The Redbreast(112)

‘How’s it going with the report on the neo-

Nazis?’ he asked as soon as he saw Harry in the

doorway.

‘Badly,’ Harry said, sinking into the chair. In the

picture above Meirik’s head the Norwegian King

and Queen peered down at him. ‘The E on my

keyboard has got stuck,’ Harry added.

Meirik forced a smile, much like the man in the

picture, and asked Harry to forget the report for the

time being.

‘I need you to do something else. The Chief

Information Officer from the trade union  s has just

called. Half the trade union   leaders have been

faxed death threats today. Signed 88, a short form

for Heil Hitler. It’s not the first time, but this time it’s been leaked to the press. They’ve already

started ringing us. We’ve managed to trace the

death threats to a public fax machine in Klippan.

That’s why we have to take the threat seriously.’

‘Klippan?’

‘A little place three miles east of Helsingborg.

Sixteen thousand inhabitants and the worst Nazi

nest in Sweden. You’ll find families there who

have been Nazis in unbroken lineage since the

thirties. Some Norwegian neo-Nazis go on

pilgrimages there to see and learn. I want you to

pack a big bag, Harry.’

Harry had an unpleasant premonition.

‘We’re sending you there to do some undercover

work, Harry. You have to infiltrate the local

network. Job, identity and other details we’ll sort

out for you bit by bit. Be prepared to stay there for

quite some time. Our Swedish colleagues have

already sorted out somewhere for you to live.’

‘Undercover work,’ Harry repeated. He could

hardly believe his ears. ‘I know diddle about

spying, Meirik. I’m a detective. Or had you

forgotten?’

Meirik’s smile had become dangerously thin.

‘You’ll learn fast, Harry. That’s not a problem.

Look upon it as an interesting, useful experience.’

‘Hm. For how long?’

‘A few months. Maximum six.’

‘Six?’ Harry yelled.

‘Be positive, Harry. You’ve got no family ties, no

—’

‘Who else is in the team?’

Meirik shook his head.

‘No team. You’re on your own. It seems more

plausible that way. And you report directly to me.’

Harry rubbed his chin.

‘Why me, Meirik? You have a whole department

of experts here on infiltration and the extreme

right.’

‘There’s always a first time.’

‘And what about the Märklin rifle? We’ve traced

it to an old Nazi and now there are these threats

signed Heil Hitler. Isn’t it better that I continue my work here . . . ?’

‘I have made up my mind, Harry.’ Meirik didn’t

bother to smile any more.

Something stank. Harry could smell it a long way

off, but he didn’t know what it was or where it was

coming from. He stood up and Meirik followed

suit.

‘You leave after the weekend,’ Meirik said. He

put out his hand.

It struck Harry that was an odd thing to do and the

same thought seemed to have crossed Meirik’s

mind at that moment too – there was self-

consciousness in his expression. But now it was

too late. The hand hung in the air, helpless, with

splayed fingers, and Harry quickly pressed flesh to

get the embarrassing situation over with.

As Harry passed Linda in reception, she shouted

that there was a fax for him in his pigeon-hole and

Harry nabbed it on his way past. It was

Halvorsen’s list. He ran his eye down the list of

names while trudging up the corridor trying to

work out which part of him would benefit from six

months’ socialising with neo-Nazis in some hole in

southern Sweden. Not the part of him that was

trying to stay sober. Not the part of him that was

waiting for Rakel’s response to his dinner

invitation. And definitely not the part trying to find

Ellen’s murderer. He stopped in his tracks.

The last name . . .

There was no reason for him to be surprised that

old acquaintances popped up on the list, but this

was quite different. This was the sound he heard

when he had cleaned his Smith & Wesson and then

put it together again. The smooth click that told him

everything fitted.

He was in his office and on the phone to

Halvorsen in seconds. Halvorsen noted down his

questions and promised to ring back as soon as he

had something.

Harry leaned back. He could hear his heart

beating. As a rule, this was not his forte, putting

together small pieces of information which didn’t

seem to have anything in common. Must have been

a moment of inspiration. When Halvorsen rang a