He added: – Who really believes that here in Norway we’ve got terrorists who are willing to kill to protest against the government’s wildlife conservation policies? We would have known about a group like that a long time ago. But it’s enough to keep the press going for a day or two. See how much they got out of that fantasy about a killer beast roaming the streets of the city. No one much above the age of five believes that those women were attacked by a bear, but as you know, people love to read that kind of stuff. If the papers had written that we were looking for a troll with nine heads, they would have sold even more copies.
Finckenhagen had to agree with him.
– I was thinking of suggesting to the Chief Superintendent the possibility of bringing in a psychologist who knows something about profiling. It would give you someone to talk things over with. This case is so special, I think he might go along with the idea. What do you think?
Viken mulled it over.
– In that case we would be saying loud and clear that we suspect a serial killer may be on the loose. It would probably cause as much hysteria as rumours about a killer bear.
– The papers are already speculating along those lines anyway, regardless of what we do. Do we have any use for one of these psychologists?
– We’ve got a couple up here in the frozen north who think they know something about psychological profiling. What you get from them is a large pile of platitudes and an even larger pile of bills. We’d need to go abroad if we’re looking for someone good.
– Think about it. I’m open to suggestions.
– Let’s make the most of what we’ve got for the time being, Viken concluded.
39
NINA JEBSEN OPENED the incident book to see if there was anything of possible significance for the two murder cases. Thirty-five calls had been registered over the weekend, and she gave some of them a closer look. She had lost count of the number of people reported missing after the newspapers began writing about the murders. In most cases they were women who turned up again a few hours later.
Of the three missing-persons reports that were still on file, one was considered interesting enough to send a patrol car to take a closer look. An address in Rodeløkka. A thirty-six-year-old woman who hadn’t been seen since Friday afternoon. Former drug addict, Nina saw, noting how this was reflected in the tone of the report. Tempting to suspect the woman had cracked up and gone back to the street; she would probably turn up in a hospital, or at best a hospice, at some point over the next few days. But the neighbour who had reported her missing seemed certain that this wasn’t the case. She had returned home Sunday evening to find the missing woman’s door half open and the television still on. Nina made a note of the name and continued through the rest of the book.
She was almost done when the phone rang. The switchboard had a caller on the line who insisted on talking to Viken, but Viken was in a meeting. Nina reminded the operator that no phone tips were to be passed on to Violent Crimes without filtering. After Viken had been in the newspapers and on the TV a few times, every Tom, Dick and Hilda who called in insisted it was him they had to talk to. What about those who refused to speak to anyone else? the switchboard operator wanted to know. People who claimed to have vital information about the murders? Nina gave up with a sigh and asked him to put the call through to her.
– Viken? a female voice shouted into her ear.
– Viken is in a meeting, Nina informed her. – Who is this?
– You’ve got to do something, the woman continued. Already Nina was regretting her indulgence.
– We’re always doing something, she said soothingly. – Don’t worry about that.
– You’re not doing your job, the woman insisted, and Nina glanced at her watch. She’d give this woman thirty seconds before hanging up.
– It’s going to happen again. And you’re not doing anything.
Suddenly the voice changed. It became deeper and slower:
– You can’t do anything. It’s going to happen anyway.
– Perhaps you’d explain yourself, Nina suggested.
– I will. Don’t you worry about that. He who has eyes to see, let him see. As far as I’m concerned, you can go to hell, the lot of you. That’s where you’re headed. You can’t save him.
– Who can’t we save?
– There is just one righteous man in this city, and almost no one knows who he really is. And his name shall be blessed for ever. Make a note of that, sweetie, a clearing in the forest, a glen in the wilderness. But he’s the one they’re after, the killers and the rapists and rope-makers, because if they get him then Sodom and Gomorrah and Jerusalem will fall, and if you understood anything at all inside your heads, you would protect him night and day and twenty-four-seven. The chosen ones will follow him. I’ve followed him before, all the way to the terminus, the last stop, and God knows I will go on following him. Glen in the forest. But his time will soon be up, that’s what you don’t understand.
The woman hung up. Nina Jebsen remained sitting there looking at the screen for a few moments before opening a document and entering a few lines about the conversation. She asked herself why it was that every lunatic in the world felt drawn towards unsolved murder cases. Like moths to the light.
40
AXEL HURRIED UP the twisting stairway. The yellowy-brown felt carpet was worn down the middle, and the way the stairs sloped to one side gave him a strange sensation of falling. She had sent him a text. Must talk to you. He had to talk to her too, one last time.
She opened the door and let him in. Stayed standing in the dimly lit hallway and looked up into his eyes.
– Thank you for coming, she said.
He had brought two bottles of wine with him. They chinked together as he put the plastic bag down.
– I’m afraid, Axel.
He pulled her close, doubting whether he could bring himself to say what he had come to say.
– I wish so much you could stay. Never leave here again.
– What is it you’re afraid of? he murmured in her ear.
– Anita’s gone missing.
– Anita?
– The woman who lives underneath.
– The one with the daughter who was taken into care?
Miriam nodded.
– When I came home yesterday, her door was wide open. The TV and all the lights were on. I knew straight away something was wrong. I called the police. They’ve been here.
She took him by the hand, led him into the living room.
– She was supposed to fetch Victoria yesterday afternoon, but she never turned up at the foster parents’ home.
– Might she not just have gone off somewhere?
– Without saying anything? When she was finally going to be allowed to have Victoria stay overnight with her? She was looking forward to it like mad.
Axel didn’t say what he was thinking. Former drug addict, suddenly disappears.
– I know something’s happened to her. All this that’s been going on…
Miriam sat on the sofa, wrapped a blanket around herself.
– You’re thinking of the two women who were murdered, said Axel. – All that stuff in the papers, warnings about not going out alone.
She bit her lip.
– It’s as if it’s got something to do with me.
– We always think that way when we’re afraid, he reassured her. – There’s not a single person in the whole city who isn’t affected.
– It’s something else…
She reached her hand out to him. He leaned over her.
– I want you to lie down beside me, she whispered. – I want you to hold me. As tight as you can.