been given a short sentence for possession of hash.
Kripos still think he’s the one. I’ve never met him
and, God knows, I’m no judge of character, but
from what you told me about him, he doesn’t strike
me as the type. Do you agree? I rang Forensics and
they said they hadn’t found a single hair on the cap,
just some skin particles. They’re sending it off for
a DNA test and reckon the results will be back
within four weeks. Do you know how many hairs
an adult loses every single day? I checked.
Approximately 150. And not one strand of hair on
that cap. Afterwards, I went down to Møller and
asked him to get a list drawn up of all the men who
have been sentenced for GBH over the last four
years and at present have shaven heads.
‘Rakel came to my office with a book: Our Small
Birds. Strange book. Do you think Helge likes
millet cobs? Take care.’
55
Jens Bjelkes Gate. 15 March 2000.
‘HI, THIS IS ELLEN AND HELGE’S ANSWERPHONE.
PLEASE leave a message.’
‘They buried you today. I wasn’t there. Your
parents deserved a dignified commemorative
service and I wasn’t particularly presentable
today, so instead I thought of you at Schrøder’s. At
eight o’clock last night I got in the car and drove
up to Holmenkollveien. It wasn’t a good idea.
Rakel had a visitor, the same guy I’ve seen there
before. He introduced himself as something or
other from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and
gave the impression he was on business there. I
think he was called Brandhaug. Rakel didn’t seem
very pleased to receive his visit, but then again
perhaps that’s just me. So I beat a hasty retreat
before it became too embarrassing. Rakel insisted
I should take a taxi. But, looking out of the window
now, I can see the Escort parked in the street, so I
can’t have followed her advice.
‘Things are, as you know, a little chaotic right
now. But at least I went to the pet shop and bought
some bird seed. The lady behind the counter
suggested Trill, so that’s what I took.’
56
Jens Bjelkes Gate. 16 March 2000.
‘HI, THIS IS ELLEN AND HELGE’S ANSWERPHONE.
PLEASE leave a message.’
‘I went for a walk to Ryktet today. It’s a bit like
Schrøder’s. At least they don’t give you a funny
look when you order a Pils for breakfast. I sat
down at a table with an old man and after a
struggle managed to get some sort of conversation
off the ground. I asked him what he had against
Even Juul. He gave me a long, searching look; it
was obvious he didn’t recognise me from the
previous time I had been there. But after buying
him a beer I got the whole story. The old boy had
fought at the Eastern Front – I had already guessed
that – and he knew Juul’s wife, Signe, from when
she was a nurse there. She had volunteered
because she was engaged to one of the soldiers in
the Norge regiment. Juul clapped eyes on her when
she was found guilty of treason in 1945. She was
given two years, but Juul’s father, who had a high
position in the Socialist Party, arranged for her to
be released after only a few months. When I asked
the old boy why that bothered him so much, he
mumbled that Juul wasn’t the saint he appeared to
be. That was precisely the word he used – “saint”.
He said that Juul was like all the other historians –
he wrote myths about Norway during the war in the
way the victors wanted them presented. The man
couldn’t remember the name of her first fiancé,
only that he had been a kind of hero to the others in
the regiment.
‘Afterwards I went to work. Kurt Meirik dropped
by to see me. He didn’t say anything. I called
Bjarne Møller, and he informed me that there were
thirty-four names on the list I had requested. Are
men with no hair more prone to violence, I
wonder? Anyway, Møller has put an officer on the
case to ring round and check the alibis to get the
number down. I can see from the preliminary
report that Tom Waaler drove you home and that
when he dropped you off at 22.15 you were in a
calm frame of mind. He also testifed that you had
talked about trivialities. Nevertheless, when you
left me a message, at 22.16 according to Telenor –
in other words as soon as you had got in the door –
you were obviously pretty excited that you were on
the track of something. I think that’s odd. Bjarne
Møller didn’t think so. Perhaps it’s just me.
‘Get in touch with me soon, Ellen.’
57
Jens Bjelkes Gate. 17 March 2000.
‘HI, THIS IS ELLEN AND HELGE’S ANSWERPHONE.