He doesn’t deserve that.’
He looked up and saw that she was shocked.
‘My great-aunt died of scleroderma,’ she said. ‘A terrible disease.’
‘And a terrible man,’ Harry said. ‘Incidentally, I quite agree with those who say that the capacity to forgive says something about the essential quality of a person. I’m the lowest grade.’
‘I didn’t mean to criticise you.’
‘I promise to be better in my next life,’ Harry said, looking down and rubbing his neck. ‘Which, if the Hindus are right, will probably be as a bark beetle. But I’ll be a nice bark beetle.’
He looked up and saw that what Rakel called his ‘damned boyish charm’ was having an effect. ‘Listen, Kaja, I’ve come here to make you an offer.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes.’ Harry heard the solemnity in his voice. The voice of a man with no capacity to forgive, no consideration, no thoughts for anything except his own objectives. And plied the inverted persuasion technique that had worked for him far too often. ‘Which I would recommend you decline. I have, you see, a tendency to destroy the lives of those I become involved with.’
To his astonishment, he saw that her face had flushed scarlet.
‘But I don’t think it would be right to do this without you,’ he continued. ‘Not now that we’re so close.’
‘Close… to what?’ The blushes had gone.
‘Close to apprehending the guilty party. I’m on my way to the police solicitor now to request a warrant for his arrest.’
‘Oh… of course.’
‘Of course?’
‘I mean, arrest whom?’ She heaved herself back to the desk. ‘For what?’
‘Our killer, Kaja.’
‘Really?’ He watched her pupils grow, slowly, pulsating. And knew what was going on inside her. The blood rush before bringing down, felling the wild animal. The arrest. Which would be on her CV. How could she resist?
Harry nodded. ‘His name is Tony Leike.’
The colour returned to her cheeks. ‘Sounds familiar.’
‘He’s about to marry the daughter of-’
‘Oh yes, he’s engaged to the Galtung girl.’ She frowned. ‘Do you mean to say you have evidence?’
‘Circumstantial. And coincidences.’
He saw her pupils contract again.
‘I’m sure this is our man, Kaja.’
‘Convince me,’ she said, and he could hear the hunger. The desire to swallow everything raw, to have a pretext for taking the craziest decision of her life so far. And he had no intention of protecting her against herself. For he needed her. She was media-perfect: young, intelligent, a woman, ambitious. With an appealing face and record. In short, she had everything he did not have. She was a Jeanne d’Arc the Justice Ministry would not want to burn at the stake.
Harry breathed in. Then he repeated the conversation he had had with Tony Leike. In detail. Without wondering at how he was able to reproduce what had been said word for word. His colleagues had always considered this ability remarkable.
‘Havass cabin, Congo and Lake Lyseren,’ Kaja said after he had finished. ‘He’s been to all the places.’
‘Yes, and he’s been convicted for violence. And he admits his intention was to kill.’
‘Great. But-’
‘The really great bit comes now. He rang Elias Skog. Two days before he was found murdered.’
Her pupils were black suns.
‘We’ve got him,’ she said softly.
‘Does the we mean what I think it does?’
‘Yes.’
Harry sighed. ‘You realise the risks of joining me in this? Even if I’m right about Leike, there’s no guarantee that this arrest and a successful prosecution of the case are enough to tip the balance of power in Hagen’s favour. And then you’ll be in the doghouse.’
‘What about you?’ She leaned across the desk. Her tiny piranha teeth glistened. ‘Why do you think it’s worth the risk?’
‘I’m a washed-up cop with little to lose, Kaja. For me, it’s this or nothing. I can’t do Narc or Sexual Offences, and Kripos will never make me an offer. But for you personally this is probably a poor decision.’
‘My decisions usually are,’ she said, serious now.
‘Good,’ Harry said, standing up. ‘I’ll go and get the solicitor. Don’t run away.’
‘I’ll be here, Harry.’
Harry pivoted straight into the face of a man who had clearly been standing in the doorway for some time.
‘Sorry,’ the man said with a broad smile. ‘I’d just like to borrow the lady for a while.’
He nodded towards Kaja, laughter dancing in his eyes.
‘Be my guest,’ Harry said, giving the man his abbreviated form of a smile, and strode off down the corridor.
‘Aslak Krongli,’ Kaja said. ‘What brings a country boy to the big bad city?’
‘The usual, I suppose,’ said the officer from Ustaoset.
‘Excitement, neon lights and the buzz of the crowd?’
Aslak smiled. ‘Work. And a woman. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?’
‘Not right now,’ Kaja said. ‘Things are happening, so I have to hold the fort. But I’d be happy to buy you a cup in the canteen. It’s on the top floor. If you go ahead, that’ll give me time to make a phone call.’
He gave her a thumbs up and was gone.
Kaja closed her eyes and drew in a long, quivering breath.
The police solicitor’s office was on the sixth floor, so Harry didn’t have far to walk. The solicitor, a young woman who had obviously been taken on since Harry last visited the office, peered over her glasses as he stepped in.
‘Need a blue chit,’ Harry said.
‘And you would be?’
‘Harry Hole, Inspector.’
He presented his ID card even though he could see from her somewhat frenetic reaction that she had heard of him. He could just imagine what, and decided not to go there. For her part, she noted down his name on the search and arrest warrant and scrutinised his card with exaggerated squints, as though the spelling were extremely complicated.
‘Two crosses?’ she asked.
‘Fine,’ Harry said.
She put a cross against ‘arrest’ and ‘search’ and leaned back in her chair in a way that Harry bet was a copy of the you’ve-got-thirty-seconds-to-persuade-me pose she had seen more seasoned solicitors adopt.
Harry knew from experience that the first argument was the weighty one – that was when solicitors made up their minds – so he started with the call Leike made to Elias Skog two days before the murder. This despite Leike’s assertions when talking to Harry that he didn’t know Skog and hadn’t spoken to him at the cabin. Argument number two was the assault conviction which Leike admitted was attempted murder, and Harry could already see that the blue chit was in the bag. So he spiced up proceedings with the coincidences of the Congo and Lake Lyseren, without entering into too much detail.
She removed her glasses.
‘Basically, I’m sympathetic,’ she said. ‘However, I need to give the matter a little more thought.’
Harry cursed inwardly. A more experienced solicitor would have given him the warrant there and then, but she was so green she didn’t dare without consulting one of the others. There should have been an ‘in training’ sign on her door, so that he could have gone to one of the others. Now it was too late.
