“I see.”
“Nilsen. . do you know those folks at the Ministry of the Environment?”
“No. What about them?”
“They got a twelve percent increase to their budget when they showed pictures and video of those cute seal puppies choking and dying in Russian solvents and pollutants in the Arctic.”
“Don’t worry boss. I know exactly what to do.”
Chapter 4
MIDSUMMER’S EVE, OR
THE LONGEST DAY OF THE YEAR, OR
1 YEAR AND 19 DAYS AFTER THE DAY,
FRIDAY, JUNE 4
“Where’s my Daddy?”
No one answered Karl Haugen.
The blinding sunshine fell on his eyes. He wondered where he was and why he could not see his father. So much time had passed and yet Karl Haugen felt as if he had last seen his father just a few minutes ago. He had lost track of time.
“Where’s my Daddy?”
Silence.
“I want to see my father!”
The Norwegian storting or parliament met in session. The ruling party confidently looked forward to a thorough grilling by the opposition parties on the danger to Norwegian banks from potential defaults on the government debt of poorly managed European Union countries like Spain and Greece.
After receiving recognition to speak Edvard Ruud stood up. He was the senior member of a small ultra right-wing opposition party that wanted to end immigration and other social engineering projects. Edvard Ruud stood silently for a long time before he said:
“Mister Speaker. . although high finance and the well-being of international bankers seem to be the primary concern of the Prime Minister and his government. . can the Prime Minister and his Minister of Justice explain why the government’s police have gotten absolutely no results on finding a Norwegian child who’s been missing now for twelve months. . The child is Karl Haugen age seven. . an innocent boy who mysteriously disappeared from his school in the middle of the day.”
The chamber erupted in shouts and catcalls which did not deter Edvard Ruud.
“Karl Haugen. . an innocent child and Norwegian citizen is. . in my opinion. . far more important than the foreign deadbeat countries that are always seeking bailouts and handouts from Norway and other countries whose citizens work hard and spend wisely.”
The Prime Minister stood up and said, “Does the right honorable member from Namsos actually have a question for me?. . I lost track of his question in his long speech.”
“Ja. I have three questions. Exactly when and how does your Minister of Justice plan on finding the little boy Karl Haugen and bringing him back home?. . Are the school children of Norway really safe when the police cannot find a little boy after one entire year of looking for him?. . Just what has been done to find Karl Haugen with all of the money and manpower that the Justice Minister asked for and got with his latest budget increase?”
Oslo Police Commissioner Ivar Thorsen could not believe his luck in getting invited to the exclusive Oustoen Country Club on Ostoya Island about 15 miles southwest of downtown Oslo. His efforts had paid off. His mother had taught him well. She always said, “Hang around rich and powerful people. Then do what the rich and powerful people do.”
“So,” said his boss, “you really play golf?”
“Ja!”
“Really? Alright then. You’re playing with me. Let’s go.”
They teed off and played in the glorious summer weather. His boss was driving the cart to the second hole when his boss suddenly stopped and said:
“We have a problem.”
“I took care of it. No one will ever know.”
“What? You did?”
“You know. . our last mayor. . his mistress getting a no-bid contract worth millions.”
“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the missing boy.”
“Karl Haugen?”
“Yes. The little shit is causing a lot of trouble.”
“I did what you told me to do. . to make it appear that we were doing something.”
“That’s no longer good enough. You see. . unfortunately someone higher up has taken an interest in the case. He wants a final solution. . he won’t tolerate any longer for us to appear as if we’re doing something.”
The two men played and moved on to the third hole.
“Who is interested?”
“The Minister of Justice and Police,” said his boss as he swung his four iron.
“Oh,” he said somewhat in shock that the boss of his boss’s boss had taken an interest in the boy. He had never heard of a member of cabinet taking an interest in such a matter. Powerful people surely had more important things to care about.
His wise mother had told him many many times, “The powerful only care about what’s good for them. Never forget that.” That’s what his mother had taught him and she knew very well how the world worked.
Penniless his mother had come to Oslo to work at a bank executive’s home as a maid. The poor but pretty peasant girl from a small village near the border with Sweden was no fool. She knew how the world worked and she became very good friends with the bank executive and his wife and their son and she soon got pregnant and very lucky as a single mother with permanent employment. She got lots of benefits and gifts from the bank executive including tuition for her son’s university as well as a tidy retirement sum set aside for when she turned 55.
At the fourth hole his boss knocked the ball in at par and said:
“The Minister wants the situation with the boy resolved as soon as possible. . no later than December.”
“That’s just six months from now.”
“You have to do it. He’s planning on becoming the next Prime Minister. And that bit of news is utterly and completely confidential. You must tell absolutely no one about it. Understand?”
“Ja. Of course.”
The men played in silence and moved on to the fifth hole.
“What do you want me to do?”
His boss took out a seven iron. “Do whatever it takes.”
“An arrest?”
“Whatever it takes.”
“A confession?”
“Whatever it takes. It’s your department. You’re the Politimeister. . the Police Commissioner and Chief of the Oslo district!”
Ivar Thorsen was troubled and his game went from mediocre to horrible. His score reached pathetic levels for the next two holes. He felt sick over the situation that his boss had just put him into.
If he failed then he would have to take the blame as well as any unpleasant consequences such as a forced early retirement.
If he got results then someone else would take the credit.
After much thought Thorsen slowly realized that it was okay if he didn’t get any of the credit before the public and the media and the government. This time he didn’t mind someone else taking the credit because the Minister of Justice or his boss or his boss’s boss would surely remember who had gotten things done.
After they teed off for the ninth hole Thorsen said, “I really appreciate you telling me that the Minister is interested.”
“I told you because I want no doubts or timid half-measures from you. This way there’s absolutely no doubt as to what you need to do. . and what the rewards and consequences will be if you succeed or fail.”
Shivers went up and down Thorsen’s spine. “Any preferences on what I should do or how I should proceed?”
“It’s your department! Just do it.”
Ivar Thorsen couldn’t play at all. He spent a lot of time hacking away in the rough and cursed when he dug himself in deeper at a sand bunker. He finally reached the tee for the ninth hole that offered magnificent views of Oslofjord and the city of Oslo and the low mountains which ring Oslo to the north and west.