– Saw that on the net, Roar replied. – Relevant for us?
– Jim Harris. Skewered through the throat with a sharp object. Probably a screwdriver. The carotid artery completely severed. Dead before he was dumped in the water.
Roar was on his feet, standing in the middle of the room. – When?
– Last night. Masses of blood on the quayside, right next to Tjuvholmen. Must have happened there.
– Witnesses?
– Four or five seagulls. None of them willing to say anything.
Roar glanced at the TV screen, a repeat of a La Liga match. – The guy had a drug debt.
– This isn’t drug related, Viken asserted, and Roar too had immediately seen that it didn’t fit the pattern.
The detective chief inspector’s voice took on an unpleasant undertone as he continued: – Plåterud has been kind enough to let us have a résumé each time she’s had a conversation with Liss Bjerke. It’s time we resumed control of the interviewing of central witnesses. What’s your opinion?
– Oh absolutely, Roar coughed. Jennifer had called him not more than half an hour ago, she was coming out to see him later that evening. – It isn’t Plåterud’s job to carry out interviews, he agreed, and cleared his throat again. – I’ll get in touch with her.
– Get in touch with who?
– Liss Bjerke.
– I’ve done that ages ago. Have you checked her out against the PNC database?
– No, Roar had to confess. Liss Bjerke had been in Amsterdam when her sister went missing, and it was hard to see how she could be involved. All the same, he should have checked her against the list of offenders. It was a question of the reliability of an important witness.
– I thought not, Viken observed. – The girl has eight cases outstanding against her.
– Christ.
– Assaulting the police in the course of illegal demonstrations. Hauled in a number of times.
Roar thought about it and swallowed. – Then we’ve got a very good excuse for bringing her in.
Viken said: – We’ll keep it in reserve in case we need it. It looks as though I’m going to be able to get her to come in more or less voluntarily. She demands to speak to a female investigator.
– Are we going to let ourselves be dictated to by a stroppy girl?
Viken snorted at the other end. – This is all about one thing.
– Of course, Roar noted. – Results.
He turned off the TV and made his way out into the hallway, took his shoes out of the box room.
– I’ve got your memo about Pål Øvreby here in front of me, Viken continued.
Roar had done a thorough job on it. The day after he had interviewed the psychologist who shared the waiting room with Mailin Bjerke, he had called back and asked a series of control questions. The guy insisted that he had not seen hide nor hair of Mailin on Thursday 11 December. On one point, however, he did change his statement. On thinking about it, he recalled that he had stopped as he passed her car parked on Welhavens Street. He bent down to see if Mailin was inside, apparently because there was something he wanted to ask her. What it was he had long since forgotten. Roar had wanted to know if there was a parking ticket in the window, but the psychologist was unable to help him there.
– Any new information? he asked now.
– I received a letter this afternoon, the detective chief inspector grunted. – I’ve put a copy on your desk. You’d better take a look at it next time you’re down here.
– Is it about Øvreby?
– You might say that. A tip-off that the guy is involved big-time in a social security scam. Anonymous sender.
Roar got his other shoe on.
– Apparently something that’s been going on a long time, Viken added. – The letter concludes as follows: Mailin Bjerke knew what was taking place in the office next door.
28
Thursday 8 January
RoAR SWUNG INTO the Oslo police station garage at 7.15. As he turned off the engine, his phone rang.
– Awake already? said Jennifer, obviously trying to sound surprised. – And here’s me ringing to wake you up.
– Been up for hours, he shot back at her. – Showered, eaten, done some work. Even though I had female company until well past midnight. Just couldn’t get her to leave.
– Oh that’s too bad. And she probably forgot to pull the blanket over you before she left.
He could see her smiling, the face breaking up into tiny wrinkles.
– By the way, I’ve just been talking to Viken, she said. – I told him about a test finding that’s come in that might interest you too.
She always sounded like a proud little girl when she had something important to relate.
– Are you calling to tease me, or are you actually going to tell me what it is?
She laughed. – I’m sure you’ll hear it from the man himself, she said. – But then I felt like talking to you. Two birds with one stone. It’s about the hairs we found on Mailin Bjerke. We sent them to a specialist lab in Austria.
Seconds ticked by in silence.
– Would you please get to the point, Jenny? I’ve got a ton of documents to get through before the morning briefing.
– The good news is that they’ve managed to get some DNA from them, even though the roots are missing.
– Not bad. You’ll be sending us a profile?
– And then there’s the bad news. All we’ve got is mitochondrial DNA.
– Meaning what?
– If we’re lucky, we might find a DNA type that occurs in a relatively small minority of the population.
A female member of the team hurried past Roar’s car and waved to him.
Jennifer said: – Anything new about Mailin Bjerke’s father?
– You mean the stepfather?
– The biological father. The one neither of them has seen for the past twenty years.
– We’re still trying to get hold of him in Canada, Roar confided. – For a number of reasons. Why do you ask?
– Ragnhild Bjerke came to my office yesterday.
– She did? Why didn’t you tell us before?
Jennifer hesitated. – It was a sort of medical consultation. I’m not really sure how much I can reveal. There’s something about this father, but…
There was a knock on the car window. Viken was standing outside. Roar jumped, broke the connection and tossed the phone on to the passenger seat. He wound down the window.
– Meeting’s put back until ten, the detective chief inspector informed him, and then peered quizzically at him.
A few ancient images suddenly flashed through Roar’s mind: his father bursting in through the bedroom door, shouting at him to get out of bed. Standing there naked, with Sara cowering under the duvet. Ordered straight into the shower, while she was sent home.
He didn’t take in everything Viken said, something about him being on his way to Aker Brygge to take a look at the crime scene there with someone from the forensics unit.
– We’ve had some provisional results from those hair samples, Viken went on.
– So I heard.
The detective chief inspector’s eyebrows wriggled into each other. – You heard already? From whom?
Roar could have beaten his head against the steering wheel. Or started the engine and driven off. He controlled himself and managed to reply. – Called Flatland. On a completely unrelated matter as it happens.
He picked up his mobile and shoulder bag and opened the car door. – At best we’re talking about a fairly uncommon type of DNA.
He climbed out of the car, stood a good half a head taller than Viken.
– Have you seen VG? The detective chief inspector pulled a newspaper from his inside pocket, spread it open on the roof of the car.
Roar read: Berger to reveal killer tonight on Taboo? – Well I fucking never.
– My sentiments exactly, said Viken. – Since my interview with him yesterday evening, our friend has used his time well.