the skeletal and distorted agonizing face of the lonely and sick and terrorized person that he saw at the Munch- museet or Munch Museum.
He made his mind up at the gym to make sure that his scream would be the last thing that she ever heard while he killed her.
His face and his scream would provide just the perfect ending for her. From the long window in the locker room he saw dozens of Sankthans bonfires blazing away. In the pagan days the bonfires supposedly kept away witches or evil spirits from roaming the land during the endless daylight of midsummer. He remembered how his mother like many other old-fashioned and superstitious Norwegians used to throw straw dummies that looked like witches into the bonfires.
He had an evil witch to kill.
The next June 23rd a year from today would be the day of her death. That would give him more than enough time to plan and execute. And execute he would.
One hour before midnight. The Otterstads and their guests sit by the beach in groups listening to jokes and music and playing games and it all seems so festive and normal and happy to Sohlberg and yet the unnatural daylight fills him with dread. The pale midnattsol hangs in the sky like an unwelcome guest of ill omen.
“Are you okay?”
Fru Sohlberg has noticed his depression. He must be careful. “I’m just not used to it anymore I guess.”
“I know. It’s so odd to be back and see sun and daylight in the middle of the night.”
“Maybe I should’ve taken a nap like you suggested. I feel a little lightheaded.”
Nora Otterstad immediately intervenes and takes both Sohlbergs to the main house. She lodges them in a small study near the main living room so that Sohlberg can take a nap on a very comfortable sofa while Fru Sohlberg watches over him.
A restless sleep brings little relief to Sohlberg. He dreams that time itself is frozen and that the future is forever postponed. In other words he only has the past and the present while he’s trapped in the present. He is literally a man without a future.
At 11:45 PM Fru Sohlberg wakes him up and says:
“The Otterstads are going to take us home as soon as they light the Sankthans bal. . the Midsummer’s Eve bonfire by the beach. Okay?”
“No. Let’s stay. I’m okay.”
“No you’re not on the longest day of the year. . a day with no night. Imagine what that does to a man in your condition.”
“What condition?”
“You know. . you know what I mean. . ”
“What do you mean by my
“Oh please. . don’t you see?. . We never recovered from jet-lag since arriving in Denmark. It’s too much. You need to rest. And you’ve had so many memories to deal with after coming back to your parents’ home and. . Look. . I don’t feel too good myself. We’re just not used to these day-filled nights.”
The Sohlbergs apologize and say their goodbyes to their hosts and everyone else about a half hour after midnight. Leif Otterstad pilots them quickly back home through the placid waters.
Sohlberg turns one last time to watch the giant 30-foot bonfire on the Otterstad property. Bonfires dot all of the beaches around the Oslofjord and the fires lend a wild and savage air reminiscent of the pagan Viking era and no one can escape the primal and visceral feeling that something imminent and far bigger than themselves is unfolding.
Chapter 5
1 YEAR AND 22 DAYS AFTER
THE DAY, FRIDAY, JUNE 4
“A new form of Number Four heroin is about to hit the streets. . it’s cheap and extremely dangerous. . with purity rates of ninety-eight percent and higher. . This deadly heroin is named Osama-H. . because it was developed and manufactured by Russian and Bulgarian scientists hired by Osama bin Laden.”
With that introduction Sohlberg had the undivided attention of the department heads in charge of vice and drugs in all 27 of Norway’s police districts. They had gathered in downtown Oslo to hear Sohlberg’s 40-minute talk on international heroin smuggling. They met in a small auditorium at 12 Hammersborggata where the sleek and modern 7-floor building of the Politidirektoratet or National Police Directorate occupied most of the city block on the southeast corner of Hammersborggata and Torggata.
After his talk Solhlberg took the elevator to Ivar Thorsen’s office on the top floor.
They shook hands and sat down. Sohlberg observed the two fancy glasses and the two elegant bottles of Voss artesian water that sat ostentatiously on the desk. Of course Ivar Thorsen no longer drank Farris mineral water out of the bottle. He was now a big man in the police. Sohlberg smiled at the pretensions which included elegant Swedish furniture and modern art paintings.
How the Oslo district police commissioner’s office had changed!
Who would have thought that Ivar Thorsen would ever sit in a lavish corner office?
In his wildest imaginations Sohlberg would never have
“Do the taxpayers know how their money is being spent up here?”
“Don’t be obnoxious Sohlberg. Try to be pleasant for a change.”
“I am being pleasant. I didn’t say what was really on my mind.”
“Well. . I myself will tell you exactly what is on my mind.”
A long and uncomfortable pause followed.
Sohlberg’s mouth almost dropped open when he heard Ivar Thorsen’s next words:
“I need your help Sohlberg. I have a cold case. Perhaps you’ve already heard of it. . the missing seven-year- old boy who vanished one morning in school and has never been seen again.”
“The Karl Haugen boy?. . I saw it on the news a few days ago on N.R.K. One and Two.”
Sohlberg also remembered his wife showing him a special anniversary section on the case on the Sunday edition of
“Ja,” said Thorsen. “You can’t miss the case.”
“Just this morning. . as I was coming in. . I saw huge headlines plastered on
“Ja ja. The media is all over us because the one year anniversary came and went without us getting any closer to solving the disappearance.”
“One year. . that’s almost beyond solving.”
“But-”
“Thorsen. . you know the rule. . less than half of all missing cases and homicides are ever solved at all unless they are solved within the first forty-eight hours. And you now have a missing case that’s twelve months old?”
“We did our best. We put tons of people and man-hours into it.”
“That’s why my rule is to work smart not hard.”
