Slavic features, expresses the qualities of a native Norwegian. Her clothes are stylish, but just slightly toned down so as not to make other women jealous of her looks. Her hair is carefully styled to look natural. She’s not self- consciously trendy or rebellious enough to be from Grunerlokka, but she isn’t bedecked in watches and jewelery that she hasn’t had the time to earn either, and therefore suggesting old money from Frogner.
Perhaps out in Skoyen or St Hanshaugen. Maybe a nice part of Bislett.
She tells her story quickly and with such narrative confidence that she exudes integrity and purpose. And a certain level of youthful immaturity as well.
‘He’s not a bad person,’ she says to Sigrid. ‘He’s a good person. He’s just stupid. Stupid like a piece of fruit. Stupid, stupid, stupid…’
‘OK. I see. What did he do?’
‘Well, he didn’t come home last night, that’s for one thing. He asked me about this old man and kid, and I didn’t know what he was talking about, and I told him to explain it, and he wouldn’t, and he said I should ask around “in my community”… and what does that mean, anyway… so I got upset and told him that the Serbs aren’t “my community” any more than the Japanese are, and then he started getting high and mighty like he had some deep insight into the human condition, and… ’
‘Where is he now?’ asks Petter, trying to find a foothold.
‘Now? Like, right now? I have no idea. He disappeared. So I assume he’s with his dangerous friends. Gjon, Enver, Kadri…’
‘Enver Bardhosh Berisha? Kadri…’
‘Yeah, yeah, them. You know them?’
‘Yes. Where are they?’
‘I don’t know. But Burim said they’re looking for the old man and the boy. I think they saw something. I think the old man is hiding with the boy. I think you need to find them.’
‘Can you stay here for a few minutes, please?’
‘I didn’t do anything wrong.’
‘No, no, it’s not that. We’re very grateful you’re here. Just don’t go away. I need some of my colleagues to ask you a few details.’
‘I love him,’ says Adrijana. ‘He’s stupid, but he’s kind, and he’s gentle, and he’s a moron, and he acts like an abused puppy, but…’
‘I understand,’ says Sigrid. ‘Just stay here.’
Out in the main room again, she waves to get everyone’s attention. When she feels she has it, she calls out loudly.
‘Anything. Anything at all. Any information on Horowitz. Just shout it out.’
A quiet man named Jorgen raises his hand. Sigrid opens her palms to signal that she is prepared to catch anything.
‘I spoke to an officer from Trogstad. He said he pulled over an old German man yesterday. He was driving a tractor pulling a raft. He had his grandson with him.’
‘An old German and a young boy.’
‘Yeah. He said he remembers it clearly because the boy was dressed like a Jewish Viking.’
‘A Jewish Viking.’
‘Yeah. A big star on his shirt, and horns on his head.’
‘An old German was driving a tractor pulling a Jewish Viking on a raft, and no one thought this was worth bringing to my attention?’
‘The bulletin we sent out said the old man was American. Since this man was German, he didn’t see the need to mention it.’
Sigrid sits down in the nearest empty chair. She can no longer be sure of the source of the pain in her head. This morning she was sure the pain was coming from the outside of her skull. Now she is not so certain.
Petter is still standing. He says, ‘It looks like the woman was right.’
‘What woman?’
‘Ms Horowitz. She said being Jewish mattered. Perhaps we should have mentioned it in the bulletin.’
‘You think?’ Shaking her head, she asks, ‘Are we the most naive people in Europe?’
‘Actually, there was recently a survey…’
‘I don’t want to know.’
‘If we consider when the boat was found, and then draw a line to the tractor sighting, we can see them moving north-east from Drobak.’
‘In the direction of the summer house.’
‘More or less.’
‘Any sighting of the tractor?’
Jorgen shakes his head.
‘Call every unit between Trogstad and Kongsvinger, and tell them to get on the road and look for it. And start with the ones in the north, not the south, OK? We tighten the grip from the top, not the bottom.’
Petter puts his hand on Sigrid’s shoulder.
Sigrid looks up at Petter. She gives him a smirk.
‘You have to admit, the old fox is kicking our arse,’ Petter says.
‘I’ll take my hat off to him when we get the boy back safely.’
‘He should have turned the child over to us.’
Sigrid knows better.
‘I don’t think this is a man defined by trust,’ she says.
Chapter 19
Sigrid sits in the passenger seat of the speeding Volvo V60. The lights are flashing, and Petter’s face is grim. They have called Rhea and Lars. They have not received an answer.
The police radio is on, and the local law-enforcement has been notified. The Beredskapstroppen are coming from three different locations to converge on the summer house, and are well-armed and briefed. Sigrid has taken command of the operation, and everything is on hold until she gives the word for an assault.
‘We’re out on a limb here,’ Petter says after thirty minutes of silence on the highway.
‘I’m right. The old man is going to the house with the boy, and I’ll bet you a whisky that Enver and his clan are waiting to take the boy if they haven’t already.’
‘We really don’t know any of this.’
The nausea remains, but her focus has returned. Sigrid is angry, and the anger heals her. Petter is not wrong, but he isn’t right either.
‘The man and boy live in the same building,’ she says. ‘The box from the boy’s mother was under the man’s bed. She went in there with her son to hide. He hid them because he’s that kind of a man. He heard his neighbour at risk, and he stepped up to help. But something happened. Bardosh broke in, and Horowitz and the son hid in the closet. The boy urinated, and somehow they both got out. Bardosh and his gang learned this, one way or another, and they’ve been hunting for them. Horowitz has kept a step ahead of all of us. He probably thinks they don’t know about the summer house. And maybe they don’t. But maybe they do. After all, the movie buff was skulking around in the old man’s room. If they learned about the summer house, surely they’d send someone there to look around.
‘I can’t get Rhea and Lars on the phone. So I’m going to take a risk and assume they can’t pick it up. If I’m wrong, we scare them with a big entrance and I become the laughing stock of the police force for a few weeks. If I’m right, we’re showing up to a fight, well armed. Unless,’ she says, ‘the fight is already over.’
The speed limit on this stretch of road is eighty kilometres an hour, and Petter is driving at one hundred and thirty. They should be at the staging point in forty or fifty minutes if the traffic stays light.
She takes a key from around her neck, opens the glove box, and removes a Glock 17 9mm pistol. She releases the magazine and pulls it from the gun, which she places on her lap. Then she presses her fingers down
