We Shall Inherit the Wind Read Free Page B

out. About as far as you can go before you hit the sea.’
    ‘And what has your husband got to do with Brennøy?’
    ‘At the end of the 80s he bought a large plot there. Nothing to write home about. A few wind-blown cliffs and rocks to the north of the island. But he didn’t pay much for it. An investment for the future, he said at the time.’
    ‘That was what most people said at the time.’
    ‘Yes, I know. The worst yuppie period. But Mons was looking further ahead.’
    ‘By which you mean …?’
    ‘Renewable energy. He could visualise the rocks being … the perfect place for a wind farm. The technology was being developed. In Denmark and several other countries the first wind farms were already up and running and there were several more on the drawing board. Here, there were plans for wind turbines in Northern Trøndelag and in Nordland. Mons was convinced that Vestland would follow suit, above all with a view to making money after the seabed had no more oil to offer.’
    ‘A forest of wind turbines along the whole coast? Passengers on the Hurtigruten cruise ships have got something to look forward to.’
    Her eyes flashed. ‘Exactly! That’s like listening to his daughter, Else. Green in every respect.’
    I arched my eyebrows. ‘Is that what you were arguing about?’
    ‘You could put it like that, yes. Else was the apple of his eye, of course. She had just turned four when she lost her mother and there had been a few pretty awful experiences before that, in the bargain.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘Yes. Anyway … Mons had started to listen. Something of a sea-change, I can tell you. Generally he used to, well …’
    ‘Even die-hard socialists can go green in their old age.’
    ‘Must be with mould then. Anyway, Mons was never a socialist, I can promise you that.’
    ‘No, it doesn’t sound like it, but …’
    ‘But, if I might be allowed to finish what I was saying …’ She adopted a sarcastic expression.
    I nodded, and opened a palm.
    ‘It was two against two. Mons and Else on one side. Kristoffer and me on the other.’ She answered my question before I could ask. ‘Kristoffer’s his son. He’s the one who will take over when Mons retires.’
    ‘I see. But who is the largest shareholder in the company?’
    ‘That’s Mons. Still.’
    ‘So he could do what he liked, then?’
    She sent me a desperate look. ‘Why do you think we disagreed?’
    ‘Fine, but … Was that all? And this – what shall I call it? – ecological disagreement led to Mons slamming the door and leaving? And since then no one has seen him?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘No other … disagreements?’
    ‘Like what?’
    ‘Well … most marriages are like waters littered with submerged rocks. You never know when you’ll hit one.’
    ‘We didn’t have any other disagreements.’  
    ‘If you say so, I’ll have to believe you.’
    ‘Yes, you will, actually.’
    ‘I assume you’ve tried to ring him? Does he carry a mobile phone on him?’
    She glanced at Brekkhus. ‘Yes, but there’s no answer. He must have switched it off. Or else …’
    I paused for a moment to follow her eyes. ‘Perhaps you also made a couple of calls regarding this matter, did you, Brekkhus?’
    He cleared his throat and looked ill at ease. Stiffly, he said: ‘No activity on his phone has been observed since Saturday afternoon.’
    ‘Nothing since he disappeared, in other words?’
    ‘That sounds serious,’ Karin said.
    Brekkhus shrugged. ‘It might be. But – as Karin said – he might have switched it off.’
    ‘Or he might have dropped it in the sea as he left,’ she added. ‘He could have thrown it into the sea for all I know. He could get into quite a temper.’
    ‘Really? Could he be violent?’
    ‘No, no, not so that he would hit anyone. Not at all. But he could take his temper out on … physical things. Once when we were quarrelling he slung his mobile on the floor and stamped on it so hard it broke.’
    ‘Expensive habits. But he