The Redbreast(104)

it with my bayonet so that those who find it will

know what to do.

Your beloved Uriah.

Part Five

SEVEN DAYS

52

Jens Bjelkes Gate. 12 March 2000.

‘HI, THIS IS ELLEN AND HELGE’S ANSWERPHONE.

PLEASE leave a message.’

‘Hi Ellen, this is Harry. As you can hear, I’ve

been drinking and I apologise. Really. But if I

were sober, I probably wouldn’t be phoning you

now. You know that, I’m sure. I went to the crime

scene today. You were lying on your back in the

snow by a path along the Akerselva. You were

found by a young couple on the way to a dance at

the Blå just after midnight. Cause of death: serious

injuries to the front part of the brain as a result of

violent blows from a blunt instrument. You had

also been hit on the back of the head and received

three fractures to the cranium as well as a smashed

left kneecap and signs of a blow to the right

shoulder. We assume that it was the same

instrument which caused all the injuries. Doctor

Blix puts the time of death between eleven and

twelve at night.You seemed . . . I . . . Wait a

moment.

‘Sorry. Right. The Crime Scene Unit found

around twenty different types of boot print in the

snow on the path and a couple in the snow beside

you, but the latter had been kicked to pieces,

possibly with the intention of removing clues. No

witnesses have come forward so far, but we’re

doing the usual rounds of the neighbourhood.

Several houses overlook the path, so Kripos think

there’s a chance that someone saw something.

Personally, I think the chances are negligible. You

see, there was a repeat of The Robinson

Expedition on Swedish TV between 11.15 and

12.15. Joke. I’m trying to be funny, can you hear

that? Oh, yes, we found a black cap a few metres

away from where you were lying. There were

bloodstains on it. If it is your blood, the cap may,

ergo, belong to the murderer. We’ve sent the blood

for analysis, and the cap is at the forensics lab

where they are checking it for hair and skin

particles. If the guy isn’t losing hair, I hope he’s

got dandruff. Ha, ha. You haven’t forgotten Ekman

and Friesen, have you? I haven’t got any more

clues for you yet, but let me know if you come up

with anything. Was there anything else? Yes, there

was. Helge has found a new home with me. I know

this is a change for the worse, but it is for all of us,

Ellen. With the possible exception of you. Now

I’m going to have another drink and reflect on

precisely that.’

53

Jens Bjelkes Gate. 13 March 2000.

‘HI, THIS IS ELLEN AND HELGE’S ANSWERPHONE.

PLEASE leave a message.’

‘Hi, this is Harry again. I didn’t go to work today,

but at any rate I called Doctor Blix. I’m happy to

be able to tell you that you were not sexually

assaulted and that, as far as we’ve been able to

establish, all your earthly goods were untouched.

This means that we do not have a motive, although

there can be reasons for him not completing what

he had set out to do. Or why he couldn’t bring

himself to do it. Today two witnesses reported

seeing you outside Fru Hagen. A payment from

your card was registered at 22.55 at the 7-Eleven

in Markveien. Your pal Kim has been at the station

for questioning all day. He said you were on your

way up to his and he had asked you to buy some

cigarettes for him. One of the Kripos guys got hung

up on the fact that you had bought a different brand

from those your friend smokes. On top of that, your

pal has no alibi. I’m sorry, Ellen, but at the moment

he’s their main suspect.

‘By the way, I’ve just had a visitor. She’s called

Rakel and works for POT. She popped up to see

how I was, she said. She sat here for a while,

although we didn’t say much. Then she left. I don’t

think it went very well.

‘Helge says hello.’

54

Jens Bjelkes Gate. 14 March 2000.

‘HI, THIS IS ELLEN AND HELGE’S ANSWERPHONE.

PLEASE leave a message.’

‘It’s the coldest March in living memory. The

thermometer reads minus eighteen and the

windows in this block are from the turn of the

century. The popular notion that you don’t freeze

when you’re drunk is a total fallacy. Ali, my

neighbour, knocked on the door this morning. It

turns out I had a nasty fall down the stairs coming

home yesterday and he helped me to bed.

‘It must have been lunchtime before I got to work

because the canteen was full of people when I

went to get my morning cup of coffee. I had the

impression they were staring at me, but perhaps I

was imagining it. I miss you terribly, Ellen.

‘I checked your friend’s record. I saw he had