The Redeemer(141)

'Robert,' Martine said. 'My God. She went to Robert.'

'Yes. And even though she didn't say anything to him, she thought Robert knew it was Jon. I think so, too. Robert knew Jon had raped before, didn't he?'

Martine did not answer. Instead she coiled up on the sofa, drew her legs beneath her and wrapped her arms around her bare shoulders as if she were cold or wanted to disappear inside herself.

When Martine finally began to talk her voice was so low that Harry could hear the ticking of Møller's watch.

'I was fourteen. While he was doing it I lay there thinking that if I concentrated on the stars I would be able to see them through the roof.'

Harry listened as she spoke about the hot day in Østgård, the game with Robert and Jon's reproving eyes that were dark with jealousy. And about when the door of the outside toilet opened and Jon stood there with his brother's jackknife. The rape and the pain afterwards as she was left crying while he went back to the house. And how incompre-hensible it was that the birds soon began to sing outside.

'But the worst was not the rape,' Martine said with a tear-filled voice but dry cheeks. 'The worst was that Jon knew. Knew he didn't even have to make threats to keep me silent. I would never squeal. He knew I knew that even if I produced my shredded clothes and was believed, there would always be a shadow of doubt regarding motive and guilt. And that it was about loyalty. Would I be the one, the daughter of the commander, to drag my parents and the whole Army into a ruinous scandal? All these years, whenever I've observed Jon, he's given me a look which says: "I know. I know how you shook with terror and cried quietly afterwards so that no one would hear you. I know and can see your mute cowardice every single day."' The first tear rolled down her cheek. 'And that's why I hate him so much. Not for raping me; I would have been able to forgive that. But for always going round showing me he knew.'

Harry went into the kitchen, tore off a paper towel from the roll, went back and sat down beside her.

'Watch your make-up,' he said passing her the towel. 'Prime Minister and all that.'

She dabbed carefully.

'Stankic has been to Østgård,' Harry said. 'Was it you who took him there?'

'What are you talking about?'

'He's been there.'

'Why do you say that?'

'Because of the smell.'

'Smell?'

Harry nodded. 'A sweet, perfume-like smell. I recognised it the first time I opened the door to Stankic in Jon's flat. The second time when I was standing in his room in the Hostel. And the third time when I woke up in Østgård this morning. The smell was in the blanket.' He studied Martine's keyhole-shaped pupils. 'Where is he, Martine?'

Martine stood up. 'Now I think you should go.'

'Answer me first.'

'I don't need to answer for something I haven't done.'

She had reached the living room door when Harry caught up with her. He stood in front of her and gripped her shoulders. 'Martine . . .'

'I have to go to a concert.'

'He killed one of my best friends, Martine.'

Her face was closed and hard as she replied. 'Perhaps he shouldn't have got in the way.'

Harry took his hands away as if burned. 'You can't just let Jon Karlsen be killed. What about forgiveness? Isn't that an intrinsic part of the business you're all in?'

'You're the one who thinks that people can change,' Martine said. 'Not me. And I don't know where Stankic is.'

Harry let her go; she went into the bathroom and closed the door. Harry stood waiting.

'And you're wrong about our line of business,' Martine called from behind the door. 'It's not about forgiveness. We're in the same business as everyone else. Redemption, right?'

Despite the cold, Rikard was standing outside the car leaning against the bonnet with his arms crossed. He didn't return Harry's nod as the police officer passed.





32

Monday, 22 December. The Exodus.



IT WAS HALF PAST SIX IN THE EVENING, BUT THERE WAS feverish activity in Crime Squad.

Harry found Ola Li by the fax machine. He glanced at the sheet coming through. Sent by Interpol.

'What's going on, Ola?'

'Gunnar Hagen rang round and scrambled the department. Absolutely everyone is here. We're going to get the guy who got Halvorsen.'

There was a determination in Li's tone that Harry knew by instinct reflected the atmosphere on the sixth floor that evening.

Harry went into his office where Skarre was standing behind the desk speaking on the telephone, fast and in a loud voice.

'We can make more trouble for you and your boys than you imagine, Affi. If you don't help me by getting your boys on the street, you will shoot right up to first place on our most wanted list. Have I made myself clear? So: Croat, medium height—'

'Blond, crew cut,' Harry said.

Skarre looked up and sent Harry a nod. 'Blond crew cut. Call me back when you've got something.'