The Redbreast(161)

eye stared out into the room while the other was

fixed on Harry. Independently. Like a two-headed

troll with an eye in each head, Harry thought. He

walked over to the window facing east and

watched the children cycling along Irisveien,

drawn by the rumours of police cars which always

spread with inexplicable speed in areas like this.

Harry closed his eyes and reflected. The first

impression is important. The first thought that

came into your mind at the scene is often the

most accurate. Ellen had taught him that. His own

trainee had taught him to concentrate on the first

thing he felt when he came to the scene of the

crime. That was why Harry didn’t need to turn to

know that the key was on the floor behind him. He

knew they wouldn’t find any fingerprints in the

room and that no one had broken into the house.

Quite simply because both the murderer and the

victim were hanging from the ceiling. The two-

headed troll had split.

‘Call Weber,’ Harry said to Halvorsen, who had

joined them and was standing in the doorway,

staring at the hanging body.

‘He may have planned a different start to

tomorrow’s festivities, but console him with the

fact that this one is cut and dried. Even Juul

discovered the murderer and had to pay for it with

his life.’

‘And who is it?’ Waaler asked.

‘Was. He’s dead too. He called himself Daniel

Gudeson and lived in Juul’s head.’

On the way out, Harry told Halvorsen Weber

should call him if he found the Märklin.

Harry stood on the doorstep outside and surveyed

the area. It was striking how many neighbours

suddenly had jobs to do in their gardens and were

standing on the tips of their toes to see over the

hedges. Waaler came out too and stood beside

Harry.

‘I didn’t quite understand what you said in there,’

Waaler said. ‘Do you mean the guy committed

suicide out of guilt?’

Harry shook his head.

‘No, I meant what I said. They killed each other.

Even killed Daniel to stop him. And Daniel killed

Even so that he wouldn’t be unmasked. For once

their interests coincided.’

Waaler nodded, but didn’t seem to be any the

wiser.

‘There’s something familiar about the old guy,’ he

said. ‘The living one, I mean.’

‘Right. It’s Rakel Fauke’s father, if you —’

‘Of course, the totty up at POT. That’s the one.’

‘Have you got a smoke?’ Harry asked.

‘No can do,’ Waaler said. ‘The rest of what

happens here is your responsibility, Hole. I’m

thinking of leaving, so if you need any help, tell me

now.’

Harry shook his head, and Waaler walked

towards the gate.

‘Oh, by the way,’ Harry said. ‘If you’re not doing

anything special tomorrow, I need an experienced

officer to take my shift.’

Waaler laughed and kept walking.

‘You just have to organise surveillance during the

service at the mosque in Grønland,’ Harry shouted.

‘I can see you’re pretty good at that sort of thing.

We just have to make sure the skinheads don’t beat

up the Muslims for celebrating Eid.’

Waaler had reached the gate and suddenly

stopped.

‘And you’re in charge of that?’ he asked over his

shoulder.

‘It’s no big deal,’ Harry said. ‘Two cars, four

men.’

‘How long?’

‘Eight till three.’

Waaler turned round with a broad smile.

‘Do you know what?’ he said. ‘Now that I think

about it, I owe you a favour. That’s great. I’ll do

your shift.’

Waaler saluted, got into the car, started it up and

was off.

Owes me a favour for what? Harry mused, and

listened to the lazy thwacks of the ball coming

from the tennis court. But the next moment he had

forgotten because his mobile rang again, and this

time the number on the display was Rakel’s.

92

Holmenkollveien. 16 May 2000.

‘ARE THOSE FOR ME?’

Rakel clapped her hands and took the bunch of

daisies.

‘I couldn’t get to the florist, so these are from

your own garden,’ Harry said, stepping inside the

door. ‘Mm, that smells of coconut milk. Thai?’

‘Yes, and congratulations on the new suit.’

‘That obvious, is it?’

Rakel laughed and stroked the lapels.

‘Good quality wool.’

‘Super 110.’

Harry had no idea what Super 110 meant. In a

moment of exuberance he had marched into one of

the trendy shops in Hedgehaugsveien as they were

closing and had managed to get the sales staff to

find him the only suit into which they could fit his