‘Ekeberg restaurant.’
‘Ooh. Exclusive. Any particular reason you chose that one?’
‘Well, it came to mind when a pal of mine was recounting an old story.’
‘Tell me.’
‘There’s nothing to tell, it’s just the usual adolescence thi-’
‘Adolescence! Come on!’
Harry chuckled. And as they approached the city centre and it started snowing at the top of Ekeberg Ridge, Harry told her about Killer Queen, the darling of Ekeberg restaurant, once the most attractive functionalist building in Oslo. Which today – post renovation – it is again.
‘But in the eighties it was so run-down that people had actually given up on the place. It had become a boozy dance restaurant where you went to tables and asked for the pleasure, trying not to knock over the glasses. And then shuffled round the floor propping each other up.’
‘I see.’
‘Oystein, Tresko and I used to go to the top of the German bunkers on Nordstrand beach, drink beer and wait for puberty to pass. When we were seventeen we ventured over to the restaurant, lied about our ages and went in. You didn’t have to lie much – the place needed all the cash it could get. The dance band stank, but at least they played “Nights in White Satin”. And they had a star attraction who guested almost every night. We called her Killer Queen. A female man-o’-war, she was.’
‘A man-o’-war?’ Kaja laughed. ‘Set your cap at?’
‘Yup,’ Harry said. ‘Bore down on you like a galleon in full rig, mean, sexy and dead scary. Equipped like a fairground. Curves on her like a roller coaster.’
Kaja laughed even louder. ‘The local fun-fair, no less?’
‘In a way,’ Harry said. ‘But she went to Ekeberg restaurant pri marily to be seen and adored, I think. And for the free drinks from faded dance-floor kings, of course. No one ever saw Killer Queen go home with any of them. Perhaps that was what fascinated us. A woman who’d had to go down a league or two for admirers, but in a way still had style.’
‘And then what?’
‘Oystein and Tresko said they would each buy me a whiskey if I dared ask her to dance.’
They crossed the tramlines and drove up the steep hill to the restaurant.
‘And?’ Kaja said.
‘I dared.’
‘And then?’
‘We danced. Until she said she was sick of having her feet trodden on and it would be better if we went for a walk. She left first. It was August, hot, and, as you can see, there’s only forest round here. Thick foliage and loads of paths to hidden places. I was drunk, but still so excited that I knew she would be able to hear the tremor in my voice if I said anything. So I kept my trap shut. And that was fine, she did all the talking. And the rest, too. Afterwards she asked me if I wanted to go home with her.’
Kaja sniggered. ‘Oooh. And what happened there?’
‘We can talk about that during the meal. We’re here.’
They came to a halt in the car park, got out and walked up the steps to the restaurant. The head waiter welcomed them at the entrance to the dining area and asked for the name. Harry answered that they hadn’t reserved a table.
The waiter could barely restrain himself from rolling his eyes.
‘Full for the next two months,’ Harry snorted as they left, after buying cigarettes at the bar. ‘I think I liked the place better when water was leaking into the restaurant and rats squealed at you from behind the toilets. At least we could get in.’
‘Let’s have a smoke,’ Kaja suggested.
They walked over to the low brick wall from where the forest sloped downwards into Oslo. The clouds in the west were tinged with orange and red, and the queues of traffic on the motorway glittered like phosphorescence against the blackness of the town. It seemed to be lying there in wait, keeping watch, Harry thought. A camouflaged beast of prey. He tapped out two cigarettes, lit them and passed one to Kaja.
‘The rest of the story,’ Kaja said, inhaling.
‘Where were we?’
‘Killer Queen took you home.’
‘No, she asked if I wanted to go. And I politely declined.’
‘Declined? You’re lying. Why?’
‘Oystein and Tresko asked me that when I got back. I told them I couldn’t just leave when I had two pals and free whiskey waiting for me.’
Kaja laughed and blew smoke over the view.
‘But of course that was a lie,’ Harry said. ‘Loyalty had nothing to do with it. Friendship means nothing to a man if he has a tempting enough offer. Nothing. The truth is that I didn’t dare. Killer Queen was simply in the scariest league of all for me.’
They sat silent for a while. Listening to the hum of the town and watching the smoke curl upwards.
‘You’re thinking,’ Kaja said.
‘Mm. I’m thinking about Bellman. How well informed he is. He not only knew I was coming to Norway, he even knew which flight I was on.’
‘Perhaps he has contacts at Police HQ.’
‘Mm. And at Lake Lyseren today Skai said that Bellman had rung him about the rope the same evening that we’d been at the ropery.’
‘Really?’
‘But Beate says she didn’t tell Bellman about the rope until the morning after we’d been there.’ Harry followed the glow of tobacco on its flight over the slope. ‘And Bjorn has been promoted to coordinator for forensics and strategic planning.’
Kaja stared at him in surprise. ‘That’s not possible, Harry.’
He didn’t answer.
‘Bjorn Holm! Would he have kept Bellman informed about what we were doing? You two have worked together for so long, you’re… friends!’
Harry shrugged. ‘As I said, I think…’ He dropped his cigarette onto the ground and crushed it with a swivel of his heel. ‘… friendship means nothing to a man if he has a tempting enough offer. Do you dare join me for today’s special at Schroder’s?’
I dream all the time now. It was summer and I loved her. I was so young and thought that if you wanted something enough it was yours to have.
Adele, you had her smile, her hair and her faithless heart. And now Aftenposten says they have found you. I hope you were as foul on the outside as you were on the inside.
It also says they’ve put Inspector Harry Hole on the case. He was the one who caught the Snowman. Perhaps there’s hope, perhaps the police can save lives after all?
I’ve printed out a photo of Adele from the Verdens Gang website and pinned it on the wall, next to the torn page from the Havass cabin guest book. Including mine, there are only three more names now.
37
Profile
The Special AtSchroder’s was bubble and squeak served with fried eggs and raw onions.
‘Nice,’ said Kaja.
‘The cook must be sober today,’ Harry agreed. Then he pointed. ‘Look.’
Kaja turned and looked up at the TV Harry was indicating.
