Harry led Beate and her two assistants down the stairs to the basement where the caretaker unlocked the door to the refuse room. One of the assistants was new, a girl whose name Harry retained for no more than three seconds.
'Up there,' Harry said. The other three, wearing something that looked like a white beekeeper's outfit, stepped forward with care to stand beneath the chute opening, and the beams from their head lamps disappeared up into the dark. Harry studied the new assistant, waited for the reaction on her face. When it came it reminded Harry of the coral life that instantly retracts when touched by divers' fingers. Beate gave an imperceptible nod of the head, like a plumber's dispassionate assessment of moderate to severe frost damage.
'Enucleation,' she said. Her voice resounded in the chute. 'Have you got that, Margaret?'
The female assistant was breathing hard as she groped for a pen and notebook inside the beekeeper costume.
'I beg your pardon,' Harry said.
'The left eyeball has been removed. Margaret?'
'Got it,' the assistant said, taking notes.
'The woman's hanging down head first. Stuck in the chute, I suppose. There's a little blood dripping from the eye socket and inside I can see some areas of white which must be the inner cranium showing through the tissue. Dark red blood, so it's a while since it coagulated. The pathologist will check temperature and rigidity when he comes. Too quick?'
'No, that's fine,' Margaret said.
'We've found traces of blood by the chute door on the third floor, the same floor where the eye was found, so I assume the body was pushed in there. It's a tight opening and from here it looks as if the right shoulder has been dislocated. That may have happened when she was forced in or when her fall was broken. It's hard to know from this angle, but I think I can see bruising on the neck, which would suggest that she was strangled. The pathologist will check the shoulder and determine the cause of death. Otherwise there's not a lot we can do here. It's all yours, Gilberg.'
Beate stepped aside and the male assistant took several flash shots of the chute.
'What's the yellowish-white stuff in the eye socket?' he asked.
'Fat,' Beate said. 'Clear the container and look for things that may be from the victim or the killer. Afterwards you'll get some help from the officers outside to pull her down. Margaret, you come with me.'
They went into the corridor and Margaret went to the lift door and pressed the button.
'We're taking the stairs,' Beate said in a light tone. Margaret regarded her with surprise and then followed her two older colleagues.
'Three more of my people will be here soon,' Beate said in answer to Harry's unspoken question. Although Harry with his long legs was taking two steps at a time, the small woman kept up with ease. 'Witnesses?'
'None so far,' Harry said. 'But we're doing the rounds. Three officers are ringing all the flats in the block. And after that the neighbouring blocks.'
'Have they got a photo of Stankic?'
Harry sent her a glance to see whether she was being ironic. It was difficult to say.
'What was your first impression?' Harry asked.
'A man,' Beate said.
'Because whoever it was must have been strong to push her through the chute opening?'
'Maybe.'
'Anything else?'
'Harry, are we in any doubt as to who this was?' she sighed.
'Yes, Beate, we are. As a matter of principle we profess doubt until we know.'
Harry turned to Margaret, who was already out of breath from following them. 'And your first impression?'
'What?'
They turned into the corridor on the third floor. A corpulent man in a tweed suit under an open tweed coat was standing in front of the door to Jon Karlsen's flat. He had obviously been waiting for them.
'I was wondering what you felt when you entered the building,' Harry said. 'And looked up into the chute.'
'Felt?' Margaret asked with a puzzled smile.
'Yes, felt!' Stale Aune bellowed, proffering a hand which Harry shook without hesitation. 'Come along and learn, folks, for this is the famous gospel according to Hole. Before entering a crime scene empty your mind of all thoughts, become a newly born child, without language, open yourself to the sacred first impression, the vital first seconds which are your great, and only, chance to behold what happened without an ounce of a fact. It almost sounds like exorcism, doesn't it? Smart suit, Beate. And who is your charming colleague?'
'This is Margaret Svendsen.'
'Stale Aune,' the man said, seizing Margaret's begloved hand and kissing it. 'Goodness me, you taste of rubber, my dear.'
'Aune is a psychologist,' Beate said. 'He often helps us.'
'He often tries to help you,' Aune said. 'Psychology is, I'm afraid to say, a science that is still in its rompers and should not be accorded too much value for another fifty to a hundred years. And what is your response to Detective Inspector Hole's question, my dear?'
Margaret looked to Beate for help.
'I… don't know,' she said. 'The eye was a bit off-putting, of course.'
Harry unlocked the door.
'You know I can't stand the sight of blood,' Aune warned.
'Think of it as a glass eye,' Harry said, opening the door and stepping to the side. 'Walk on the plastic and don't touch anything.'
Aune trod with care on the path of black plastic traversing the floor. He crouched down beside the eye, which still lay in the pile of dust next to the vacuum cleaner but which now had a grey film over it.
'Apparently it's called enucleation,' Harry said.
Aune raised one eyebrow. 'Performed with a vacuum cleaner to the eye?'
'You can't suck an eye out of the head with just a vacuum cleaner,' Harry said. 'The perp must have sucked it out far enough for him to get a couple of fingers inside. Muscles and optic nerves are solid matter.'
'What you don't know, Harry.'
'I once arrested a woman who had drowned her child in the bath. While she was in custody she tore out one of her eyes. The doctor acquainted me with the technique.'
They heard a sharp intake of breath from Margaret behind them.
'Removing an eye does not have to be fatal,' Harry said. 'Beate thinks the woman may have been strangled. What's your first thought?'
'It goes without saying that this act has been committed by a person in a state of emotional or rational disequilibrium,' Aune said. 'The mutilation suggests uncontrolled anger. There may of course be practical reasons for the perpetrator to choose to dispatch the body down the chute…'
'Unlikely,' Harry said. 'If the intention was that the body should not be found for a while, it would have been smarter to leave it in the empty flat.'
'In that case to some extent this kind of thing tends to be a conscious symbolic act.'
'Hm. Remove an eye and treat the rest as rubbish?'
'Yes.'
Harry looked at Beate. 'It doesn't sound like the work of a professional killer.'
Aune shrugged. 'It could well be an angry professional killer.'
'In general pros have a method they rely on. Christo Stankic's method so far has been to shoot his victims.'
'He may have a wider repertoire,' Beate said. 'Or perhaps the victim surprised him while he was in the flat.'
'Perhaps he didn't want to shoot because it would have alerted the neighbours,' Margaret said.
The other three faced her.
She flashed an intimidated smile. 'I mean… perhaps he needed time and peace and quiet. Perhaps he was searching for something.'
Harry noticed that all of a sudden Beate had begun to breathe hard through her nose and was even paler than usual.
'How does that sound?' he asked, addressing Aune.
'Like psychology,' Aune said. 'A mass of questions. And hypotheses by way of a response.'