Nemesis

'I doubt they are still there. According to Astrid Monsen, he suddenly stopped seeing Anna a year ago. Until one Sunday last month. He came to pick her up in his car. Monsen remembers it clearly because Anna rang at her door and asked her to keep an ear open for burglars.'

'And you think they went to the chalet?'

'I think,' Harry said, throwing the smoking cigarette end into a puddle where it hissed and died, 'that's one reason Anna put the photograph in her shoe. Can you remember what you learned about forensics at Police College?'

'The little we had. Don't you?'

'No. There are metal cases with the basic equipment in three of the patrol cars. Powder, brush and plastic film for fingerprints. Measuring tape, torch, pliers, that sort of thing. I want you to book one of the cars for tomorrow.'

'Harry-'

'And call the grocer in advance to get precise directions. Try to sound honest and upright so that he doesn't suspect anything. Say you're building a chalet and the architect you're working with gave Albu's chalet as a reference point. You just want to see it.'

'Harry, we can't just-'

'Bring a crowbar, too.'

'Listen to me!'

Halvorsen's shout caused two gulls to take off for the fjord with hoarse screams. He counted on his fingers: 'We don't have a warrant. We don't have any proof which might justify one. We've got…nothing. And most important of all we-or should I say I?-don't have all the facts. You haven't told me everything, have you, Harry?'

'What makes you think-?'

'Simple. Your motive isn't strong enough. Knowing the woman is not a good enough motive for suddenly disregarding all the rules, breaking into chalets and risking your job. And mine. I know you can be a bit nuts, Harry, but you're no fool.'

'Harry watched the wet dog-end floating in the puddle. 'How long have we known each other, Halvorsen?'

'Soon be two years.'

'Have I ever lied to you in that time?'

'Two years isn't a long time.'

'Have I ever lied? I'm asking you.'

'Definitely.'

'Have I ever lied about anything that counts?'

'Not as far as I know.'

'OK. I'm not lying to you now, either. You're right, I haven't told you everything. And, yes, you're risking your job by helping me. All I can say is you would be in even more trouble if I told you the rest. As it is, you'll have to trust me. Or back out. You can still refuse.'

They sat looking across the fjord. The gulls were two small dots in the distance.

'What would you have done?' Halvorsen said.

'Backed out.'

The dots became bigger. The gulls were coming back.

***

When they returned to Police HQ there was a message from Mшller on the answerphone.

'Let's go for a walk,' he said when Harry called. 'Anywhere at all,' Mшller added when they were outside.

'Elmer's,' Harry said. 'I need some smokes.'

Mшller followed Harry down a muddy track across the grass between Police HQ and the cobbled drive up to Botsen prison. Harry had observed that planners never seemed to appreciate that people will always find the quickest route between two points irrespective of where the road is. At the end of the track was a sign which had been kicked over: DON'T WALK ON THE GRASS.

'Have you heard about the bank robbery in Grшnlandsleiret early this morning?' Mшller asked.

Harry nodded. 'Interesting that he chose to do it a hundred metres from the police station.'

'Coincidentally, the bank alarm was being repaired.'

'I don't believe in coincidences,' Harry said.

'Oh? You think it was an inside job?'

Harry shrugged. 'Or someone knew about the repairs.'

'Only the bank and the repairers knew. And us.'

'It wasn't the bank raid you wanted to talk about, was it, boss?'

'No,' Mшller said, skipping around a puddle. 'The Chief Superintendent has been in discussion with the Mayor. All these robberies are bothering him.'

On the path, they stopped for a woman with three children in tow. She was telling them off in an angry, drained voice, and avoided Harry's eyes. It was visiting time at Botsen.

'Ivarsson is efficient. No one doubts that,' Mшller said. 'However, this Expeditor seems to be of a different calibre from what we're used to. The Chief Superintendent thinks that conventional methods may not be enough this time.'

'Perhaps not, but then what? One "two" more or less is no scandal.'

'A "two"?'

'Away team wins. Unsolved case. Standard vernacular now, boss.'

'There's more at stake than that, Harry. The media have been on our backs all day, it's been a nightmare. They're calling him the new Martin Pedersen. And on the website of Verdens Gang it says they have found out we call him the Expeditor.'

'Always the same old story,' Harry said, crossing the road on red with a circumspect Mшller at his heels. 'The media determine what we prioritise.'

'Well, he did murder someone after all.'

'And murders which are no longer in the public eye are dropped.'

'No!' Mшller snapped. 'We're not starting all that again.'

Harry shrugged and stepped over a newspaper stand which had been blown down. In the street a newspaper was flicking through its own pages at a furious tempo.

'So what do you want?'

'The Chief is, naturally enough, preoccupied with the PR side of things. An isolated bank raid is forgotten by the general public long before the case is dropped. No one notices that the man hasn't been caught. On this occasion, however, everyone's eyes are on us. And the more talk there is about raids of this kind, the more the public's curiosity is aroused. Martin Pedersen was a normal person who did what many dream about; he was a modern Jesse James escaping from the law. That sort of case creates myths, heroes, and people identify with it. Hence, further recruitment for the bank-robbing industry. The number of bank raids soared right across the country while the press were writing about Martin Pedersen.'

'You're frightened of this spreading. Fair enough. What's that got to do with me?'

'As I said, no one doubts Ivarsson's efficiency. No one doubts that. He is a correct, traditional policeman who never oversteps the line. The Expeditor, however, is no traditional bank robber. The Chief is not happy with the results so far.' Mшller nodded towards the prison. 'The episode with Raskol has reached his ears.'

'Mm.'

'I was in the Chief's office before lunch and your name was mentioned. Several times, in fact.'

'My God, should I feel honoured?'

'You are, at any rate, an investigator who has achieved results using unconventional methods.'

Harry's smile stretched into a sneer. 'A kind definition of a kamikaze pilot…'

'In a nutshell, the message is this, Harry. Drop everything else you're doing and tell me if you need more people. Ivarsson will continue with his team, but we're relying on you. And one more thing…' Mшller had stepped closer to Harry. 'You have a free rein. We're willing to accept that rules can be bent. In return, this must stay within the force, of course.'

'Mm. I think I understand. And if it doesn't?'

'We'll back you up as far as we're able, but there's a limit. That goes without saying.'

Elmer turned when the bells above the door rang and nodded towards the little portable radio he was standing in front of: 'And there was me thinking Kandahar was a skiing club. Twenty Camel?'

Harry assented. Elmer turned down the volume of the radio and the news commentator's voice joined the buzz of sounds outside-cars, the wind catching the awning, the leaves being swept along the tarmac.

'Anything for your colleague?' Elmer motioned towards the door where Mшller was standing.

'He'd like a kamikaze pilot,' Harry said, opening the packet.

'Really?'

'But he's forgotten to ask the price,' Harry said and could sense Mшller's sweetly sardonic smile without needing to turn.