topic. But anyway, they talked about the fact that the President had bought lots of new clothes for her first overseas visit. Including a jacket that she was going to wear on the Norwegian national day in exactly the same shade of red as the Norwegian flag. Someone had told her that you are quite… sensitive about things like that.’
A fleeting smile crossed his face, but no one responded.
‘And you are a hundred per cent certain that no one else from your people is involved? That Jeffrey Hunter was operating alone?’
‘As certain as it’s possible to be,’ Warren Scifford said. ‘But with all due respect, I have to say that I don’t like the direction this meeting has taken at all. I’m not here to be lectured by you. I’m here to give you the information you need to find President Bentley. And to hear how far you’ve got with the investigation.’
There was a hint of irony in his voice as he straightened his back. Terje Bastesen cleared his throat and put down the coffee cup that seemed to be a permanent fixture in his hand. He was about to say something when Adam pipped him to the post.
‘Don’t even go there,’ he said.
His voice was friendly, but his eyes narrowed enough to make Warren blink.
‘You know everything from our side,’ Adam said. ‘We give you the information as soon as we can get hold of you. Which has proved to be difficult at times, by the way. We have two thousand people…’ he stopped, as if he had only just grasped the huge number, ‘working on this case, from the police organisations alone. In addition, there are the people from the ministries, the directorates and, to a certain extent, the mili-’
‘We have a total of sixty-two thousand Americans,’ Warren interrupted without raising his voice, ‘who at this moment are trying to establish who kidnapped the President. In addition-’
‘This is not a competition!’
Everyone looked at Peter Salhus. He had stood up. Adam and Warren exchanged looks like two boys who had been caught quarrelling in the playground by the headmaster.
‘There can be absolutely no doubt that this is a top-priority investigation in both countries,’ Salhus said. His voice was even deeper than normal. ‘And I’m quite sure that the Americans are looking at the possibilities of a bigger conspiracy and context. The CIA, FBI and NSA have adopted quite a new… let’s say attitude to exchanging information and intelligence over the past twenty-four hours. It is counterproductive to say the least, but doesn’t prevent us from seeing the direction in which you’re working. We also have our sources, which I’m sure you know about. And it is, of course, only a matter of time before journalists in the US get wind of the methods you are using.’
Warren didn’t blink.
‘And that will be your problem,’ Salhus said and shrugged. ‘My interpretation of the data we’ve received, which I’ve compared with the information that cannot be kept out of the public domain…’
He bent down and pulled a document from a file lying on the floor by the chair he had just got up from.
‘Very limited air traffic,’ he read. ‘Complete stop of air traffic from certain countries, most of them Muslim. Extensive reductions in staff in public offices. Schools have been closed until further notice.’ He waved the paper around before putting it back in the file. ‘And I could go on. The sum of it all is obvious. You expect further attacks. Attacks with far greater consequences than stealing the American president.’
Warren Scifford opened his mouth and raised his hand.
‘Spare us your protests,’ the Norwegian director of intelligence said. His bass voice trembled with suppressed anger. ‘I will only repeat what Stubo here just said. Do not underestimate us.’
His great index finger was only centimetres from the American’s nose.
‘What you have to remember, what you
Warren wrinkled his brow and pulled his head back. Salhus just came closer. His finger was shaking.
‘… is that it is us, the Norwegian police, who have a chance of solving this case.
Warren sat completely still.
‘So you can carry on trying to place the event in a bigger context, without any interference from us.
The man gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Salhus took a deep breath, lowered his hand and continued. ‘What I find incredible is that not only are you refusing to help us, but you are in fact sabotaging our investigation by not giving us information like, for example, the fact that a Secret Service agent has mysteriously disappeared.’
He was standing right in front of the American.
‘If an old lady out for a walk in the forest had not wandered off the track into the ditch, and then collapsed unconscious a few metres away, we would have had no idea that…’
Peter Salhus coughed and paused, as if he really had to stop himself flying into a rage.
‘I have, together with the Chief of Police, Mr Bastesen here, the Minister of Justice and the Foreign Minister, sent a formal complaint to your government,’ he continued, without sitting down. ‘And it was copied to the Secret Service and the FBI.’
‘I’m afraid that my government, the FBI and the Secret Service have more serious things to worry about at the moment than a complaint,’ Warren said, without any expression. ‘But please… be my guest! I can’t stop you from corresponding with others if you have the time for that sort of thing.’
He got up suddenly and grabbed the military-green sports jacket that was hanging over the arm of the chair.
‘I’m basically done here,’ he said with a smile. ‘I’ve got what I came for. And you’ve got something out of it too. A satisfactory meeting, in other words.’
The three other men in the room were so astonished by this sudden closure that they couldn’t think of anything to say. Warren Scifford had to put his hand on Salhus’ arm to move him out of the way.
‘And by the way,’ the American said, turning around once he had crossed the room; the others still could think of nothing sensible to say. ‘You’re wrong about who’s going to solve this case.
He was smiling broadly with his mouth, but his eyes were anything but friendly.
‘The party that finds the President,’ he added, ‘is the one that will be able to solve the case.
The door slammed behind him, a bit too loudly.
XXX
‘We’ve found the President,’ whispered Johanne Vik. ‘It’s in…’ She didn’t know what to say and felt the urge to giggle. But as that would be about as inappropriate as laughing at a funeral, she pulled herself together. And started to cry again instead. She felt totally exhausted, and the absurdity of the situation was in no way diminished by the fact that Hanne stood resolutely by her decision not to raise the alarm. Johanne had tried everything: reason and common sense, begging, threats. Nothing helped.
‘A woman like Helen Bentley knows best herself,’ Hanne said softly, and carefully laid a blanket over the President. ‘Can you give me a hand, please?’
Helen Bentley’s breathing was heavy and even. Hanne held two fingers flat on her wrist and looked at her watch. She moved her mouth as she counted silently, until she gently put the President’s hand back on her hip.
‘Good steady pulse,’ she whispered. ‘In fact, I don’t think she’s unconscious. I think she’s just asleep. Conked out. Completely exhausted, mentally and physically.’
She rolled her chair into the next room as quietly as possible. On the way out, she turned to the voice-operated
