Authors: Anne Holt
The Blind Goddess (41 page)
He went over to the desk and lifted the statuette. It was heavy. The bronze was russet and gleaming and had not yet begun to oxidise. A card fell to the floor. He put the figure carefully back
on the desk, and with his injured leg extended stiffly to one side he bent down and picked it up.
He tore it open.
It was from Karen.
Dearest Håkon, I thank you for everything with all my heart. You are my hero. I think I love you. Don’t give up on me. Don’t phone, I’ll ring you
soon. Yours (believe it or not as you will), Karen. PS: Congratulations!!! K.
He read it again and again. His hands were shaking as he caressed the radiant copper-bronze statuette in front of him. It was cool and smooth and pleasing to the touch. Then in utter amazement
he had to close his eyes tight and refocus—he was sure he’d seen it move.
The Goddess of Justice had peeped out from behind her thick blindfold. She had gazed straight at him with one eye, and he could swear that for a split second she had winked. And smiled. A wry,
enigmatic smile.