‘He’s asleep,’ she whispered. ‘I’m off.’
Her mother-in-law nodded and smiled. ‘Katrine.’
Katrine stopped. ‘Yeah?’
‘Can you promise me something?’
‘What?’
‘That you’ll have a nice time.’
Katrine met the older woman’s gaze. And understood what she was saying. That her son was long dead and buried, that life had to go on. That she, Katrine, had to go on. Katrine felt a lump in her throat.
‘Thanks, Gran,’ she whispered. It was the first time she had called her Gran, and she could see the other woman’s eyes filling with tears.
Katrine walked quickly towards the metro station by the National Theatre. She hadn’t dressed up too much. A warm jacket and practical shoes, as per Arne’s recommendation. Did that mean they would be dining in the outdoor part of the restaurant, under patio heaters and with the view all around? With only the sky above? She glanced up at the moon.
Her phone rang. It was Harry again.
‘Johan Krohn called,’ he said. ‘Just so you know, Markus Røed has given his bodyguards the slip.’
‘Not exactly a shock,’ she said. ‘He’s a drug addict.’
‘The security company sent people to Jernbanetorget. No sign of him there. He hasn’t come back, nor is he answering his phone. Of course he might have headed somewhere else to score and then gone on to celebrate his release. I just thought you should know.’
‘Thanks. I was planning on having a night where I don’t give Markus Røed a thought but concentrate on the people I like. How’s Ståle?’
‘Astonishingly well for a man so close to death.’
‘Really?’
‘He thinks it’s the Grim Reaper’s way of welcoming him. Have him step voluntarily over the threshold of the underworld.’
Katrine couldn’t help smiling. ‘Sounds like Ståle. How are his wife and daughter doing?’
‘They’re bearing up well. Coping.’
‘OK. Give him my love.’
‘Will do. Is Gert asleep?’
‘Yeah. He mentions you a little too often, I feel.’
‘Mm. A new uncle you never knew about is always exciting. Enjoy your restaurant date. Bit late to be eating now, isn’t it?’
‘Was inevitable, they’re having trouble getting through the workload at Krimteknisk. Sung-min was supposed to be going out to dinner with his partner. Does he know—’
‘Yeah, I called about Røed.’
‘Thanks.’
They hung up as Katrine made her way down into the underground.
Harry looked down at his phone. He had received one missed call while talking to Katrine. Ben’s number. He rang back.
‘Good morning, Harry. Me and a friend went down to Doheny. No Lucille there, I’m afraid. I called the police. They may wanna talk to you.’
‘I see. Give them my number.’
‘I did.’
‘OK. Thank you.’
They broke the connection. Harry shut his eyes and swore silently. Should he call the police himself? No, if the scorpion guys still had Lucille he’d be running the risk of them killing her. He couldn’t do anything but wait. So he had to put Lucille out of his mind for the moment, because he was encumbered with the brain of a man and could only concentrate on one thing at a time, and sometimes not even that, and right now he required it to stop a killer.
When Harry returned to room 618, Jibran had got out of bed and was sitting with Øystein and Truls by Aune’s bed. A phone was lying on the middle of the duvet.
‘Hole just came in,’ Aune said to the phone before turning to Harry. ‘Jibran thinks that if the killer has bred a new parasite, then he must have done some sort of research in microbiology.’
‘Helge at the Forensic Medical Institute thought the same,’ Harry said.
‘And there aren’t too many with a background in that,’ Aune said. ‘We’ve got Professor Løken on the line, he’s the head of research at the Department of Microbiology at Oslo University Hospital. He says he only knows of one person who has been involved in researching mutated Toxoplasma gondii parasites. Professor Løken, what did you say his name was?’
‘Steiner,’ a voice from the duvet crackled. ‘Fredric Steiner, parasitologist. He came a long way in developing a variant that could use humans as a primary host. Although there was a relative of his who tried to continue the research, but he lost financial support and a research place here.’
‘Can you say why?’ Aune asked.
‘As far as I can recall there was mention of unethical research methods.’
‘Meaning?’
‘I don’t know, but in this case I believe it concerned experimentation on living subjects.’
‘Harry Hole here, Professor. Do you mean he infected people?’
‘Nothing was ever proved but there were rumours, yes.’
‘What was the name of this person?’
‘I don’t remember, it was a long time ago, and the project was simply stopped. That’s not an uncommon occurrence, nothing needs to have gone wrong necessarily, sometimes projects don’t demonstrate sufficient progress. While we’ve been talking I’ve done a search for Steiner in the historical overview of research personnel, not just at our hospital but for the whole of Scandinavia. Unfortunately, I can only find Fredric. If it’s important, I can speak to someone who worked with parasitology at the time.’
‘We’d really appreciate that,’ Harry said. ‘How far did this relative get in their research?’
‘Not far, I would have heard about it otherwise.’
‘Do you have the time for a question from an idiot?’ Øystein asked.
‘They’re generally the best kind of questions,’ Løken said. ‘Go ahead.’
‘Why on earth would you finance research on breeding or retraining parasites so that they can use people as hosts? Isn’t that just destructive?’
‘What did I say about the best questions?’ Løken chuckled. ‘People often recoil when they hear the word parasite. And that’s understandable, since many parasites are dangerous and detrimental to the hosts. But many parasites also serve a medically valuable function for the host as it’s in their interest to keep the host alive and as healthy as possible. Seeing as they serve this function for animals, it’s not inconceivable they can also do so for people. Although Steiner was one of the few in Scandinavia engaged in the research of breeding beneficial parasites, internationally it’s been a large field for years. It’s only a question of time before someone in the field wins a Nobel Prize.’
‘Or provides us with the ultimate biological weapon?’ Øystein asked.
‘I thought you said you were an idiot,’ Løken replied. ‘Yes, that’s correct.’
‘We’ll have to save the world another day,’ Harry said. ‘Right now we’re interested in saving the next person on the list of a murderer. We’re aware that it’s Friday evening but you did ask if it was important...’
‘Which I now understand it is. I’ve read about you in the newspapers, Hole. I’ll make a few calls straight away, then I’ll get back to you.’
They hung up.
Looked at one another.
‘Anyone hungry?’ Aune asked.
The four others shook their heads.
‘None of you have eaten in a while,’ he said. ‘Is it the smell causing people to lose their appetite?’
‘What smell?’ Øystein asked.
‘The smell from my intestines. I can’t do anything about it.’
‘Dr Ståle,’ Øystein said, patting Aune’s hand on the duvet, ‘if there’s any smell then it’s coming from me.’
Aune smiled. Whether his tears were of pain or he was touched was impossible to say. Harry looked at his friend while the thoughts raced through his mind. Or rather: as though he was racing through his mind searching for a thought. He knew he was missing something and needed to ferret it out. And all he knew and was aware of was that it was urgent.