and elder brothers, who were all fanatical NS
people, and was forced to sign up for service at the
front. He himself was never a convinced Nazi, and
in 1943 he deserted near Leningrad. He was
briefly in Russian captivity and fought alongside
the Russians before managing to get back to
Norway via Sweden.’
‘Did you trust a soldier from the Eastern Front?’
Juul laughed. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Why are you laughing?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘I’ve got plenty of time.’
‘We ordered him to eliminate a member of his
family.’
Harry stopped pedalling. Juul cleared his throat.
‘When we found him in Nordmarka, just north of
Ullevålseter, at first we didn’t believe his story.
We thought he was an infiltrator and we were of a
mind to shoot him. We had connections in the Oslo
police archives, which meant that we could check
his story, and it turned out in fact that he had been
reported missing at the front. He was presumed to
have deserted. His family background checked out
and he had papers showing he was who he said he
was. All of this could have been fabricated by the
Germans, of course, so we decided to put him to
the test.’
Pause.
‘And?’
‘We hid him in a hut, away from both us and the
Germans. Someone suggested that we should order
him to eliminate one of his brothers in the
Nasjonal Samling. The main idea was to see how
he would react. He didn’t say a word when we
gave him the orders, but the next day he was gone
when we went down to his hut. We were sure he
had backed out, but two days later he reappeared.
He said he had been to the family farm in
Gudbrandsdalen. A few days later we received
reports from our people up there. One brother had
been found in the cowshed, the other in the barn.
The parents on the sitting-room floor.
‘My God,’ Harry said. ‘The man must have been
out of his mind.’
‘Probably. We all were. It was war. Besides, we
never talked about it, not then and not since. You
shouldn’t either . . .’
‘Of course not. Where does he live?’
‘Here in Oslo. Holmenkollen, I think.’
‘And his name is?’
‘Fauke. Sindre Fauke.’
‘Great. I’ll contact him. Thank you, herr Juul.’
On the TV screen, there was a very close close-
up of Poppe sending a tearful greeting home. Harry
secured the mobile phone in the waist-band of his
tracksuit bottoms, hitched them up and strode off to
the weights room.
Shania Twain remained unimpressed.
39
Gentlemen’s Outfitter,
Hegdehaugsveien. 2 March 2000.
‘WOOL QUALITY, SUPER 110,’ THE SHOP ASSISTANT
SAID, holding the suit jacket for the old man.‘The
best. Light and hard-wearing.’
‘It will only be worn once,’ the old man said with
a smile.
‘Oh,’ she said, slightly nonplussed. ‘Well, we
have some cheaper —’
He studied himself in the mirror. ‘This one is
fine.’
‘Classic cut,’ the shop assistant assured him. ‘The
most classic cut we have.’
She looked aghast at the old man, who was bent
double.
‘Are you ill? Shall I . . . ?’
‘No, it was a little twinge. It’ll go.’ The old man
straightened up. ‘How soon can you have the
trousers taken up?’
‘By Wednesday next week. If there’s no hurry. Do
you need them for a special occasion?’
‘I do, but Wednesday is fine.’
He paid her in 100-kroner notes.
As he counted them out, she said, ‘Well, I can tell
you that you will have a suit for the rest of your
life.’
His laughter was reverberating in her ears long
after he had gone.
40
Holmenkollen. 3 March 2000.
IN HOLLMENKOLLVEIEN IN BESSERUD, HARRY
FOUND THE house number he was looking for in the
dark, on a large black timbered house beneath
some very tall fir trees. A gravel drive led to the
house, and Harry drove right up to a level area
where he swung round. The idea was to park on
the slope, but as he changed down into first gear,
the car gave an almighty cough and breathed its
last. Harry cursed and turned the ignition key, but
the starter motor just groaned.
He got out of the car and walked up to the house
as a woman came out of the door. She obviously
hadn’t heard him coming and paused on the steps
with an enquiring smile.
‘Good morning,’ Harry said, nodding towards the
car. ‘Bit off colour, needs . . . some medicine.’
‘Medicine?’ Her voice was warm and deep.
‘Yes, I think it’s caught a touch of that flu going
round at the moment.’