The Redeemer(137)

'It's about a patient you saw this morning. Sofia Miholjec.'

'Really? Take a seat, Harry.'

Harry did not allow himself to be irritated by the other man's friendly tone, but this was an invitation he was reluctant to accept. Not because he was too proud but because it was going to be embarrassing for them both.

'Sofia's mother called me to say she had been woken up this morning by Sofia crying in her room,' Harry said. 'She went in and found her daughter bruised and bleeding. Sofia said she had been out with friends and had slipped on the ice on the way home. The mother woke the father and he brought her here.'

'It may be true,' Mathias said. He had leaned forward on his elbows as if to show how much this interested him.

'However, the mother maintains she's lying,' Harry went on. 'She checked the bed after Sofia and her father had gone. And there was blood not only on the pillow, but also on the sheet. "Down there" as she put it.'

'Mm-hm.' The sound Mathias made was neither support nor denial, but a sound which Harry knew for a fact they rehearsed in the therapy unit of the psychology department. Rising intonation on the final syllable was meant to encourage patients to continue. Mathias's intonation had gone up.

'Sofia has locked herself in her room now,' Harry said. 'She's crying and refuses to say a word. And according to her mother she won't, either. The mother has called Sofia's girlfriends. Not one of them saw her yesterday.'

'I see.' Mathias pinched the bridge of his nose. 'And now you're asking me to ignore patient confidentiality for you?'

'No,' said Harry.

'No?'

'Not for me. For them. For Sofia and her parents. And for others he may have raped and will rape.'

'Those are strong words.' Mathias smiled, but the smile faded with the silence. He coughed. 'You understand, I'm sure, that I have to mull this over first, Harry.'

'Was she raped last night or not?'

Mathias sighed. 'Harry, patient confidentiality is—'

'I know what confidentiality is,' Harry interrupted. 'I'm subject to it as well. When I ask you to make an exception in this case it's not because I take patient confidentiality lightly, but because I have made an assessment of the brutal nature of this crime and the potential danger of its recurrence. If you would trust me and rely on my assessment I would be grateful. If you don't you will have to try and live with it as best you can.'

Harry wondered how many times he had given this spiel in similar situations.

Mathias blinked and his face fell.

'It's good enough if you nod or shake your head,' Harry said.

Mathias Lund-Helgesen nodded.

It had done the trick again.

'Thank you,' Harry said, getting up. 'Things going well with Rakel and you and Oleg?'

Lund-Helgesen nodded again with a wan smile. Harry leaned forward and placed a hand on the doctor's shoulder. 'Happy Christmas, Mathias.'

The last thing Harry saw as he went out of the door was Mathias Lund-Helgesen sitting in the chair with slumped shoulders, looking as though someone had given him a slap.


The last daylight leaked out between orange clouds over the spruce trees and housetops to the west of Norway's largest cemetery. Harry walked past the stone monument for Yugoslavia's war dead, the Norwegian Labour Party's plot, the gravestones for Prime Ministers Einar Gerhardsen and Trygve Bratteli to the Salvation Army's own plot. As expected, he found Sofia by the freshest grave. She was sitting erect in the snow wrapped up in a large Puffa jacket.

'Hi,' said Harry, settling down beside her.

He lit a cigarette and exhaled into the icy breeze, which carried the blue smoke away.

'Your mother said you'd just left,' Harry said. 'And you took the flowers your father had bought you. It wasn't hard to guess.'

Sofia didn't answer.

'Robert was a good friend, wasn't he? Someone you could rely on. And talk to. Not a rapist.'

'Robert was the one who did it,' she whispered lethargically.

'Your flowers are on Robert's grave, Sofia. I believe someone else raped you. And he did it again last night. And he may have done it several times.'

'Leave me in peace!' she screamed and struggled to her feet in the snow. 'Don't you lot listen?'

Harry held his cigarette in one hand, grabbed her arm with the other and pulled her down hard into the snow.

'This one's dead, Sofia. You're alive. Do you hear me? You're alive. And if you intend to continue living we'd better catch him now. If not, he'll carry on. You weren't the first and you won't be the last. Look at me. Look at me, I'm telling you!'

His sudden shout startled Sofia and she obeyed.

'I know you're scared, Sofia. But I promise you I'll get him. Whatever happens. I swear.'

Harry saw something stir in her eyes. And if he was right, it was hope. He waited. And then she breathed something inaudible.

'What did you say?' Harry asked, leaning forwards.

'Who will believe me?' she whispered. 'Who will believe me now . . . that Robert is dead?'