buttoned up, turned and looked at it. Then he moved towards it. Grabbed the spade as he passed the snowmobile. The plan had been to walk straight in, but instead he stood in front of the plain stone steps to the low door. Listened. Nothing. What the hell was he doing? There was no one here. He went up the steps, tried to raise his hand and grasp the handle, but it wouldn’t move. What the hell was going on? His heart was beating so hard in his chest that it hurt, as if it wanted to burst out. He was sweating and his body refused to obey orders. And it slowly dawned on Harry that this was exactly how he had heard it described. A panic attack. It was the anger that saved him. He kicked open the door with immense force and crashed into the dark. The door swung shut. There was a strong smell of fat, smoked meat and dried blood. Something moved in the stripe of moonlight and a pair of eyes flashed. Harry swung the spade. And he hit something. Heard the dead sound of meat, felt it give. The door behind him fell open again and the moonlight streamed in. Harry stared at the dead deer hanging in front of him. At the other animal carcasses. He dropped the spade and sank to his knees. Then it came, all at once. The wall cracking, the snow consuming him alive, panicking that he couldn’t breathe, the long gasp of pure white fear as he fell towards the black rocks. So lonely. For they had all gone. His father was in a coma, in transit. And Rakel and Oleg were silhouettes against the light at an airport, also in transit. Harry wanted to go back. Back to the dripping room. The solid, damp walls. The sweaty mattress and the sweet smoke that transported him to where they were. Transit. Harry bowed his head and felt hot tears streaming down his face.
I have printed a photo of Jussi Kolkka from Dagbladet’s web page and pinned it up on the wall next to the others. There wasn’t a word in the news about Harry Hole and the other police officers who were there. Or Iska Peller, for that matter. Was it a bluff? They’re trying anyway. And now there is a dead policeman. They’re going to try harder. They HAVE to try harder. Do you hear me, Hole? No? You should do. I’m so close I could whisper it in your ear.
PART SEVEN
64
State of Health
Olav Hole’s condition was unchanged, Dr Abel had said.
Harry sat by the hospital bed looking at his unchanged father while a heart monitor played its beep-beep song interspersed with skipped beats. Sigurd Altman came in, greeted Harry and noted down the figures from the screen onto a pad.
‘Actually, I’m here to visit a Kaja Solness,’ Harry said, getting up. ‘But I don’t know which ward she’s in. Could you…?’
‘Your colleague who was brought in by helicopter the other night? She’s in intensive care. Only until they’ve got all the test results. She’d been buried in the snow for quite a while. When they said Havass I assumed she must have been this witness from Sydney the police were talking about on the radio.’
‘Don’t believe everything you hear, Altman. While Kaja was lying in the snow the Australian lady was safe and warm in Bristol, with her own guards and full room service.’
‘Hang on.’ Altman scrutinised Harry. ‘Were you buried in the snow as well?’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘The unsteady step you just took. Dizzy?’
Harry shrugged.
‘Confused?’
‘Constantly,’ Harry said.
Altman smiled. ‘You’ve got a bit too much CO2 in you. The body disposes of it quickly when you breathe in oxygen, but you ought to have a blood test so that we can check your carbon dioxide levels.’
‘No, thank you,’ Harry said. ‘How’s he getting on?’ He nodded towards the bed.
‘What did the doctor say?’
‘Unchanged. I’m asking you.’
‘I’m not a doctor, Harry.’
‘So you don’t need to answer like one. Give me an estimate.’
‘I can’t…’
‘It’ll remain between us.’
Sigurd Altman eyed Harry. Was on the point of saying something. Changed his mind. Chewed his lower lip. ‘Days,’ he said.
‘Not even weeks?’
Altman didn’t answer.
‘Thanks, Sigurd,’ Harry said and went to the door.
Kaja’s face was pale and beautiful against the pillowslip. Like a flower in a herbarium, Harry thought. Her hand was small and cold in his. On the bedside table was today’s Aftenposten with the AVALANCHE BURIES CABIN IN HAVASS headline. It described the tragic event and quoted Mikael Bellman, who said it was a great loss that Officer Kolkka had died protecting Iska Peller. He was thankful, however, that the witness had been saved and she was now safe.
‘So the avalanche was started with dynamite?’ Kaja said.
‘Yes, it’s beyond doubt,’ Harry replied.
‘So you and Bellman worked well together up there, did you?’
‘Yes, indeed.’ Harry turned to shield his coughing fit.
‘Heard you found a snowmobile at the bottom of a ravine. With a possible body underneath.’
‘Yes. Bellman stayed in Ustaoset to go back to the site with the local County Officer.’
‘Krongli?’
‘No, he couldn’t be located. But his deputy, Roy Stille, seemed solid. They’ve quite a job on their hands, though. We weren’t sure where we were, more snow has fallen and it’s drifting, and in that terrain…’ Harry shook his head.
‘Any idea who the body might be?’
Harry shrugged. ‘I would be very surprised if it wasn’t Tony Leike.’
Kaja’s head spun round. ‘Oh?’
‘I haven’t told anyone yet, but I saw the corpse’s fingers.’
‘What about them?’
‘They were twisted. Tony Leike had arthritis.’
‘Do you think he started the avalanche? And then drove over the precipice in the dark?’
Harry shook his head. ‘Tony told me he knew the area well, it was his terrain. It was a clear day and the snowmobile wasn’t going fast – it landed only three metres from the point where it took off. And he had a burned arm, which was not caused by dynamite. And the snowmobile was not burned.’
‘Wha-?’
‘I think Tony Leike was tortured, killed and then dumped with the snowmobile so that we wouldn’t find the body.’
Kaja pulled a face.
Harry rubbed his little finger. He wondered whether it could have frostbite. ‘What do you think about this Krongli?’
‘Krongli?’ Kaja chewed on that one. ‘If it’s true he tried to rape Charlotte Lolles, he should never have become a policeman, should he.’
‘He beat his wife up, too.’
‘Doesn’t surprise me.’
‘It doesn’t?’
‘No.’
He looked at her. ‘Is there something you haven’t told me?’
