Never Fuck Up: A Novel by Jens Lapidus

Author:Jens Lapidus [Lapidus, Jens]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Thriller
ISBN: 9780307908506
Publisher: Pantheon
Published: 2008-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Thomas started at Solvalla. V75. Signs everywhere advertising THE EXTRA SPICE OF THE DAY: THE JUBILEE TROPHY. It was one of the biggest trotting-race events of the year. The informational pamphlets claimed that anyone with a penchant for harness racing should be there. So of course Thomas should be there. Hopefully, Ballénius felt the same way.

The weather was fantastic. People were crowding outside—the worry that the rain would return was as forgotten as the greenhouse effect at a car show. Rowdy atmosphere, excitement in the air. Ads for Agria pet insurance wallpapered the area. Hot dogs, beer, and tote tickets in everyone’s hands. The speakers blazoned out the day’s races. Soon it would begin.

Thomas didn’t think Ballénius would be hanging out in the outdoor grandstands. So, he planned on starting inside the building. It was big, with glass façades, probably 330 feet long. Four stories, but each story was like its own grandstand.

The different floors had different class. At the bottom of the huge building: Ströget, the sports bar. Complete liquor license. Big-screen TVs showing the track better than if you were outside by the standing tables. Cold beer, sausages, burgers made with 100 percent beef. The clientele: mostly younger. Swedish guys in jeans and T-shirts with their wallets slapped down on the tables. A couple of their chicks, girls with their hair pulled into little balls on the top of their heads. A couple of families. Outside: bouncers.

Thomas trusted his gut instinct. If Ballénius was here, he wouldn’t hang on this floor.

The speakers were blaring out the special event of the day: “As you all know, Björn and Olle Goop’s Conny Nobell was last year’s Elite Race champion. But the Goop family never got to make their victory lap in front of our audience. So here at Solvalla we now want to bring your attention to the Elite Race champions. Welcome onto the track, Björn and Olle Goop!”

The next level was called the Bistro—simple tray service with tables on different tiers. View over the track. Still, it cost fifty kronor just to get in. Thomas flashed his badge to the host at the entrance, who asked if something was wrong. Thomas shook his head. Showed the copy of Ballénius’s passport photo. “No, but we’re looking for this man, John Ballénius, do you know him?” The host’s turn to shake his head. The guy was young, couldn’t have been working at Solvalla for long. Recommended that Thomas ask the gaming manager in the restaurant today, Jens Rasten. Thomas walked up to the counter, asked a waitress about Rasten. She disappeared into the kitchen. A man with light brown hair and a beer gut came out.

Faint Danish accent: “Hi, you’re from the police, I hear. I’m Jens Rasten, responsible for the Bistro. How may we help you?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you on such a busy day. I’m looking for a person named John Ballénius. Do you know him?”

Rasten’s eyes turned first to the photocopy of the picture, then angled up to the side.

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