The Redbreast(143)

bobbing up and down, and for two long seconds

Harry allowed himself the luxury of relishing the

fear in the young lawyer’s eyes. Then Harry

dropped his business card on the desk.

‘Ring me when you’ve decided the extent of your

client confidentiality,’ he said.

Harry was half out of the door when Krohn’s

voice brought him to a halt.

‘He called me just before he died.’

Harry turned. Krohn sighed.

‘He was terrified of someone. Sverre Olsen was

always frightened. Lonely and very frightened.’

‘Who isn’t?’ Harry mumbled. Then, ‘Did he say

who he was frightened of ?’

‘The Prince. That was what he called him. The

Prince.’

‘Did Olsen say why he was frightened?’

‘No, he just said that this Prince was a kind of

superior and had ordered him to commit a crime.

So he wanted to know how far following orders

was a punishable offence. Poor idiot.’

‘What kind of orders?’

‘He didn’t say.’

‘Did he say anything else?’

Krohn shook his head.

‘Ring me any time at all if you think of anything

else.’

‘And one more thing, Inspector. If you believe

that I will lose any sleep over having the man who

killed your colleague acquitted, you are mistaken.’

But Harry had already left.

81

Herbert’s Pizza. 11 May 2000.

HARRY RANG HALVORSEN AND ASKED HIM TO GO TO

Herbert’s. They had the place almost to themselves

and chose a table by the window. Right in the

corner there was a man dressed in a long trench

coat, with a moustache that went out of fashion

with Adolf Hitler and two booted legs resting on a

chair seat. He looked as if he was trying to set a

new world record in being bored.

Halvorsen had caught up with Edvard Mosken,

but not in Drammen.

‘He didn’t answer when I tried him at home, so I

got hold of his mobile phone number through

directory enquiries. It turned out he was in Oslo.

He has a flat in Tromsøgata in Roddeløkka where

he stays when he’s at Bjerke.’

‘Bjerke?’

‘The racetrack. He must be there every Friday

and Saturday. Places a few bets and has a bit of

fun, he said. And he owns a quarter of a horse. I

met him in the stables behind the track.’

‘What else did he say?’

‘He occasionally pops into Schrøder’s in the

morning when he’s in Oslo. He has no idea who

Bernt Brandhaug is and he has definitely never

phoned his house. He knew who Signe Juul was –

he remembered her from the Eastern Front.’

‘What about his alibi?’

Halvorsen ordered a Hawaiian Tropic with

pepperoni and pineapple.

‘Mosken has been alone in his flat in Tromsøgata

all week, apart from trips up to Bjerke, he said. He

was there the morning Brandhaug was killed too.

And this morning.’

‘Right. How do you think he answered your

questions?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Did you believe him when you were with him?’

‘Yes, no; well, believe, hm . . .’

‘Go with your gut instinct, Halvorsen, don’t be

worried. And then say what you feel. I won’t use it

against you.’

Halvorsen looked down at the table and fidgeted

with the menu.

‘If Mosken is lying, then he’s definitely a pretty

cold fish. That much I can say.’

Harry sighed.

‘Will you see to it that we put a tag on Mosken? I

want two men outside his flat day and night.’

Halvorsen nodded and rang a number on his

mobile phone. Harry could hear the sound of

Møller’s voice as he stole a glance at the neo-Nazi

in the corner. Or whatever they called themselves.

National Socialists. National Democrats. He had

just been sent a copy of a sociology dissertation

from the university which concluded that there

were fifty-seven neo-Nazis in Norway.

The pizza arrived and Halvorsen sent Harry an

enquiring look.

‘Go ahead,’ Harry said. ‘Pizzas aren’t my thing.’

The trench coat in the corner had been joined by a

short, green combat jacket. They stuck their heads

together and looked across at the two policemen.

‘One more thing,’ Harry said. ‘Linda in POT told

me that there was an SS archive in Cologne, partly

destroyed by fire in the seventies, but some

information had been picked up there about

Norwegians fighting with the Germans.

Commands, military awards, ranks, that kind of

thing. I want you to ring them and see if you can

find out anything about Daniel Gudeson. And

Gudbrand Johansen.’

‘Yessir,’ Halvorsen said with his mouth full of