The Leopard(79)
‘What were you doing at a potential crime scene? Why wasn’t Bjørn there?’
‘Because Bellman assigned Bjørn to special duties.’
‘And what does that mean? Cleaning the latrines?’
‘No. Coordination of Krimteknisk and strategic planning.’
‘What?’ Harry raised his eyebrows. ‘That’s a bloody promotion.’
Beate shrugged. ‘Bjørn’s good. It wasn’t before time. Anything else?’
‘No.’
‘Bye.’
‘Bye. Oh, by the way, just a moment. I asked you to tell Bellman where we’d found the rope. When did you pass the message on?’
‘You rang me at night, remember, so I waited until the following morning. Why’s that?’
‘No reason,’ Harry said. ‘No reason.’
When he got back into the car, Kaja quickly slipped her phone into her pocket.
‘News of the body’s already on the Aftenposten website,’ she said.
‘Oh yes?’
‘They say there’s a big pic of you with your full name and that you’re referred to as “heading the investigation”. And of course they’re linking this case with the other murders.’
‘So, that’s what they’re doing. Mm. Are you hungry?’
‘Quite.’
‘Have you got any plans? If not I’ll treat you to a meal.’
‘Great. Where?’
‘Ekeberg restaurant.’
‘Ooh. Exclusive. Any particular reason you chose that one?’
‘Well, it came to mind when a pal of mine was recounting an old story.’
‘Tell me.’
‘There’s nothing to tell, it’s just the usual adolescence thi—’
‘Adolescence! Come on!’
Harry chuckled. And as they approached the city centre and it started snowing at the top of Ekeberg Ridge, Harry told her about Killer Queen, the darling of Ekeberg restaurant, once the most attractive functionalist building in Oslo. Which today – post renovation – it is again.
‘But in the eighties it was so run-down that people had actually given up on the place. It had become a boozy dance restaurant where you went to tables and asked for the pleasure, trying not to knock over the glasses. And then shuffled round the floor propping each other up.’
‘I see.’
‘Øystein, Tresko and I used to go to the top of the German bunkers on Nordstrand beach, drink beer and wait for puberty to pass. When we were seventeen we ventured over to the restaurant, lied about our ages and went in. You didn’t have to lie much – the place needed all the cash it could get. The dance band stank, but at least they played “Nights in White Satin”. And they had a star attraction who guested almost every night. We called her Killer Queen. A female man-o’-war, she was.’
‘A man-o’-war?’ Kaja laughed. ‘Set your cap at?’
‘Yup,’ Harry said. ‘Bore down on you like a galleon in full rig, mean, sexy and dead scary. Equipped like a fairground. Curves on her like a roller coaster.’
Kaja laughed even louder. ‘The local fun-fair, no less?’
‘In a way,’ Harry said. ‘But she went to Ekeberg restaurant pri marily to be seen and adored, I think. And for the free drinks from faded dance-floor kings, of course. No one ever saw Killer Queen go home with any of them. Perhaps that was what fascinated us. A woman who’d had to go down a league or two for admirers, but in a way still had style.’
‘And then what?’
‘Øystein and Tresko said they would each buy me a whiskey if I dared ask her to dance.’
They crossed the tramlines and drove up the steep hill to the restaurant.
‘And?’ Kaja said.
‘I dared.’
‘And then?’
‘We danced. Until she said she was sick of having her feet trodden on and it would be better if we went for a walk. She left first. It was August, hot, and, as you can see, there’s only forest round here. Thick foliage and loads of paths to hidden places. I was drunk, but still so excited that I knew she would be able to hear the tremor in my voice if I said anything. So I kept my trap shut. And that was fine, she did all the talking. And the rest, too. Afterwards she asked me if I wanted to go home with her.’
Kaja sniggered. ‘Oooh. And what happened there?’
‘We can talk about that during the meal. We’re here.’
They came to a halt in the car park, got out and walked up the steps to the restaurant. The head waiter welcomed them at the entrance to the dining area and asked for the name. Harry answered that they hadn’t reserved a table.
The waiter could barely restrain himself from rolling his eyes.