Death on Pilot Hill

“Obviously we are not as intelligent as you are. That’s why a few months ago I shut down the investigation. . it was obvious we were getting nowhere. But now the higher-ups want the investigation reactivated. . they’re getting a lot of flak over it.”

“Who was in charge?”

“Trygve Nilsen.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“He’s a Chief Inspector. . just like you.”

“Why am I not surprised that you promoted him?”

“He’s a hard worker. And loyal.”

Sohlberg almost shouted a vulgarity. Instead he shrugged.

“Listen here Sohlberg. . I’m reassigning him. . he’ll be investigating recent death threats over the Nobel Peace Prize. . seems some terrorists published a video in Pakistan saying that they’re going to blow up the storting. . the parliament because of some recent Nobel Peace Prize awards.”

“How nice. Instead of getting fired Nilsen gets a plum job for a botched investigation into the unsolved disappearance of a little boy. I see nothing has changed here.”

“Actually it has. . Sohlberg.”

“Don’t make me laugh.”

“Effective immediately I am appointing you to lead the investigation into the disappearance of Karl Haugen. Sit down! Don’t even think of walking out of this office to call your pals at Interpol. The Politidirektor. . the National Police Commissioner already called the General Secretary of Interpol. He gladly released you to solve this apparent kidnaping.”

“What?”

“Interpol is assigning you here indefinitely until you solve the case.”

“What?”

“Check your e-mail. You’ll find official Interpol notification. You will also find the Politidirektor’s written assignment officially naming you as the lead on the Karl Haugen case.”

Sohlberg said nothing but felt lightheaded enough to pass out.

“Ain’t it great Sohlberg? You’re back working for me. . just like in the good old days. The good news is that you can leave Norway as soon as you solve the case. I suggest you work fast and solve the case soon. I’ve heard through the grapevine how much you and your wife love living in Seattle.”

At first Sohlberg thought that he was the target of a prank. Then he thought that Thorsen was testing him to see if he wanted to come back to Norway. Sohlberg felt like vomiting when the reality sank in that this was no joke.

“Come with me Sohlberg and I’ll show you your cubicle down the hallway. I’ve assigned you a recent graduate from the academy. . a Grade One Politibetjent. . Police Constable Wenke Wangelin. She pArcticipated in the investigation from the very beginning.”

Sohlberg expected Wangelin to be nothing less than a dumb mediocrity chosen by the dumb mediocrity of Ivar Thorsen. He was surprised when a muscular and good-looking 30-something blonde walked up to him and introduced herself with a very strong handshake.

“Politiforstebetjent. . Chief Inspector Sohlberg. . it’s an honor to meet you. I’ve read a lot about you. . I wrote a term paper in law school on how you solved the Wassenaar murders through new forensic techniques.”

Sohlberg nodded. He rarely came across good-looking people who had intelligence. He liked the fact that she did not call him by his first name. Having lived abroad for so long he had come to intensely dislike how Norwegians used first names at work and overall went too far at work with a fake equality that bordered on the insolent.

After a few more questions Sohlberg knew that Constable Wangelin was intelligent and dedicated. That meant one thing: Ivar Thorsen and his bosses definitely wanted the case solved. In other words Sohlberg was apparently not being set up to fail nor did it appear that he and Wangelin were being thrown together as window-dressing to trick the media and the public into believing that the government was finally serious about solving the case.

“Chief Inspector Sohlberg,” said Wangelin, “I suggest we go down the hallway to the Karl Haugen room. . as we call it.”

“You two go ahead,” said Ivar Thorsen. “I have other chores to look after. Let me make perfectly clear Sohlberg that you are authorized to do whatever it takes to solve the case. Take any and all action. I will sign any requisition form you present me for manpower or equipment or any other resources.”

Sohlberg walked away in a daze and still somewhat incredulous at the unexpected turn of events. He could not quit or resign. He still had ten more years to go before he could collect a full pension. He and Fru Sohlberg had made many sacrifices and plans around that pension.

Constable Wangelin pointed at the combination door lock and whispered, “The code is one-one-seven. . that was Karl Haugen’s height. . one point seventeen meters. . The code to get in the computer files is ‘kh at 22.7'. . his initials and weight in kilometers. He is a cute little boy. Imagine him so slight. . just fifty pounds and three feet eight inches tall.”

“I notice that you said ‘He is a cute little boy’.”

“I’m sorry. . am I being too optimistic?”

“I don’t know. One also has to be realistic no?”

She walked him through four rows of tall metal shelves that held 68 binders filled with 4,500 leads among thousands and thousands of pages of police reports. Each binder was at least four inches thick.

“Hhhmmm. . interesting,” said Sohlberg. “But we’ll never be able to read this ourselves. It would take twenty or thirty investigators many weeks to go through this stuff.”

“That’s not going to happen anytime soon. . Commissioner Thorsen dismantled the Karl Haugen Task Force. . fifty-two investigators at one point. I think that’s why he brought you in.”

“To do the work that fifty-two people couldn’t right the first time?”

“We worked hard Chief Inspector. The problem was that no one coordinated our work. We had no direction or leadership. It was more like. . ‘Just go out there and do something.’”

“Ah yes. . the idiot’s solution of throwing people and money at a problem and hoping it gets magically solved.”

Constable Wangelin smiled and then showed him three secure laptops on a conference table. The computers connected directly to a mainframe at KRIPOS (National Bureau of Crime Investigation).

“Hhhmmm. . interesting,” said Sohlberg. “I once met Rolf Harry Jahrmann. . the father of KRIPOS. I also met several of the people who worked for him. . ja. . the old E-Group. . the Mordkommisjonen. . the Homicide or Murder Commission. But enough of old memories.”

“This laptop Chief Inspector is dedicated to a special software on the KRIPOS mainframe that has helped us catalog and sort through more than four thousand two hundred fifty-seven tips that investigators have received over the past year.”

“I’m sure that the proverbial needle is in that haystack Constable Wangelin. But how are we going to find it? Let’s not get mesmerized by fancy technology. . these computers are really toys. I prefer good old fashion questioning. . as if we just started the case fresh. . new.”

“Ja. A fresh approach will be best.”

“Obviously. . one year later no one can explain how a seven-year-old boy vanished in the middle of his school in the middle of the morning while he was surrounded by hundreds of adults and children and teachers attending a kiddie science fair.”

She blushed and showed him stacks of maps with various colors that plotted the 155 square miles searched for Karl Haugen.

“Interesting. But they’re not needed now. Maybe later.”

“As you can imagine Chief Inspector. . a big reason for these maps was to show the media and the public that we were working hard.”

“That seems to be the problem here. . working hard but not smart. Or should I say. . appearing to work hard.”

“Do you want to see more?”

“No. I’d like you to prepare a one page summary of what is actually known. . as facts. . to have actually