Page 120 of The Triangle

“How long has this been on your mind?”

“What? Killing you?” he says, still holding the pistol on me. “A while, I suppose. I mean, after Mom and Dad died because of you—”

“Lars, man—”

“They fokken did!” He loses his cool quite a bit. “They did, man. Don’t try to act like they didn’t. You’re the one who stole the diamond from Dad. You did that.”

“Yeah. I did.”

“Why? Was it just a joke for you? A fokken lark? Just to show you could?”

“Why we talking about this now, man?”

“When else, bru? You’ve never been there to talk before. You were always too busy jetting about the world with your dear, dear Danny and Christine.”

“Jesus, man. Please don’t tell me that’s what this is about. Don’t tell me you’ve been… what? Jealous? Fokenwil, man.”

I’m reminded of a thought I had when I was fighting my way free of the cock-up with Wallace. Some people harbor their negative feelings far too close to their hearts. And that is simply terrible business.

“All right, man. I won’t tell you that. Because that’s not what this is about. I mean, I hated you for all that, but I wouldn’t try to kill you over some kak feelings, bru.”

I want to tell him that it makes me proud to hear him say that, but this ain’t the time.

“No, bru. What I want is simple.”

“What’s that then?”

“Everything. All of it. All that you have, that’s what I want. Because, big bru, as Dad once told me—before you got him and Mom killed—this world… all of it… is mine.”

Fokken Zander van den Berg. Father of the fokken year.

“Christine? Come on out, luv.”

I look over my shoulder and there comes Christine. From behind a bush. A goddamn shrubbery. She’s lucky I didn’t blow her silly head off with my berserker display a moment ago.

“Where’s Danny?” she asks as she emerges.

I glance briefly in the direction from which I came. I know Danny is out there. I just don’t know where.

“Went back,” I say.

“What?” she asks.

“He said he didn’t want any part of it. Said there was no point in pursuing. Figured there was no good way for us to resolve this and didn’t want to do something he’d regret.”

“Like what?” she asks. I think she just needs to hear it. That’s fine. It’s true.

“Like hurt you. He loves you. He didn’t want to make an impossible choice. He loves you, Christine. He always has. He always will. So…”

There’s a moment in which I watch Lars watch Christine. Then I turn back to look at Christine, who still stares at me.

“I remember,” she says.

“You do?” I ask. “What do you remember?”

“Everything,” she says.

“Oh, good. Well, your timing is just bang on, luv.”