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The Redbreast(27)

By:Jo Nesbo


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