with the Americans. The agent in the toll booth
should never have been there. That is, it was
permitted, but the Norwegian liaison officer at the
scene should have been notified. The Norwegian
policeman who was at the post at which the agent
came into the zone, and who should have – sorry,
could have – informed the liaison officer, reacted
only to the ID the agent showed him. The standing
orders were that Secret Service agents had access
to all secure areas, and the policeman therefore
saw no reason to report it further. In retrospect, we
may say that he ought to have done.’
He looked at Anne Størksen, who gave no
indication that she would protest.
‘The good news is that at this juncture it does not
appear that anything has come out. I have not,
however, called this meeting to discuss what we
should do as a best-case scenario, which is
precious little more than sit tight. I presume we do
not need to consider such a thing. It would be
absurdly naive to believe that this shooting
incident will not leak out sooner or later.’
Bernt Brandhaug cupped his palms up and down
as if to bundle the sentences into suitable sound
bites.
‘In addition to the twenty-odd people from POT,
the FO and the co-ordination group who know
about this matter, there were approximately fifteen
police witnesses at the toll barrier. I do not wish to
say a bad word about any of them. I am sure they
will, on the whole, observe the customary pledges
of secrecy. Nevertheless, they are ordinary police
officers without any experience of the degree of
secrecy which is necessary in these circumstances.
There are, furthermore, employees at the
Rikshospital, the airline, the toll company Fjellinje
AS and the Plaza Hotel, who all, to a greater or
lesser degree, have reason to be suspicious about
what happened. There is no guarantee either that
the motor-cade was not being followed through
binoculars from one of the surrounding buildings.
One word from anyone who had anything to do
with this and . . .’ He blew out his cheeks to
represent an explosion.
It went quiet around the table until Møller cleared
his throat.
‘And why is it so . . . um . . . dangerous if it
comes out?’
Brandhaug nodded to demonstrate that this was
not the most stupid question he had heard, which
immediately gave Møller the intended sense that
this was exactly what it was.
‘The United States of America is more than just
an ally,’ Brandhaug began with an imperceptible
smile. He said it with the same intonation that you
use to explain to a non-Norwegian that Norway has
a king and that the capital is Oslo.
‘In 1920 Norway was one of Europe’s poorest
countries and probably still would be, had it not
been for America’s help. Forget politicians’
rhetoric. Emigration, Marshall Aid, Elvis and the
financing of the oil adventure have turned Norway
into probably one of the most pro-American
countries in the world. Those of us sitting here
have worked for years to attain the positions we
have in our careers today. But should it come to the
ears of our politicians that anyone in this room is
responsible for endangering the life of the
President . . .’
Brandhaug left the rest of the sentence hanging in
the air as he cast his eyes around the table.
‘Fortunately for us,’ he said, ‘the Americans
would rather concede a glitch with one of their
Secret Service agents than concede a fundamental
lack of co-operation with one of their closest
allies.’
‘That means’, said Rakel without glancing up
from the pad in front of her, ‘. . . that we do not
need a Norwegian scapegoat.’ Then she raised her
eyes and looked directly at Bernt Brandhaug.
‘Quite the contrary. We need a Norwegian hero,
don’t we?’
Brandhaug rested his gaze on her with a mixture
of surprise and interest. Surprise because she had
known so quickly where he was heading, and
interest because he had realised she was definitely
someone to be reckoned with.
‘That’s correct. The day it leaks out that a
Norwegian policeman has shot a Secret Service
agent, we have to have our version of events
straight,’ he said. ‘And our version must be that
nothing untoward happened on our side. Our
liaison officer at the scene acted according to
instructions and the blame lies solely with the
Secret Service agent. This is a version both we
and the Americans can live with. The challenge is
getting the media to buy it. And that is why —’
‘— we need a hero,’ the Chief Constable added.
‘Excuse me,’ Møller said. ‘Am I the only person