'No,' she said.
'Did your father tell you not to say anything, Sofia? That's what I can see.'
'What can you see?'
'Someone has hurt you.'
'You're lying.'
'How did you get the mark on your forehead?'
'I walked into a door.'
'Now you are lying.'
Sofia snorted. 'You sound clever and all that, but you know nothing.
You're just an old policewoman who would prefer to be at home with children. I saw you in there.' The anger was still there, but the voice had already started to thicken. Harry gave her one, two sentences at most.
Beate sighed. 'You have to trust us, Sofia. And you have to help us. We're trying to stop a murderer.'
'That's not my fault, is it?' Her voice cracked and Harry could see that she had managed only the one sentence. Then the tears came. A cloudburst of tears. Sofia hunched over and the curtain closed again.
Beate put a hand on her shoulder, but she shook it off.
'Go away!' she shouted.
'Did you know that Robert went to Zagreb this autumn?' Harry asked.
Her head shot up and she looked at Harry with an expression of disbelief, coated in wet make-up.
'So he didn't tell you?' Harry went on. 'Then he may not have told you that he was in love with a girl called Thea Nilsen, either?'
'No,' she whispered tearfully. 'And so what if he was?'
Harry tried to read her reaction to the information, but it was difficult with all the black cosmetics running.
'You were in Fretex asking about Robert. What did you want?'
'A ciggy!' Sofia snapped. 'Go away!'
Harry and Beate looked at each other. Then they stood up.
'Have a little think,' Beate said. 'Then ring me at this number.' She left her card on the table.
The mother was waiting for them in the hall.
'Sorry,' Beate said. 'I'm afraid she got a bit upset. Perhaps you might have a word with her.'
They stepped out into the December morning in Jacob Aalls gate and headed for Suhms gate where Beate had found a lone parking spot.
'Oprostite!'
They turned. The voice came from the shadows of the arched entrance where they saw the glow of two cigarettes. Then the glows dropped to the ground and two men came out to meet them. It was Sofia's father and Uncle Josip. They stopped in front of them.
'Hotel International, eh?' said the father.
Harry nodded.
The father glanced at Beate from the corner of his eye.
'I'll go and get the car,' Beate said quickly. Harry never ceased to be amazed by how a girl who had spent most of her short life alone with videos and forensic evidence could have developed a social intelligence that was so superior to his own.
'I worked first year by . . . you know . . . removal company. But back kaput. In Vukovar electro engineer, see? Before the war. Here I have bugger all.'
Harry nodded. And waited.
Uncle Josip said something.
'Da, da,' the father mumbled, then turned to Harry. 'When Yugoslav army take Vukovar in 1991, yes? There was boy who exploded twelve tanks with . . . landmines, yes? We called him mali spasitelj.'
'Mali spasitelj,' the uncle repeated with reverence.
'The little redeemer,' the father said. 'That was his . . . name they said on walkie-talkie.'
'Code name?'
'Yes. After Vukovar capitulation Serbs tried to find him. But couldn't. Some said he was dead. And some didn't believe. They said he had never been . . . existed. Yes?'
'What has this got to do with Hotel International?'
'After the war people in Vukovar had no house. Everything rubble. So some came here. But most to Zagreb. President Tudjman—'
'Tudjman,' the uncle repeated, rolling his eyes.
'—and his people gave them room in big old hotel where they could see them. Surveillance. Yes? They ate soup and had no job. Tudjman does not like people from Slavonia. Too much Serb blood. Then Serbs who been in Vukovar dead. And there were rumours. That mali spasitelj was back.'
'Mali spasitelj,' Uncle Josip laughed.
'They said that Croats could get help. In Hotel International.'
'How?'
The father shrugged. 'Don't know. Rumours.'
'Mm. Does anyone else know about this . . . helper and Hotel International?'
'Others?'
'Anyone in the Salvation Army for example?'
'Yes. David Eckhoff knows everything. And the others now. He said words . . . after meal at party in Østgård this summer.'
'A speech?'
'Yes. He told about mali spasitelj and that some people always in war. War never finishes. For them, too.'
'Did the commander really say that?' Beate said as she drove into the illuminated Ibsen tunnel, slowed down and queued behind the stationary line of traffic.
'According to Miholjec, he did,' Harry pointed out. 'And I suppose everyone was there. Robert, too.'
'You think he could have given Robert the idea of using a hit man?' Beate drummed with impatience on the steering wheel.
'Well, at least we can establish that Robert has been to Zagreb. And as he knew Jon was seeing Thea he also had a motive.' Harry rubbed his chin. 'Listen, can you see to it that Sofia is taken to a doctor for a thorough check-up? If I'm not much mistaken there's more than that one bruise. I'll try and catch the morning flight to Zagreb.'