Johnas didn't like it. A nagging suspicion was creeping up his spine like a cold snake. He couldn't tell what this kid wanted or why he was acting so strangely. He couldn't possibly have that much money, and if he did, he wouldn't spend it on a carpet.
"Please wrap it for me," Halvor said, crossing his arms. He leaned against a mahogany drop-leaf table that creaked alarmingly under his weight.
"Wrap it?" Johnas curled his lips into a smile. "I roll them up and put plastic and tape around the outside."
"OK, that's fine."
Halvor waited.
"It takes a little work to get it down from the wall. I suggest that I bring it out to you this evening. Then I can help you put it in place."
"No, no," Halvor said. "I want to take it now."
Johnas hesitated. "You want to take it now. And – forgive my rudeness – how will you pay for it?"
"Cash, if that's all right."
He patted his back pocket. He was wearing faded jeans with frayed cuffs. Johnas stood in front of him, still dubious.
"Is there something wrong?" Halvor said.
"I don't know. Perhaps."
"And what would that be?"
"I know who you are," Johnas said, deciding to take a firm stance. It was a relief to stop pretending.
"Do we know each other?"
Johnas nodded, standing there rocking back and forth with his hands on his hips.
"Yes, we do, Halvor. Of course we know each other. I think you'd better go now."
"Why? Is something wrong?"
"Let's cut the crap, right now!" Johnas said, tight-lipped.
"I agree!" snarled Halvor. "Take down that carpet, and do it fast!"
"On reflection, I don't think I want to sell it. I'm moving and I want to keep it for myself. Besides, it's much too expensive for you. Be honest now, we both know that you can't afford it."
"So you want to keep it for yourself?" Halvor turned on his heel. "Well, I can understand that. I'll take a different one."
He looked at the wall again and pointed at once to a carpet in pinks and greens. "I'll take that one instead," he said simply. "Please get it down for me, and give me a receipt."
"It costs 44,000."
"That's fine."
"Is that so?"
He was still waiting with his arms crossed and his pupils as hard as buckshot. "Would it be too presumptuous of me to ask to see that you actually do have the money?"
Halvor shook his head. "Of course not. I realise that it's impossible to know just from looking at people whether they have money these days."
He stuck his hand in his hip pocket and took out an old wallet made of nylon with Velcro, flat as a pancake. He poked his fingers inside and jingled some coins. Took out a few and put them on the drop-leaf table.
Johnas stared at him sceptically as the five-, ten-, and one-krone coins formed a little heap. "All right, that's enough," he said harshly. "You've already taken up enough of my time. Now get out of here!"
Halvor stopped and glanced up at him, looking almost offended.
"I'm not done yet. I have more." He dug further into his wallet.
"No, you don't! You live in an old shack with your grandmother, and you deliver ice cream! It costs 44,000," he said sharply. "You'd better cough up the money right now..."
"So you know where I live?" Halvor looked at him. Things were starting to get dangerous, but he wasn't scared; for some reason he wasn't scared at all.
"I do have this," he said suddenly, pulling something out of the slot for banknotes in his wallet. Johnas stared at him suspiciously, casting a dubious eye at what he was holding between two fingers.
"It's a disk," Halvor said.
"I don't want a disk; I want 40,000 kroner," Johnas snapped, feeling fear begin to hack at his chest.
"Annie's diary," Halvor said, waving the disk. "She started keeping a diary a while ago. In November, as a matter of fact. We've been looking for it, several of us. You know how girls are: always having to confide things."
Johnas was breathing hard. His gaze was aimed at Halvor like a stapling machine.
"I've read it," Halvor said. "It's about you."
"Give it to me!"
"Not until hell freezes over!"
Johnas gave a start. Halvor's voice had changed tone and was suddenly deeper. It was like listening to an evil spirit speaking through the mouth of a child.
"I've made copies of it," he said. "So I can buy as many carpets as I want. Every time I feel like having a new carpet, I'll just make another copy.