'Sorry, Ellen. You're forever right and I'll do my best to improve. You were saying?'
'There's a lot of partner-swapping in alkie circles, so we can't rule out a jealousy killing. Incidentally, do you know who we had in for questioning? Your old friend Sverre Olsen. The cook had seen him at Herbert's Pizza around the time of the murder.'
'And?'
Alibi. He'd been sitting there all day, had only been out for ten minutes to buy something. The shop assistant confirmed.’
‘He could have -'
'Yes, you would have liked it to be him, but Harry…’
‘Dale might have had something other than money’
‘Harry…'
'He might have had information. About someone.’
‘You like conspiracy theories up there on the sixth floor, don't you? But can't we deal with this on Monday, Harry?'
'Since when have you been so particular about working hours?'
'I'm in bed.'
At half past ten?'
'I'm not on my own.'
Harry stopped pedalling. It hadn't occurred to him until now that people around him might be listening to the conversation. He swivelled round. Luckily there were only a handful of people training at this late hour.
'Is that the artist guy from Torst?' he whispered. 'Mm.'
And how long have you two been bed pals?' A while.'
'Why didn't you tell me?'
'You didn't ask.'
'Is he lying next to you now?'
'Mm.'
'Is he good?’
‘Mm.'
'Has he told you he loves you yet?'
'Mm.'
Pause.
'Do you think about Freddie Mercury when you-'
'Goodnight, Harry.'
44
Harry's Office. 6 March 2000.
The clock in reception showed 8.30 as Harry arrived at work. It wasn't much of a reception area, more an entrance which functioned as a funnel. The funnel boss was Linda, who looked up from her computer and greeted him with a cheery 'Good morning'. Linda had been in POT longer than anyone and, strictly speaking, she was the only person in security Harry needed to have any contact with in order to carry out his daily work. Apart from being the 'funnel boss', the tiny fast-talking woman of fifty functioned as a kind of communal secretary, receptionist and general factotum. It had occurred to Harry a couple of times that if he were a spy for a foreign power and had to tap someone in POT for information, he would choose Linda. Furthermore, she was the only person in POT, apart from Meirik, who knew what Harry was doing there. He had no idea what the others thought. During his extremely rare visits to the canteen to buy a yoghurt or cigarettes (which they didn't sell, it turned out) he had caught the looks from the tables. He hadn't tried to interpret them, however; he had merely scuttled back to his office.
'Someone phoned for you,' Linda said. 'Spoke English. I'll just have a look…'
She took a yellow Post-it off her computer monitor.
'Hochner.'
'Hochner?' Harry exclaimed.
Linda looked at the slip of paper, uncertain. 'Yes, that was what she said.'
'She? He, don't you mean?'
'No, it was a woman. She said she would call back…' Linda turned and looked at the clock behind her,'… now. She seemed pretty keen to get hold of you. While I've got you here, Harry-have you been round to introduce yourself yet?'
'Haven't had time. Next week, Linda.'
'You've been here for a whole month. Yesterday Steffensen asked me who the tall blond guy was he'd met in the toilet.’
‘Really? And what did you tell him?'
'I said it was on a need-to-know basis.' She laughed. And you have to come to the department do on Saturday.'
'So I understand,' he mumbled, picking up two pieces of paper from his pigeon-hole. One was a reminder about the party, the other an internal note about the new arrangement for reps. Both sailed into the bin as soon as he had closed his office door.
Then he sat down, pressed rec and pause on the answerphone and waited. After about thirty seconds the telephone rang. Harry picked up, expecting Hochner.
'Harry Hole speaking.'
'Herry? Spicking?' It was Ellen.
'Sorry. I thought it was someone else.'
'He's an animal,' she said before he could say anything else. 'Focking onbelivebel, he is.'
'If you're talking about what I think you're talking about, I would prefer you to stop right there, Ellen.'
'Wimp. Who were you expecting a call from, by the way?'
'A woman.'
At last!'
'Forget it. It's probably a relative or the wife of a guy I've interviewed.' She sighed. 'When are you going to meet someone, Harry?'
'You're in love now, are you?’
‘Well guessed! Aren't you?’
‘Me?'
Ellen's joyous screech pierced his eardrum.
'You didn't deny it! I've caught you, Harry Hole! Who is it, who, who?'
'Stop it, Ellen.'
'Tell me I'm right!'
I haven't met anyone, Ellen.'
'Don't lie to Mummy.'
Harry laughed. 'Tell me more about Hallgrim Dale. How far has the investigation got now?'
'Don't know. Talk to Kripos.'
I will, but what does your intuition tell you about the murder?'
'That he's a pro. It isn't a passion killing. And despite the fact that I said the murder seemed neat and tidy, I don't believe that it was carefully planned in advance.'
'No?'
'The killing was efficient and there were no clues left behind, but the scene of the crime was a poor choice. He could easily have been seen from the street or in the back alley.'
'The other line is bleeping. I'll call you back.'
Harry pressed the pause button on the answering machine and checked that the tape was now running before he switched to the other line.
