theoretically speaking.’
‘ Theoretically, boss?’
‘Not my words. But the conclusion is,
nevertheless, that we keep a lid on this. We don’t
want to sow instability. Or reveal weaknesses in
the security system. Those aren’t my words, either.
Assassinations are contagious, just like . . .’
‘I know what you mean,’ Harry said, expelling
smoke through his nose. ‘Primarily we’re doing
this for those sitting in positions of power, aren’t
we? People who could have and should have
sounded the alarm before.’
‘As I said,’ Møller replied. ‘On some days
Bergen seems like a handsome alternative.’
Neither of them said anything for a few minutes.
A bird strutted in front of them, wagged its tail,
pecked at the grass and kept a watchful eye open.
‘Wagtail,’ Harry said. ‘ Motacilla alba. Cautious
chap.’
‘What?’
‘ Our Small Birds. What shall we do about the
murders Gudbrand Johansen committed?’
‘We cleared up all the early murders to our
satisfaction, didn’t we?’
‘What do you mean?’
Møller squirmed.
‘The only thing we’ll achieve by stirring up things
now is ripping open old wounds for the next of kin,
and there’s a risk someone will poke around and
dig up the whole story. The cases were closed.’
‘Right. Even Juul. And Sverre Olsen. What about
the murder of Hallgrim Dale?’
‘No one will kick up a fuss about him. After all,
Dale was a . . . er . . .’
‘Just an old piss artist no one would give a toss
about?’
‘Please, Harry, don’t make this more difficult
than it already is. You know I’m not happy with
this, either.’
Harry stubbed out his cigarette on the armrest of
the bench and put the cigarette end back in the
packet.
‘I have to go in again, boss.’
‘So we can count on you keeping this to yourself
?’
Harry gave a laconic smile. ‘Is it true what I’ve
heard? About the person who wants to take over
my job in POT?’
‘Absolutely,’ Møller said. ‘Tom Waaler has said
he’ll apply. Meirik wants to make the whole neo-
Nazi section part of the job description, so it’ll
become a kind of springboard for the top jobs. I’m
going to recommend him, by the way. I suppose
you’re just happy he’s going to disappear now
you’re back in Crime Squad? Now that his
inspector post with us will become vacant.’
‘So that’s the reward for keeping my mouth shut?’
‘What on earth makes you think that, Harry? It’s
because you’re the best. You’ve proved it yet
again, haven’t you? I’m just wondering whether we
can rely on you.’
‘You know which job I want to work on?’
Møller rolled his shoulders. ‘Ellen’s murder has
been cleared up, Harry.’
‘Not quite,’ he said. ‘There are a couple of
details we still don’t know. Among other things,
what happened to the 200,000 Norwegian kroner
for the purchase of the rifle. Perhaps there were
several middlemen.’
Møller nodded.
‘OK. You and Halvorsen have two months. If you
don’t find anything, the case is closed.’
‘Fair enough.’
Møller stood up to go. ‘There’s just one thing
I’ve been wondering, Harry. How did you guess
the password was “Oleg”?’
‘Well, Ellen was always telling me that the first
thing that came into her mind was almost
invariably right.’
‘Impressive.’ Møller nodded his head in
appreciation. ‘And so the first thing that came into
your mind was the name of his grandchild?’
‘No.’
‘No?’
‘I’m not Ellen. I had to give it some thought.’
Møller sent him a sharp look. ‘Are you teasing
me now, Hole?’
Harry smiled. Then he gestured towards the
wagtail. ‘I read in the bird book I mentioned that
no one knows why wagtails wag their tails when
they stand still. It’s a mystery. The only thing we
know is that they can’t stop . . .’
106
Police HQ. 19 May 2000.
HARRY HAD JUST PLACED HIS FEET ON THE DESK AND
FOUND the perfect sitting position when the
telephone rang. So as not to lose his position, he
stretched forward while using his backside
muscles to balance on the new office chair with the
treacherous well-oiled wheels. He was able to
reach the phone with the tips of his fingers.
‘Hole.’
‘Harry? Isaiah Burne in Johannesburg speaking.