‘Drinking other people’s blood is an ancient tradition with connotations of assuming the powers and abilities of other people, usually enemies, isn’t it?’
‘Agreed.’
‘If you’re going to put together a profile of this serial killer, Smith, I’d suggest taking as your starting point a person who is driven by a need for control, like we see in more conventional rapists and sexually motivated murderers. Or, to be more accurate, regaining control, reclaiming a power that was taken from him at some point. Restitution.’
‘Thanks,’ Smith said. ‘Restitution. I agree, I’ll definitely include that aspect.’
‘What does “restitution” mean?’ Katrine asked, who was sitting on the windowsill after being granted leave to stay by the two psychologists.
‘We all want to repair injuries inflicted on us,’ Aune said. ‘Or take revenge, which is much the same thing. I, for instance, decided to become the genius psychologist I am because I was so bad at playing football that no one ever wanted me on their team. Harry was just a boy when his mother died, and he decided to become a murder detective to punish people who take lives.’
There was a knock on the door frame.
‘Speak of the devil …’ Aune said.
‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Harry said. ‘But Aurora’s run off. I don’t know what happened, but it was definitely something.’
A cloud swept across Ståle Aune’s face and he heaved himself up from the chair with a groan. ‘God knows with teenagers. I’ll go and find her. This was a bit brief, Smith – give me a call and we’ll carry on.’
‘Anything new?’ Harry asked when Aune had gone.
‘Yes and no,’ Katrine said. ‘The Forensic Medical Institute has confirmed that there’s a hundred per cent match between the DNA found on the handcuffs and Gjertsen. Only one psychologist and two sexologists have contacted us after Smith’s plea to check their patient records, but the names they gave us have already been dismissed from the investigation. And, as expected, we’ve received several hundred calls from people reporting anything from scary neighbours and dogs with bite marks on them, to vampires, werewolves, gnomes and trolls. But also a few that are worth checking out. By the way, Rakel has been calling, trying to get hold of you.’
‘Yes, I just saw the missed calls. There’s not much of a signal down in our bunker. Would it be possible to do anything about that?’
‘I’ll ask Tord if we could set up a relay or something. So can I have my office back now?’
Harry and Smith were alone in the lift.
‘You’re avoiding eye contact,’ Smith said.
‘That’s the rule in lifts, isn’t it?’ Harry said.
‘I meant generally.’
‘If not making eye contact is the same as avoiding it, you’re probably right.’
‘And you don’t like lifts.’
‘Mm. Is it that obvious?’
‘Body language doesn’t lie. And you think I talk too much.’
‘This is your first day, you’re bound to be a bit nervous.’
‘No, I’m like this most of the time.’
‘OK. By the way, I haven’t thanked you for changing your mind.’
‘Don’t mention it. I should be apologising for the fact that my initial response was so selfish when people’s lives are at stake.’
‘I can understand that your doctorate means a lot to you.’
Smith smiled. ‘Yes, you understand because you’re one of us.’
‘One of who?’
‘The half-crazy elite. Maybe you’ve heard of the Goldman Dilemma from the 1980s? Elite athletes were asked if they’d be prepared to take a drug that would guarantee a gold medal, but they’d die five years later. More than half answered yes. When the rest of the population were asked the same question, only two out of 250 said yes. I know it sounds sick to most people, but not to people like you and me, Harry. Because you’d sacrifice your life to catch this murderer, wouldn’t you?’
Harry looked at the psychologist for a long while. Heard the echo of Ståle’s words. Because you understand the idea of the monkey trap: you can never give up either.
‘Anything else you’re wondering about, Smith?’
‘Yes. Has she put on weight?’
‘Who?’
‘Ståle’s daughter.’
‘Aurora?’ Harry raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, she probably used to be thinner.’
Smith nodded. ‘You’re not going to like my next question, Harry.’
‘We’ll see.’
‘Do you think Ståle Aune might have an incestuous relationship with his daughter?’
Harry stared at Smith. He had picked him because he wanted people who were prepared to think original thoughts, and as long as Smith came up with the goods Harry was prepared to tolerate almost anything. Almost anything.
‘OK,’ Harry said in a low voice. ‘You’ve got twenty seconds to explain yourself. Use them wisely.’
‘I’m just saying that—’
‘Eighteen.’
‘OK, OK. Self-harming behaviour. She was wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt that hid the scars on her lower arms which she kept scratching the whole time. Hygiene. When you stood close to her you could tell that her personal hygiene wasn’t great. Eating. Extreme eating or dieting is typical in abuse victims. Mental state. She seemed depressed generally, may be suffering from angst. I realise that the clothes and make-up can be misleading, but body language and facial expressions don’t lie. Intimacy. I could see in your body language that you were open to the idea of a hug in the boiler room. But she pretended not to notice, that was why she’d pulled her hair in front of her face before she came in – you know each other well, you’ve hugged each other before, so she predicted what would happen. Abuse victims avoid intimacy and bodily contact. Is my time up?’
The lift stopped with a jolt.
Harry took a step forward, so that he towered over Smith, and pressed the button to keep the lift doors closed. ‘Let’s assume for a moment that you’re right, Smith.’ Harry lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘What the hell has that got to do with Ståle? Apart from the fact that back in the day he got you kicked off your psychology degree in Oslo and landed you with the nickname “the Monkey”.’
Harry saw tears of pain in Smith’s eyes, as if he’d been slapped. Smith blinked and swallowed. ‘Oh. You’re probably right, Harry. I’m just seeing something I subconsciously want to see because I’m still angry. It was a hunch, and like I said, I’m not good at them.’
Harry nodded slowly. ‘And you know that, so this wasn’t your first hunch. What did you see?’
Hallstein Smith straightened up. ‘I saw a father holding his daughter’s hand when she’s what, sixteen, seventeen years old? And my first thought is that it’s sweet that they’re still doing that, that I hope my daughters and I will still be holding hands well into their teenage years.’
‘But?’
‘But you can look at it from the other side, that the father is exerting power and control by holding on to her, keeping her in her place.’
‘And what makes you think that?’
‘Because she runs off the moment she gets the chance. I’ve worked on cases where there are suspicions of incest, Harry, and running away from home is precisely one of the things we look at. The symptoms I mentioned can mean a thousand other things, but if there’s one chance in a thousand that she’s being abused at home, it would be a dereliction of my professional duty not to share my thoughts, don’t you think? I understand that you’re a friend of the family, but that’s also the reason I’m sharing these thoughts with you. You’re the only person who can talk to her.’
Harry let go of the button, the doors slid open and Hallstein Smith slipped out.
Harry waited until the doors started to close again, stuck one foot between them and was going after Smith, down the stairs towards the culvert, when his phone buzzed in his pocket.