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The fire burning in the fireplace made a smooth creaking sound.
Ivarr Amundsen sat on a white sofa. He wore a mix of black and grey pinstripe long sleeve t shirt. He sat there while reading ‘The Girl Who Played With Fire’.
That house was huge and beautiful. The wooden walls are intentionally roughly carved. There are a lot of smooth white-greyish furniture, carpets that covering the whole floor tile, nordic curtains that left opened, allowing to see at the snowy scenery outisde and a lamp’s that shine with a low yellow light.
Ivarr was alone.
Under the low light, his silvery blode hair looked like grey colored. And his blue deep eyes looked purple.
It’s been a month after Nikolai’s death. And he didn’t rest in peace. His little brother murdered in a brutal way. Cruel and inhuman.
His liver was taken.
But nevertheless, there are no tears dripped from Ivarr eyes.
He closed the book and stared at the ceiling. For the thousand times, he asked himself a same question.
Why?
Why can’t he cry? Why he didn’t even feel sad when he heard the death of his little brother, his only family? Is Ivarr really heartless, or is he as heartless as the murder?
Ivarr has tried everything. Remembering his little brother. He even watched Nikola’s favourite movies such as Gries, Chicago and Peer Gynt just to feel the feeling when they watched that movie together. He visited Nikolai’s favourite places too such as Nasjonalmuseet. But he didn’t know why, all of those things he did only made his heart more numb.
Ivarr closed his eyes for a while then lowering his head to contnue reading. Suddenly there are something dripped onto the book. It’s not a tear, It’s a blood.
Ivarr rubbed his nose. Closed his book and doing a medical treatment on his nose. His nose bleed a lot more than the usual.
Ivarr didn’t care about it.
After his nose stopped bleeding, he went to the restroom to wash his face, nose and hands. He is still drying his hands when he heard someone knocked at the door. He went with a face that void of any expression. If it’s not the police then it’ll be a detective who’s coming.
Ivarr slowly walk out of the restroom and went to open the front door.
The guest was a young man and a girl who looked mismatched. It’s not based on the appearance because the young man was very handsome with his long hair and has a n.o.ble aura around him. On the other hand the girl was very beautiful with her short brownish hair and her wide sparkling eyes. Their clothes are weird and mismatched. If the young man wore a white tuxedo then the girl should be wearing a wedding gown not a nordic sweater with a deer motif.
“Good after noon,” the young man said while bowed slightly and putting his hat on his chest. “ Are you the one named Ivarr Amundsen?”
Ivarr slightly nodded. “Yes I am.”
“Greeting, I’m Halstein,” the young man said while reached out his hand. “This is Solveig, my a.s.sistant.”
Ivarr shook their hands.
“We came from England,” Halstein said. “We’ll be holding ‘A Doll’s House’ theater performance written by Henrik Ibsen two months later in london, and we are in need of a Norwegian’s souvenir to give to the audience. When we went in a cafe in Bakkalandet district this troll doll are being made as a promo souvenir, and we are very interested in this doll,” Halstein took out something out of his pocket. It’s a small troll doll. It’s cute and looked like a gnome, but with a wider grin. “That cafe owner said, the one that made this doll are Amundsen Corp. Then we began to search for your address. We want to order a thousand troll doll like this one.”
“You went as far to Norway just to buy a souvenir?” Ivarr asked.
“Of courae,” Halstein said while raising his brow. “I didn’t want to use a courier. Who’s going to take the responsible if something happened with the dolls?”
After looking at the two people Ivarr told them to come in. Halstein and his a.s.sistant sat on the living room while Ivarr went to the kithcen to make a hot chocolate for them to drink.
They’re not a police or a detective. Thank G.o.d.
Ivarr already tired of that kind of people.
***
Lyre or more precisely Solveig, gazed around the living room. Her gaze stopped at a photo displayed on the living room. It was a picture of Ivarr and a young man with look similiar with him.
The young that recently met Hades.
The face of those two young man are pale white. Their hair are silvery blonde and their eyes are blue deep colored almost purple. They stood next to each other, smiled at the camera. Their smile, body language and calm expression didn’t gave off a feeling of brotherhood that full of fun and jokes. Both of them looked like they rarely talk but understand each other very well.
After a while Ivarr came to the living room. He brought two cup of hot chocolate and a few cookies that looked similiar to cupcake but larger and decorated with white cream and colorful chocochip.
“This is a grovkake[1],” that young man said while putting the tray on the table. Solveig enjoyed Ivarr voices. It’s low toned but smooth and beautiful to listen, just like a song. “It’s only produced in Alesund. I bought several of it when I travelled there.”
Ivarr sat next across of them. Even if that young man is elegant and looked a bit beautifull. His gaze was hollow, devoid of any expression as if his soul wasn’t there.
“Excuse me,” Solveig said while pointing at the picture. “Do you have a twin brother?.”
Ivarr looked at the picture for a while. “He isn’t my twin brother. He’s one year younger than me.”
“Ah, from the beginning I felt that your face was familiar,” Hades abruptly said. “You looked alike a young man that murdered and his liver was taken a few weeks ago. So that was your younger brother?”
“Yes. The media are overpublishing it.”
Solveig coughed, she felt bad for him. “My condolences.”
Ivar just nodded slightly. “So, When you’ll need those troll dolls?” he asked.
Then they discussed about the doll for an hour. Ivarr made a schedule that it will be finished in the next two weeks. Halstein looked satisfied paid the doll in advance. He also invited Ivarr to go at the show for free.
“Thank you,” Ivarr said with a flat expression. “I’ll be coming if there is a chance to london.”
Solveig and Halstein bid a farewell after chit-chatting about the weather. Most of the time only those two who talked and Ivarr only replied shortly.
“Can we come again sometimes? Before the troll finished I mean. The Grovkake are delicious,” Halstein said.
Ivarr nodded. “Of course.”
Solveig and Halstein left after bidding farewell once again.
***
“Nikolai Amundsen,” Hades mumbled in a hotel suite with two rooms and a living room. The hotel was picked by Solveig when she saw a hotel with cla.s.sic england theme. The furniture in that room looked old and elegant, unlike the furniture in other hotel that felt very Scandinavian.
Halstein sat on a blue light sofa, then read a parchment about Ivarr Amundsen’s younger brother. “A good boy who rarely talk. Born 17 November 1993. Beside helping his older brother’s souvenir business he also a choir member. His voice are beautiful,” Hades raise his brow, he thought it was unnecessary information. “He was murdered when he walking home from Balairung. He didn’t died on the crime location. He was brought to a hospital and coma, and actually still can be saved with a liver transplantation. But in the end he died, because he chose it.”
“are his brother visited him?” Solveig asked.
“No, at that time Ivarr is out of town. When he came back to Trondheimeverything is already over. His younger brother already died.”
“Master, are you planning to visit every victim’s family?” Solveig nervously asked. It was ineffective and a waste of time because the murderer still wandering in this town.
“No,” Hades said while putting the parchment back. “I only targetting Ivarr Amundsen.”
“Why him? What is master planning to do?”
Halstein smiled. Once again he only said, “You can just wait and see.”