Kaja studied the man held in the red-haired woman’s embrace, her head bowed over his bared neck.
‘What can you see?’ Mikael asked. His voice echoed around the walls of the museum.
‘She’s kissing him,’ Kaja said, stepping back from the painting. ‘Or comforting him.’
‘She’s biting him and sucking his blood,’ Mikael said.
‘Why do you think that?’
‘It’s one of the reasons Munch called this The Vampire. Everything ready?’
‘Yes, I’m taking the train to Ustaoset soon.’
‘Why did you want to meet here now?’
Kaja took a deep breath. ‘I wanted to tell you that we can’t go on meeting.’
Mikael Bellman rocked on his heels. ‘Love and Pain.’
‘What?’
‘That’s what Munch originally called this painting. Did Harry go over the details of our plan with you?’
‘Yes. Did you hear what I said?’
‘Thank you, Solness, my hearing is excellent. Unless my memory is at fault, you’ve said that a couple of times before. I suggest you give it some thought.’
‘I’ve finished giving it some thought, Mikael.’
He stroked the knot of his tie. ‘Have you slept with him?’
She gave a start. ‘Who?’
Bellman chuckled.
Kaja didn’t turn round; she kept her eyes firmly fixed on the woman’s face as his steps receded into the distance.
The light seeped through the grey steel blinds, and Harry warmed his hands around a white coffee cup with ‘Kripos’ inscribed in blue letters. The conference room was identical to the one in which he had spent so many hours of his life at Crime Squad. Light, expensive and yet spartan in that cool modern way that is not intentionally minimalist, just somewhat soulless. A room that demands efficiency so that you can get the hell out of it.
The eight people there constituted what Bellman declared the inner core of the investigative unit. Harry knew only two of them: Bjorn Holm and a robust, down-to-earth but not very imaginative female detective known as the Pelican who had once worked at Crime Squad. Bellman had introduced Harry to everyone, including?rdal, a man in horn-rimmed glasses and a brown suit of the ready-made variety that led one’s thoughts to the German Democratic Republic. He sat at the far end of the table cleaning his nails with a Swiss army knife. Harry conjectured a background in the military police. They had given their reports. Which all supported Harry’s contention: that the case was in a rut. He noted the defensive attitude, particularly in the report on the search for Tony Leike. The officer responsible went through which passenger lists had been checked with which companies, to no avail, and which authorities in which telephone company had told them that none of their base stations had picked up signals from Leike’s phone. He informed them that no hotels in town had anyone on their books under the name of Leike, but naturally the Captain (even Harry knew the selfappointed and overenthusiastic police informant-cum- receptionist at Hotel Bristol) rang to say he had seen a person answering Tony Leike’s description. The officer gave a report that went into an impressive level of detail, but failed to notice that what emerged was a defence of the result. Zilch. Nada.
Bellman sat at the head of the table with crossed legs and trouser creases that were still as sharp as a knife. He thanked the officers for their reports and made a more formal introduction of Harry by reading quickly from a kind of CV: graduation from Police College, FBI course on serial killers in Chicago, the clown murder case in Sydney, promotion to Inspector and of course the Snowman investigation.
‘So Harry is a part of this team with effect from today,’ Bellman said. ‘He reports to me.’
‘And is subject to only your orders as well?’ the Pelican boomed. Harry recalled that what she was doing now was precisely what had given her the nickname, the way she pushed her chin forward, the long, beak-like nose and the protracted, thin neck as she peered over her glasses. Sceptical and voracious at the same time, considering whether she wanted you on the menu or not.
‘He is not subject to anyone’s orders,’ Bellman said. ‘He has a free role in the team. We may consider Inspector Hole a consultant. Isn’t that right, Harry?’
‘Why not?’ Harry said. ‘An overpaid, overrated guy who thinks he knows something you don’t.’
Cautious titters around the table. Harry exchanged glances with Bjorn Holm, who sent him a nod of encouragement.
‘Except that in this instance he does,’ Mikael Bellman said. ‘You’ve been talking to Iska Peller, Harry.’
‘Yes,’ Harry said. ‘But first I’d like to hear more about your plan to use her as a decoy.’
The Pelican cleared her throat. ‘It hasn’t been formulated in detail. For the time being, our plan is to bring her to Norway, make it public that she’s staying at a place where it’s obvious to the killer that she would be easy prey. And then sit back and hope he swallows the bait.’
‘Mm,’ Harry said. ‘Simple.’
‘Experience tells us simplicity works,’ said the Swiss army knife man in the GDR suit concentrating on the nail of his index finger.
‘Agreed,’ Harry said. ‘But in this instance the decoy won’t play ball.’
Groans and sighs of despair.
‘So I suggest we make it even simpler,’ Harry said. ‘Iska Peller asked why, if we were paid to catch the monster, we couldn’t be the bait ourselves.’
He looked around the table. At least he had their attention. Convincing them would be harder.
‘You see, we have an advantage over the killer. We assume he has the page torn from the Havass guest book, so he has Iska Peller’s name. But he doesn’t know what she looks like. We’re working on the assumption he was at the cabin that night but Iska and Charlotte Lolles got there first. And Iska was ill and spent the evening alone in a bedroom she shared solely with Charlotte. She stayed there until all the others had left. In other words, we can set up a little role play with one of our own number acting the part of Iska, without the killer being any the wiser.’
Another sweeping scan of the table. The scepticism on their faces was layers thick.
‘And how had you envisaged getting someone to come to this performance?’?rdal asked, snapping the knife shut.
‘By Kripos doing what they do best,’ Harry said.
Silence.
‘Which is?’ asked the Pelican at length.
‘Press conferences,’ Harry said.
The silence in the room was tangible. Until the laughter shattered it. Mikael Bellman’s. They looked at their boss in astonishment. And realised that Harry Hole’s plan had already been given the go-ahead.
‘So…’ Harry began.
After the meeting Harry took Bjorn Holm aside.
‘Nose still sore?’ Harry asked.
‘That you trying to apologise?’
‘No.’
‘I… well, you were lucky my nose didn’t break, Harry.’
‘Could have been an improvement, you know.’
‘Are you apologising or not?’
‘Sorry, Bjorn.’
‘Great. And I suppose that means you want a favour?’
‘Yes.’
‘And that is?’
‘I was wondering if you’ve been to Drammen to check Adele’s clothes for DNA. She did meet this guy she was at the cabin with a few times.’
‘We’ve been through her wardrobe, but the problem is that the clothes have been washed, worn and probably been in contact with lots of other people afterwards.’
‘Mm. She wasn’t a skier as far as I know. Checked her skiing gear, have you?’
‘She didn’t have any.’
