the holster and the standard three boxes of ammunition and went back to the counter.
'Sign here,' he said, pointing to the order sheet. 'Can I see some ID?'
The man who had already put his ID card on the counter took the pen Oro passed him and signed as instructed. Oro peered at Harry Hole's ID card and the scribbles. He wondered if Southampton could stop Louis Saha.
'And remember to shoot at the bad boys,' Oro said, but received no response.
Hobbling back to the pools coupon, he reflected that the policeman's sulkiness was perhaps not so surprising. The ID card said he was in Crime Squad. Wasn't that where the dead officer had been working?
Harry parked the car by the Henie-Onstad Art Centre in Hovikodden and walked from the beautiful low brick building down the slight slope to the fjord.
On the ice stretching to Snaroya he could see a lone black figure.
He tested a sheet of ice adjacent to the shore with one foot. It broke with a loud crack. Harry shouted David Eckhoff 's name, but the figure on the ice did not stir.
Then he swore, and, realising that the commander could not weigh much less than his own ninety-five kilos, balanced on the stranded ice sheets and gingerly placed his feet on the treacherous snow-camouflaged ice field. It took his weight. He made his way across the ice with short, quick steps. It was further than it had seemed from land, and when at last Harry was so near that he could say with certainty that the figure wearing the wolf pelt, sitting on a folding chair and bent over a hole in the ice with a jig in his mittens, was indeed the Salvation Army commander, he could see why he hadn't heard him.
'Are you sure this ice is safe, Eckhoff?'
David Eckhoff turned and looked down at Harry's boots first.
'Ice on Oslo fjord in December is never safe,' he said with frozen breath issuing from his mouth. 'That's why you fish alone. But I always use these.' He motioned towards the skis he was wearing. 'They spread the weight.'
Harry nodded slowly. He seemed to hear the ice cracking beneath his feet. 'They told me at headquarters I would find you here.'
'Only place you can hear yourself think.' Eckhoff grabbed the jig.
He had put a box of bait and a knife on some newspaper beside the opening in the ice. The front page announced mild weather from Christmas Day onwards. Nothing about Halvorsen's death. It must have gone to print too early.
'A lot to think about?' Harry asked.
'Hm. My wife and I have to host the Prime Minister during the concert this evening. And then there's Gilstrup's contract that has to be signed this week. Yes, there are a few things.'
'I wanted to ask just one question,' Harry said, concentrating on spreading his weight equally between both feet.
'Uh-huh?'
'I asked Skarre, one of my men, to check if there were any sums of money passing between your account and Robert Karlsen's. There weren't. But he found another Karlsen who transferred regular sums of money. Josef Karlsen.'
David Eckhoff stared into the circle of dark water without batting an eyelid.
'My question,' Harry said, focusing on Eckhoff, 'is why you've received eight thousand kroner from Robert and Jon's father every quarter for the last twelve years.'
Eckhoff jerked as though he had a big fish on the hook.
'Well?' Harry said.
'Is this of any importance?'
'I think so, Eckhoff.'
'In that case it will have to remain between the two of us.'
'I can't promise that.'
'Then I can't tell you.'
'Then I'll have to take you to the station and ask you to make a statement there.'
The commander looked up with one eye closed and scrutinised Harry to gauge the strength of his potential adversary. 'And you think Gunnar Hagen will approve of that? Dragging me down there?'
'Let's find out.'
Eckhoff was about to say something, but paused as though scenting Harry's determination. Harry was reflecting that a man does not become the leader of a flock through brute strength but through his ability to read situations correctly.
'Fine,' said the commander. 'But it's a long story.'
'I have time,' Harry lied, feeling the cold from the ice through his soles.
'Josef Karlsen, father of Jon and Robert, was my best friend.' Eckhoff fixed his gaze on a point on Snaroya. 'We studied together, we worked together and were both ambitious and promising, as they say. But most important of all we shared a vision of a strong Salvation Army that would do God's work on earth. That would prevail. Do you understand?'
Harry nodded.
'We also came up through the ranks together,' Eckhoff continued. 'And, yes, after a while Josef and I were seen as rivals for the job I have now. I didn't think the position was that important, it was the vision that was driving us. But when I was chosen something happened to Josef. He seemed to crumble. And who knows, we don't know ourselves inside out, I might have reacted in the same way. Anyway, Josef was given the trusted post of chief administrator and even though our families kept in touch as before there was not the same…' Eckhoff groped for words: '… confidentiality. Something was oppressing Josef, something unpleasant. It was the autumn of 1991 when I and our chief accountant, Frank Nilsen, Rikard and Thea's father, discovered what. Josef had been misappropriating funds.'
'What happened?'
'We have, so to speak, little experience of that sort of thing at the Salvation Army, so until we knew what to do Nilsen and I kept it to ourselves. Of course I was disappointed by Josef 's behaviour, but at the same time I could see a cause-and-effect scenario of which I was a part. I could have handled the situation when I was chosen and he was rejected with greater… sensitivity. However, the Army was going through a period of poor recruitment at that time and did not enjoy anywhere near the widespread goodwill it enjoys today. We simply could not afford to have a scandal. I had been left a summer house by my parents in Sorlandet which we seldom used, and we intended to take our holidays in Ostgard. So I sold it in a hurry and received enough to cover the shortfall before it was discovered.'
'You?' Harry said. 'You patched over Josef Karlsen's embezzlement with your own capital?'
Eckhoff shrugged. 'There was no other solution.'
'It's not exactly commonplace in business for the boss to-'
'No, but this is no commonplace business, Hole. We do God's work. Then it's personal whatever happens.'
Harry nodded slowly. He thought about the carved little finger on Hagen's desk. 'So Josef packed it in and travelled abroad with his wife. And no one was any the wiser?'
'I offered him a job, less high-powered,' Eckhoff said. 'But of course he couldn't accept it. That would have raised all sorts of questions. They live in Thailand, I gather. Not far from Bangkok.'
'So the story about the Chinese peasant and the snake bite was made up?'
Eckhoff smiled and shook his head. 'No. Josef was a real doubter. And that story made a deep impression on him. Josef doubted as indeed we all do at times.'
'You too, Commander?'
'Me too. Doubt is faith's shadow. If you are unable to doubt you can't be a believer. It's the same as with courage, Inspector. If you are unable to feel fear, you cannot be courageous.'
'And the money?'
'Josef insists on paying me back. Not because he wants redress. What happened happened, and he will never earn enough money to pay me back living where he is. But I think he feels the penance does him good. And why should I deny him that?'
