Harry studied Krohn. The two of them had seen to it that Svein Finne, a man with multiple convictions for rape, was killed and that Rakel’s murder was pinned on him. Krohn’s motive had been the threats Finne had made against him and his family, while Harry’s had been the desire for who had actually killed Rakel, and their reason for doing it, never coming to light.
‘While Bjørn Holm,’ Johan Krohn said, ‘he had only been a good man. A good friend, a good husband. Isn’t that right?’
‘Yes,’ Harry said, feeling his throat tighten. He signalled to the bar by raising the empty glass.
Krohn took a deep breath. ‘The reason Bjørn Holm killed the woman you loved instead of you was because it was the only way he could make you suffer like he was suffering.’
‘That’s enough now, Krohn.’
‘What I’m trying to say, Harry, is that this is the same thing. Terry Våge wants to disgrace Markus Røed, just like he was disgraced. Let him feel the social condemnation. It can break people, you know? They take their own lives. I myself have had clients who have done that.’
‘Markus Røed is no Bjørn Holm, he’s not a good man.’
‘Maybe not. But he is innocent. In this case anyway.’
Harry closed his eyes. In this case anyway.
‘Goodnight, Harry.’
When Harry opened his eyes, Johan Krohn was gone from the chair, and the drink had arrived on the table.
He tried to drink slowly, but that felt meaningless, so he threw it back. He was soon there, just one more.
A woman came in. Slim, red dress, dark hair, her back was even willowy. There was a time when he saw Rakel everywhere. Not any longer. Yes, he missed it, even the nightmares. As though she felt his eyes on the bare small of her back, the woman at the bar turned and glanced in his direction. Only for the briefest moment, before turning back round. But he had seen it. A look devoid of interest, only slight pity. A look registering that the occupant of the sofa was a very lonely soul. The sort you didn’t want rubbing off on you.
Harry couldn’t remember how he had got to his room as he crawled into bed. As soon as he shut his eyes the same two sentences began churning round in his head.
Make you suffer the way he did.
Innocent. In this case anyway.
The phone buzzed and lit up in the darkness. He turned over and picked it up from the nightstand. It was an MMS from a number prefixed with +52. He didn’t need to guess that was Mexico, because the picture showed Lucille’s face against a background of a wall with peeling paint. She looked older without make-up. She had turned one side of her face to the camera, the one she claimed was prettier. Although pale, she was smiling, as if to comfort the person she knew would receive the picture. And it occurred to him that it was the same kindly regret as in his mother’s face that time she had stood in the classroom doorway with his lunch box.
The text below was short.
5 days, counting.
22
Thursday
Debt
It was five minutes to ten and Katrine and Sung-min were standing outside the conference room, each with a cup of coffee in their hands. Others on the investigation team mumbled morning greetings as they passed on their way into the morning meeting.
‘Right,’ Sung-min said. ‘So, Hole thinks the perpetrator is a cocaine dealer who was at the party?’
‘Sounds like that,’ Katrine said, checking her watch. He had said he would be there early, now it was four minutes to.
‘If the cocaine was so pure, maybe he smuggled it in himself. Along with other things.’
‘What do you mean?’
Sung-min shook his head. ‘Just an association. There was an empty bag of anti-parasitic powder lying not far from the scene. It must have been smuggled in as well.’
‘Oh?’
‘The powder’s banned. Contains powerful toxins against a whole range of intestinal worms, including the serious types.’
‘Serious?’
‘Parasites that can kill dogs and are transmissible to humans. I’ve heard of a couple of dog owners who have contracted it. Attacks the liver, very unpleasant.’
‘You’re saying the killer could be a dog owner?’
‘Who feeds his pet an anti-parasitic cure in the great outdoors before killing and raping his victim? No.’
‘So why...?’
‘Yeah, why. Because we’re grasping at straws. You’ve seen the videos where American traffic cops stop motorists for being a little over the speed limit or having a broken tail light? How cautiously they approach the car, as though someone violating a traffic regulation dramatically increases the likelihood of them being hardened criminals?’
‘Yes, and I know why. Because it does dramatically increase the likelihood of them being hardened criminals. Lots of research on that.’
Sung-min smiled. ‘Exactly. Rule-breakers. That’s all.’
‘OK,’ Katrine said, checking the time again. What had happened? She had seen in Harry’s eyes that there was a danger of him falling completely off the wagon. But he usually still stuck to his word. ‘If you’ve got the bag, you should drop it in to Krimteknisk.’
‘I found it far from the scene,’ Sung-min said. ‘We could’ve picked up a thousand things within that radius which, with a little imagination, might be connected to the murder.’
One minute to ten.
She spotted the officer she had sent down to reception to meet him. And — towering a head taller behind him — Harry Hole. He looked more rumpled than his suit, and it was as if she could see the alcohol on his breath before she smelled it. Katrine noticed how Sung-min automatically straightened up next to her.
Katrine drained the rest of the coffee cup. ‘Shall we get started?’
‘As you can see, we have a visitor,’ Katrine said.
The first part of the plan was working. It was as though the weariness and apathy on the faces in front of her had been washed away.
‘He needs no introduction, but for those of you who are very new, Harry Hole began as a detective here at Crime Squad in...’ She looked at Harry.
He grimaced behind the beard. ‘The Stone Age.’
Chuckling.
‘The Stone Age,’ Katrine said. ‘He’s played a major part in solving some of our biggest cases. He’s been a lecturer at Police College. He is, as far as I’m aware, the only Norwegian who has attended the FBI’s course on serial homicides in Chicago. I wanted to bring him into this investigative team but wasn’t allowed.’ Katrine looked out at the people present. It was only a question of time before Melling got wind that she had brought Harry into the inner sanctum. ‘So, all the better that Markus Røed has hired him to investigate the murders of Susanne and Bertine, which means more expertise is being brought to bear, if not by our superiors.’ She saw Sung-min’s mildly admonitory glance and Magnus Skarre’s furious glare. ‘I’ve invited Harry to speak about these murders in general terms, and so we can ask questions.’
‘First question!’ It was Skarre. His voice shaking with indignation. ‘Why should we listen to a guy talk about serial killers? This is TV show stuff, and two murders by the same hand doesn’t mean—’
‘It does.’ Harry got to his feet from a chair on the front row, but without turning to face the audience. For a moment he seemed to sway, as though the drop in blood pressure would make him tip over, before he stood more firmly. ‘Yes, it does mean it’s a serial killing.’
There was complete silence in the conference room as Harry took two long, slow strides towards the board before he pivoted round. The words came slowly at first, then gradually a little faster, as if his mouth needed to get up to speed. ‘The term serial homicide is an invention of the FBI, and their official definition is “a series of two or more murders, committed by the same offender as separate events”, simple as that.’ He fixed his eyes on Skarre. ‘But although this case is by definition a serial homicide, it doesn’t mean the offender necessarily conforms to your ideas of a serial killer from TV shows. He doesn’t need to be a psychopath, a sadist or a sex maniac. He could be a relatively normal person like you or me with an utterly banal motive, like money, for example. In fact, the second most common motive for serial killers in the USA is just that. So, a serial killer doesn’t need to be the type driven by voices in his head or an uncontrollable urge to kill again and again. But he can be. I say “he” because serial killers are, with few exceptions, men. The question is whether what we’re looking at can be that type of serial killer.’