The Redbreast(135)

. . . ?’

‘It doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with

the murder of your husband,’ Harry said, getting

up. ‘There are lots of strange people at

Schrøder’s.’

She accompanied them to the front steps. It was a

grey afternoon outside with low-lying clouds

sweeping across the hill behind them.

Fru Brandhaug stood with her arms crossed, as if

she were freezing cold.

‘It’s so dark here,’ she said. ‘Have you noticed

that?’

The Crime Scene Unit was still busy combing the

area around the bivouac where they had found the

cartridge when Harry and Halvorsen approached

from across the heath.

‘Hey, you there!’ they heard a voice shout as they

ducked under the yellow police tape.

‘Police,’ Harry answered.

‘Makes no difference!’ the same voice shouted

back. ‘You’ll have to wait until we’ve finished.’

It was Weber. He was wearing high rubber boots

and a comical yellow raincoat. Harry and

Halvorsen ducked back under the tape.

‘Hey, Weber,’ Harry shouted.

‘Got no time,’ he answered with a dismissive

wave.

‘It’ll take one minute.’

Weber went closer with long strides and an

obviously irritated expression on his face.

‘What do you want?’ he yelled from a distance of

twenty metres.

‘How long had he been waiting?’

‘The bloke up here? No idea.’

‘Come on Weber. A guess.’

‘Who’s working on this case? Kripos or you?’

‘Both. We haven’t co-ordinated yet.’

‘And are you trying to kid me you’re going to?’

Harry smiled and took out a cigarette.

‘You’ve come up with some good guesses before,

Weber.’

‘Cut out the flattery, Hole. Who’s the lad?’

‘Halvorsen,’ Harry said before Halvorsen had a

chance to introduce himself.

‘Listen to me, Halvorsen,’ Weber said, regarding

Harry with a disgust he made no attempt to

disguise. ‘Smoking is a revolting habit and the

ultimate proof that humans are here on earth for

one thing only – enjoyment. The bloke who was

here left eight dog-ends in a half-full pop bottle.

Teddy cigarettes, no filter. And Teddy smokers are

not content with two a day, so unless he ran out, by

my reckoning he was here for twenty-four hours at

most. He had cut sprigs of spruce down from the

lowest branches which the rain couldn’t get at. But

there were drops of rain on the spruce covering the

bivouac. The last time it rained was three o’clock

yesterday afternoon.’

‘So he was lying here from somewhere between

eight a.m. and three p.m. yesterday?’ Halvorsen

asked.

‘I think Halvorsen could go far,’ Weber said

laconically, with his eyes still on Harry.

‘Especially considering the competition he’ll have

in the force. It’s getting bloody worse and worse.

Have you seen what they’re recruiting at the police

college now? Even the teacher training colleges

are getting geniuses in comparison with the rubbish

we get.’

All of a sudden it seemed that Weber wasn’t in a

hurry after all and he set off on a long diatribe

about the gloomy prospects for the police force.

‘Did anyone living nearby see anything?’ Harry

quickly asked as Weber paused to draw breath.

‘We’ve got four men doing house to house now,

but most of the people won’t be back till later.

They won’t dig up anything.’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t think he showed himself round here.

Earlier today we had a dog following his footsteps

for about a kilometre into the forest, to one of the

paths. But we lost him there. I would guess he took

the same route here and back, following the

network of paths between Sognsvann and Lake

Maridal. He could have parked a car in at least a

dozen car parks for walkers in this area. And there

are thousands of them using the paths every day, at

least half of them with a rucksack. You see?’

‘We see.’

‘And now you’re probably going to ask me if

there are any fingerprints.’

‘Well . . .’

‘Come on.’

‘What about the bottle of pop?’

Weber shook his head.

‘No prints. Nothing. Considering how long he

was here, he has left surprisingly few traces. We’ll

keep searching, but I’m pretty positive that the shoe

print and a few fibres from his clothing are all

we’ll find.’

‘Plus the cartridge.’

‘He left that on purpose. Everything else has been

removed a little too thoroughly.’