24
IT STARTED TO rain at about five, and when Harry rang the bell of the large house at six it was as dark as a Christmas night in Høyenhall. The house bore all the signs of being newly built; there were still the remains of building materials stacked beside the garage, and under the steps he saw paint pots and insulation packaging.
Harry saw a figure move behind the decorative bevelled glass and felt the hairs rising on the back of his neck.
Then the door opened, quick, fierce, the movements of a man who has nothing to fear from anyone. Nevertheless, he stiffened when he saw Harry.
‘Evening, Bellman,’ Harry said.
‘Harry Hole. Well, I must say.’
‘Say what?’
Bellman chuckled. ‘It’s a surprise to see you here at my door. How did you find out where I live?’
‘Everyone knows the monkey, but the monkey knows no one. In most other countries the head of Organised Crime would have a bodyguard, did you know that? Am I interrupting anything?’
‘Not at all,’ Bellman said, scratching his chin. ‘I’m wondering whether to invite you in or not.’
‘Well,’ Harry said, ‘it’s wet out here. And I come in peace.’
‘You don’t know what the word means,’ Bellman said, pulling back the door. ‘Wipe your feet.’
Mikael Bellman led Harry through the hall, past the tower of cardboard boxes, a kitchen in which there were as yet no white goods, and into a living room. Not luxurious in the way he had seen some houses in Oslo West, but solid and spacious enough for a family. The view of Kværner Valley, Oslo Central Station and the city centre was fantastic. Harry noticed that.
‘The plot cost nearly as much as the house,’ Bellman said. ‘You’ll have to excuse the mess. We’ve just moved in. We’re having a housewarming party next week.’
‘And you forgot to ask me?’ Harry said, taking off his wet jacket.
Bellman smiled. ‘I can offer you a drink now. What about—’
‘I don’t drink,’ Harry smiled back.
‘Oh, damn,’ Bellman said without any sign of remorse, ‘one forgets so quickly. See if you can a find a chair somewhere, and I’ll see if I can find a coffee pot and two cups.’
Ten minutes later they were sitting by the windows overlooking the terrace and the view. Harry got straight down to business. Mikael Bellman listened without interrupting, even when Harry could see disbelief in his eyes. When Harry had finished Bellman summed up.
‘So you think that the pilot, Tord Schultz, was trying to smuggle violin out of the country. He was arrested, but released after a burner carrying police ID had exchanged the violin for potato flour. And that Schultz was executed in his home after release, probably because his employer had discovered that he’d visited the police and was scared he would tell what he knew.’
‘Mm.’
‘And you support your claim that he had been to Police HQ with the fact that he had a visitor’s pass with Oslo Politidistrikt written on?’
‘I compared it with the pass I got when I visited Hagen. The print on the bar of the ‘H’s is faint on both. Definitely the same printer.’
‘I won’t ask you how you got hold of Schultz’s visitor’s pass, but how can you be so certain that this was not a normal visit? Perhaps he wanted to explain the potato flour, make sure we believed him.’
‘Because his name has been deleted from the visitors’ book. It was important that this visit was kept secret.’
Mikael Bellman sighed. ‘It’s what I’ve always thought, Harry. We should have worked with each other, not against each other. You would have liked Kripos.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Before I say anything else, I have a favour to ask you. Please keep quiet about what I’m going to tell you.’
‘OK.’
‘This case has already put me in an embarrassing situation. It was me Schultz visited. And, you’re quite right, he did want to tell me what he knew. Among other things he told me what I had long suspected: that we have a burner among us. Someone, I believe, who works at HQ, close to Orgkrim cases. I told him to wait at home while I spoke to my superior. I had to tread warily so as not to alarm the burner. But caution often means things move slowly. I spoke to the retiring Chief of Police, but he left it to me to find a way to tackle this.’
‘Why?’
‘As I said, he is retiring. He has no wish to have a case involving a corrupt police officer as a parting gift.’
‘So he wanted to keep it under wraps until he was gone?’
Bellman stared into his coffee cup. ‘It’s very likely that I will be the new Chief of Police, Harry.’