The Redbreast(2)

take the risk, as it were, and stay here.’

‘ As it were? ’

Another crackle on the radio: ‘Post 62 to HQ.

There’s an unmarked car parked by the road two

hundred metres before the turn-off for Lørenskog.’

A deep voice with a Bergen accent answered

from HQ: ‘One moment, 62. We’ll look into it.’

Silence.

‘Did you check the toilets?’ Harry asked, nodding

towards the Esso station.

‘Yes, the petrol station has been cleared of all

customers and employees. Everyone except the

boss. We’ve locked him in his office.’

‘Toll booths as well?’

‘Done. Relax, Harry, all the checks have been

done. Yes, the ones that stay do so in the hope that

it will be a mild winter, right? That may be OK,

but if they’re wrong, they die. So why not head

south, just in case, you might be wondering. Are

they just lazy, the birds that stay?’

Harry looked in the mirror and saw the guards on

either side of the railway bridge. Dressed in black

with helmets and MP5 machine guns hanging

around their necks. Even from where he was he

could see the tension in their body language.

‘The point is that if it’s a mild winter, they can

choose the best nesting places before the others

return,’ Ellen said, while trying to stuff the thermos

into the already full glove compartment. ‘It’s a

calculated risk, you see. You’re either laughing all

over your face or you’re in deep, deep shit.

Whether to take the risk or not. If you take the

gamble, you may fall off the twig frozen stiff one

night and not thaw out till spring. Bottle it and you

might not have anywhere to nest when you return.

These are, as it were, the eternal dilemmas you’re

confronted with.’

‘You’ve got body armour on, haven’t you?’ Harry

twisted round to check. ‘Have you or haven’t you?’

She tapped her chest with her knuckles by way of

reply.

‘Lightweight?’

She nodded.

‘For fuck’s sake, Ellen! I gave the order for

ballistic vests to be worn. Not those Mickey

Mouse vests.’

‘Do you know what the Secret Service guys use?’

‘Let me guess. Lightweight vests?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Do you know what I don’t give a shit about?’

‘Let me guess. The Secret Service?’

‘That’s right.’

She laughed. Harry managed a smile too. There

was a crackle from the radio.

‘HQ to post 62. The Secret Service say it’s their

car parked on the turn-off to Lørenskog.’

‘Post 62. Message received.’

‘You see,’ Harry said, banging the steering wheel

in irritation, ‘no communication. The Secret

Service people do their own thing. What’s that car

doing up there without our knowledge? Eh?’

‘Checking that we’re doing our job,’ Ellen said.

‘According to the instructions they gave us.’

‘You’ll be allowed to make some decisions, so

stop grumbling,’ she said. ‘And stop that drumming

on the wheel.’

Harry’s hands obediently leapt into his lap. She

smiled. He let out one long stream of air: ‘Yeah,

yeah, yeah.’

His fingers found the butt of his service revolver,

a .38 calibre Smith & Wesson, six shots. In his belt

he had two additional magazines, each holding six

shots. He patted the revolver, knowing that, strictly

speaking, he wasn’t actually authorised to carry a

weapon. Perhaps he really was becoming short-

sighted; after the forty-hour course last winter he

had failed the shooting test. Although that was not

so unusual, it was the first time it had happened to

Harry and he didn’t like it at all. All he had to do

was take the test again – many had to take it four or

five times – but for one reason or another Harry

continued to put it off.

More crackling noises: ‘Passed point 28.’

‘One more point to go in the Romerike police

district,’ Harry said. ‘The next one is Karihaugen

and then it’s us.’

‘Why can’t they do it how we used to? Just say

where the motorcade is instead of all these stupid

numbers,’ Ellen asked in a grumbling tone.

‘Guess.’

They answered in unison: ‘The Secret Service!’

And laughed.

‘Passed point 29.’

He looked at his watch.

‘OK, they’ll be here in three minutes. I’ll change

the frequency on the walkie-talkie to Oslo police

district. Run the final checks.’

Ellen closed her eyes to concentrate on the

positive checks that came back one after the other.