Read Online A Conspiracy of Faith by Jussi Adler-Olsen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jussi Adler-Olsen
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that he should have gathered together so many cuttings, but perhaps it was part of some hobby of his that had since been forgotten.
“Just as well,” she muttered under her breath. But what possible interest could he have in articles about Jehovah’s Witnesses?
She sifted through them. The material was by no means as homogeneous as she had first thought. Among articles on various sects, there were also cuttings about stock prices and market analyses, DNA tracking, even fifteen-year-old ads and prospectuses for holiday cabins and weekend homes for sale in Hornsherred. It was hard to imagine what use he could have for it all now. Maybe she ought to ask him if it wasn’t about time they got this room sorted out. The space would make an excellent walk-in wardrobe, and who wouldn’t like one of those?
She slid down from the packing cases with a sense of relief. Now she had a new idea in mind.
Just to make sure, she allowed her gaze to pass over the cardboard landscape one more time, finding no reason to be worried about the slight dent her knee had made in the box in the middle. He wouldn’t notice anything.
And then she closed the door.
The idea was that she would buy a new charger. She would do it now, using some of the housekeeping money she had been putting aside unbeknown to her husband. She would cycle to the Sonofon store on Algade and buy a new one. And when she got home, she would make it look used by rubbing it in Benjamin’s sandpit so that it became scuffed and scratched, and then she would put it in the basket in the hall with Benjamin’s beanie hat and mittens, and produce it next time her husband asked.
Of course, he was going to wonder where it had come from, and she would naturally be perplexed that he should wonder so. And then she would suggest that perhaps it had been left behind by someone visiting, and that it might not be theirs at all.
She would recall the occasions other people had been in the house. It had been known to happen, though not for some considerable time now.There was the meeting of the residents’ association. Benjamin’s health visitor. In theory, certainly, someone could quite conceivably have left a phone charger behind, even if it did seem a bit odd, because who on earth would have such a thing with them in someone else’s house?
She could easily pop out and buy a new one while Benjamin was having his afternoon nap. She smiled quietly at the thought of her husband’s astonishment when he asked to see the charger and she would pick it out from among the mittens in the basket. She repeated the sentence over and over in her mind so as to give it the right weight and emphasis.
“What do you mean it’s not ours? What an odd thing to happen. Someone must have left it behind. One of the guests from the christening, perhaps?”
It was a straightforward explanation. Simple, and so unlikely as to be foolproof.
8
If Carl had ever been in doubt as to whether Rose could keep a promise, he certainly wasn’t now. Hardly had he presumed to raise his weary voice in protest against her preposterous project of deciphering the message in the bottle than her eyes grew wide and she announced that in that case he could take his sodding bottle, regardless of it being in pieces, and shove it up his fucking arse.
Before he even had time to protest further, she had slung her scruffy bag over her shoulder and stormed off. Even Assad was in a state of shock, standing for a moment as though nailed to the floor, a hunk of grapefruit jammed between his teeth.
And thus they remained in silence for quite some time.
“I wonder if she really will send her sister,” Assad finally ventured. His lips moved in slow motion, returning the grapefruit inelegantly to his hand.
“Where’s your prayer mat, Assad?” Carl growled. “Be a sport and pray it doesn’t happen.”
“A sport?”
“A mate, a good bloke, Assad.”
Carl gestured for him to step closer to the gigantic blowup that covered
“Just as well,” she muttered under her breath. But what possible interest could he have in articles about Jehovah’s Witnesses?
She sifted through them. The material was by no means as homogeneous as she had first thought. Among articles on various sects, there were also cuttings about stock prices and market analyses, DNA tracking, even fifteen-year-old ads and prospectuses for holiday cabins and weekend homes for sale in Hornsherred. It was hard to imagine what use he could have for it all now. Maybe she ought to ask him if it wasn’t about time they got this room sorted out. The space would make an excellent walk-in wardrobe, and who wouldn’t like one of those?
She slid down from the packing cases with a sense of relief. Now she had a new idea in mind.
Just to make sure, she allowed her gaze to pass over the cardboard landscape one more time, finding no reason to be worried about the slight dent her knee had made in the box in the middle. He wouldn’t notice anything.
And then she closed the door.
The idea was that she would buy a new charger. She would do it now, using some of the housekeeping money she had been putting aside unbeknown to her husband. She would cycle to the Sonofon store on Algade and buy a new one. And when she got home, she would make it look used by rubbing it in Benjamin’s sandpit so that it became scuffed and scratched, and then she would put it in the basket in the hall with Benjamin’s beanie hat and mittens, and produce it next time her husband asked.
Of course, he was going to wonder where it had come from, and she would naturally be perplexed that he should wonder so. And then she would suggest that perhaps it had been left behind by someone visiting, and that it might not be theirs at all.
She would recall the occasions other people had been in the house. It had been known to happen, though not for some considerable time now.There was the meeting of the residents’ association. Benjamin’s health visitor. In theory, certainly, someone could quite conceivably have left a phone charger behind, even if it did seem a bit odd, because who on earth would have such a thing with them in someone else’s house?
She could easily pop out and buy a new one while Benjamin was having his afternoon nap. She smiled quietly at the thought of her husband’s astonishment when he asked to see the charger and she would pick it out from among the mittens in the basket. She repeated the sentence over and over in her mind so as to give it the right weight and emphasis.
“What do you mean it’s not ours? What an odd thing to happen. Someone must have left it behind. One of the guests from the christening, perhaps?”
It was a straightforward explanation. Simple, and so unlikely as to be foolproof.
8
If Carl had ever been in doubt as to whether Rose could keep a promise, he certainly wasn’t now. Hardly had he presumed to raise his weary voice in protest against her preposterous project of deciphering the message in the bottle than her eyes grew wide and she announced that in that case he could take his sodding bottle, regardless of it being in pieces, and shove it up his fucking arse.
Before he even had time to protest further, she had slung her scruffy bag over her shoulder and stormed off. Even Assad was in a state of shock, standing for a moment as though nailed to the floor, a hunk of grapefruit jammed between his teeth.
And thus they remained in silence for quite some time.
“I wonder if she really will send her sister,” Assad finally ventured. His lips moved in slow motion, returning the grapefruit inelegantly to his hand.
“Where’s your prayer mat, Assad?” Carl growled. “Be a sport and pray it doesn’t happen.”
“A sport?”
“A mate, a good bloke, Assad.”
Carl gestured for him to step closer to the gigantic blowup that covered
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