‘And then, of course, there are all those who hate gays,’ said Karen.
Dessert arrived at their table.
‘Strawberry carpaccio with a vanilla crust and a miniature champagne sorbet,’ said the waiter, placing the plates in front of them. ‘I hope you enjoy it.’
‘How big are these groups?’ asked Johanne when they were alone again.
Karen stuck her spoon into the slices of strawberry. She rested her elbows on the table and gazed at her food as she answered slowly.
‘That’s not an easy question to answer, actually. As far as the purely racist organizations are concerned, they’re bigger than you can imagine. Some of them are really old, and are run like military forces. As for the others, particularly the anti-gay groups, it’s much more difficult to…’
She put the spoon in her mouth and closed her eyes in bliss as she chewed. She searched for the right words.
‘How shall I put it?… More difficult to define.’
Johanne nodded. She was also trying to find the right words, and asked: ‘Because of strong links with church communities, which are actually legitimate?’
‘Yes,’ said Karen. ‘That’s one reason. Initially, we define a hate group as a more or less established organization that fosters hatred against groups, or promotes this hatred in some other way. They’re not classified as criminal until they overstep the mark with regard to the rules on freedom of speech to which most countries subscribe, incite others to carry out actions punishable by law, or carry out such actions themselves, where the individual focus of this criminal action is targeted because they belong to a large group of people with specific, recognizable characteristics.’
She let out a long breath.
‘That’s not the first time you’ve said that,’ smiled Johanne.
‘I might have gone through it a few times.’
She was eating more slowly now. Johanne was full to bursting, and pushed her plate away.
‘To give you one example,’ said Karen. ‘This happened in 2007. A young man, Satender Singh, was on holiday at Lake Natoma in California. He was from Fiji, and one day he was at a restaurant with some Indian friends. A group of people who spoke Russian decided that they could tell Satender was gay, and, to cut a long story short, they killed him.’
Johanne sat in silence.
‘It does happen that homosexuals are killed just because they’re homosexuals,’ Karen went on. ‘The particular thing about this case was that the murderers belonged to a very large group of Slavic religious immigrants in the Sacramento area. Their church communities are extreme in their condemnation of homosexuality. We’re talking about almost a hundred thousand people, divided among seventy fundamentalist congregations in an area which used to be heavily populated by gays. To say that the relationship between these groups is now highly charged would be something of an understatement. The Christians are running an intensive anti-gay propaganda campaign, using both their own TV and radio stations and an enormous capacity to mobilize. At some protest meetings held by gay organizations, there are more anti-demonstrators than demonstrators.’
She took a deep breath and scraped up the remains of her sauce with her fork before going on.
‘But when do they take that extra step and become criminals? On the one hand, it’s clear they feel hatred. Their use of language and not least the disproportionate amount of attention they give to this whole issue makes it very clear that this is a question of pure, insane hatred. In addition, several of their spiritual leaders have refused to distance themselves from the murder of Satender, for example. On the other hand, freedom of speech is, and will remain, quite far-reaching, and many of those within such communities right across the US are very careful not to incite violence and murder directly.’
‘They build the foundations for actions based on hatred, they refuse to condemn such actions when they occur, and afterwards they wash their hands of the whole thing because they didn’t come straight out and say “kill them”.’
‘Exactly,’ said Karen, nodding. ‘And when a priest proclaims into the ether that homosexuals are wallowing in sin and will die an agonizing death, they will burn in hell, they will… Well, he can simply say he was referring to the word and the will of God. If one of God’s children took him literally, that’s not his problem. And as you’re well aware, religious freedom and the freedom of speech are…’
‘The very basis of America’s existence,’ Johanne concluded.
‘More coffee?’
The waiter must have had a first-class degree in patience. They had been the only customers in the restaurant for more than half an hour. The staff were just waiting for them to finish. And yet the waiter took the time to top up their coffee cups and fetch more hot milk.
‘None of this is good news,’ said Karen when he’d gone. ‘And apart from these extreme church groups, we have more established organizations in several parts of the US. Like the American Family Association. Of course, they don’t incite murder either, but they make a hell of a lot of noise, and constantly create a bad atmosphere when it comes to public debate. A little while ago they started a boycott of McDonald’s, of all things.’
‘Actually, that sounds quite sensible,’ said Johanne with a smile. ‘But why?’
‘Because the chain had bought advertising space at one of the Gay Pride festivals.’
‘And how did it go?’
‘The whole thing failed, of course. On that occasion. But some of these groups are powerful and influential; they have plenty of money, and they don’t care what methods they use. They certainly express hatred, but you can’t call them criminal. But the most frightening thing of all is that…’
She raised her glass in a silent toast.
‘Recently we’ve seen signs of a more systematic persecution. Six murders of gay men during the past year are still unsolved: three in New York, one in Seattle and two in Dallas. Each case was thoroughly investigated over a long period by the local police. The murders were all carried out using different methods, and other circumstances varied. However, our investigators gradually discovered that two of the victims were cousins; the third had been a school friend of the first; the fourth had travelled around Europe by train with the second; and the last two had had brief relationships with the fourth two years apart. The FBI has taken over the cases. Not that they’ve got any closer to finding the perpetrator. But our department isn’t going to let this go until it’s solved.’
‘Bloody hell,’ Johanne mumbled. ‘What theories do you have?’
‘Plenty.’
The noise from the kitchen had increased in volume. Whisks and ladles crashed down on metal worktops, and they could clearly hear the dishwasher. Johanne looked at her watch.
‘I think we ought to make a move,’ she said, hesitating briefly before she added: ‘Do you still enjoy walking, Karen?’
‘Me? I walk all the time!’
Johanne asked for the bill. It had been ready for a long time, and Karen grabbed it before Johanne had even realized the waiter was there.
‘My treat.’
Johanne didn’t have the energy to argue.
‘Shall we walk back to my place and have a nightcap?’ she asked as Karen got out her credit card. ‘It’s only about twenty minutes from here. Maybe a bit more in this weather.’
‘Fantastic,’ said Karen delightedly. She showered the waiter with compliments, picked up her coat and headed for the door.
‘Oslo is a really quiet city,’ she said in surprise when they got outside.
The traffic lights at the junction between Hans Nielsen Hauges Vei and Sandakerveien changed from amber to red with not a car in sight. The dirt and fumes from the day’s traffic were concealed beneath a thin layer of fresh snow. There was hardly a footprint to be seen on the pavement. The clouds hung low over the city, and towards the southwest a pale yellow glow shone from the street lamps in the centre.
‘This is mainly a residential area,’ said Johanne. ‘And in any case people don’t go out much at night after Christmas. Norwegians party themselves to a standstill in December. January is the month of good intentions.’
They passed the video shop on the corner and set off along Sandakerveien.
