‘Listen to what I have to say first, and then you can say “no” afterwards.’
36
Monday. The Photograph.
At 5.45 on Monday morning the sun was shining down from Ekeberg Ridge. The Securitas guard on duty in reception at Police HQ yawned loudly and raised his eyes from his Aftenposten as the first arrival signed in with his ID card.
‘Rain on the way according to the paper,’ he said, happy to see another human being.
The tall, somber-looking man cast a brief glance at him, but he didn’t respond.
During the next two minutes three other men followed him in, all equally uncommunicative and sombre.
At 6.00 the four men were sitting in the Divisional Commander’s office on the sixth floor.
‘Well,’ the Divisional Commander said, ‘one of our police inspectors has taken a possible killer from the custody block and nobody knows where they are.’
One of the things that made the Divisional Commander relatively well suited to his position was his ability to sum up a problem. Another was his ability to formulate what had to be done concisely:
‘So I propose we find them quick as fuck. What’s happened so far?’
The head of Kripos stole a furtive glance at Moller and Waaler before clearing his throat and answering:
‘We’ve put a small but experienced group of detectives on the case. Handpicked by Inspector Waaler, who is leading the search. Three from POT. Two from Crime Squad. They began last night only an hour after the officers in the custody block reported that Sivertsen had not been returned.’
‘Snappy work. But why haven’t the uniformed police been informed? And the patrol cars?’
‘We wanted to await developments and make a decision at this meeting, Lars. Hear what you thought.’
‘What I thought?’
The head of Kripos ran his finger along his top lip.
‘Inspector Waaler has promised that he’ll catch Hole and Sivertsen before the day is out. We’ve managed to confine the spread of information so far. We four and Groth in the custody block are the only ones who know that Sivertsen is out. In addition, we’ve phoned Ullersmo and cancelled Sivertsen’s cell and transport. We told them that we’d received information which gave us reason to believe that Sivertsen might not be safe there and therefore he would be transferred to a, for the moment, secret destination. To cut a long story short, we’re in a position to keep the lid on this until Waaler and his group have resolved the situation for us. Naturally, it is your decision, though, Lars.’
The Divisional Commander placed the tips of his fingers together and nodded thoughtfully. Then he got up and went to the window, where he remained with his back to them.
‘Last week I took a taxi. The driver had a paper lying open on the seat next to me. I asked him what he thought about the Courier Killer. It’s always interesting to hear what people at grass-roots level think. He said it was the same problem with the Courier Killer as with the World Trade Center: questions were being asked in the wrong order. Everyone was asking “who” and “how”. But to solve a riddle you first have to ask another question. And do you know what that question is? Torleif?’
The head of Kripos didn’t answer.
‘It’s “why”, Torlief. This taxi driver was no dummy. Has anyone here asked themselves that question, gentlemen?’
The Divisional Commander rocked on his heels and waited.
‘With all respect to the taxi driver,’ the head of Kripos said finally, ‘I’m not so sure there is a “why” in this case. At least, not a rational “why”. All of us here know that Hole is psychologically unstable and an alcoholic. That’s why he’s being dismissed.’
‘Even crazy people have motives, Torleif.’
There was the sound of someone discreetly clearing their throat.
‘Yes, Waaler.’
‘Batouti.’
‘Batouti?’
‘The Egyptian pilot who deliberately crashed a full passenger plane to avenge himself on the airline who had demoted him.’
‘What are you getting at, Waaler?’
‘I ran after Harry and talked to him in the car park after we’d arrested Sivertsen on Saturday evening. It was obvious that he was bitter, both for being dismissed and because he thought we’d cheated him out of the credit he was due for arresting the Courier Killer.’
‘Batouti…’
The Divisional Commander shaded his eyes from the first rays of sun to hit his window.
‘You haven’t said anything yet, Bjarne. What do you think?’
Bjarne Moller stared up at the silhouette in front of the window. He had such pains in his stomach that he not only felt that he was going to explode, he hoped he would. From the moment he was woken up in the night and informed about the kidnapping he had waited for someone to give him a good shake and tell him he was having a nightmare.
‘I don’t know,’ he sighed. ‘Quite frankly, I don’t understand what’s going on.’
The Divisional Commander nodded slowly.
‘If it leaks out that we’ve kept this under wraps we’ll be crucified,’ he said.
‘A concise summary, Lars,’ the head of Kripos said. ‘But if it leaks out that we’ve let a serial killer go, we’ll also be crucified. Even if we find him again. There’s still one way of resolving this problem on the quiet. Waaler has, I’m led to understand, a plan.’
‘And what is it, Waaler?’
Tom Waaler put his left hand round his clenched fist.
‘Let’s put it this way,’ he said. ‘It’s absolutely clear to me that we cannot afford to fail, so I may have to use some unconventional methods. Bearing possible repercussions in mind, I’m going to suggest that you know nothing about the plan.’
The Divisional Commander swivelled round with a mildly astonished expression on his face.
‘That’s very generous of you, Waaler, but I’m afraid we cannot agree to -’
‘I insist.’
The Divisional Commander frowned.
‘You insist? Are you aware of the risks, Waaler?’
Waaler opened the palms of his hands and examined them.
‘Yes, but it’s my responsibility. I ran the investigation and worked closely with Hole. As the person in charge I ought to have seen the signs before and done something. At any rate, after the conversation in the car park.’
The Divisional Commander gave Waaler a searching look. He turned back to the window and stayed there as a rectangle of light crept across the floor. Then he raised his shoulders and shook himself as if he were freezing cold.
‘You’ve got until midnight,’ he said to the window pane. ‘Then the news of the disappearance will be announced to the press. And this meeting never took place.’
On the way out Moller noticed the head of Kripos squeeze Waaler’s hand and flash him a warm smile of gratitude. The way you thank a colleague for loyalty, Moller mused. The way you tacitly appoint a Crown Prince.
Police Officer Bjorn Holm from Forensics felt a complete fool standing there with a microphone in his hand looking at the Japanese faces staring expectantly back at him. His palms were sweaty, and not just from the heat. Quite the contrary, the temperature in the air-conditioned luxury bus standing outside Hotel Bristol was several degrees lower than the temperature in the morning sun outside. It was from having to speak into a microphone. In English.
He had been introduced by the guide as a Norwegian police officer and an old man with a smile on his face
