Henning pauses.
‘What happened?’ Ulrik asks.
‘Well, I went over to it and picked it up. I saw that it had broken its leg, poor thing, so I put a splint on it. Do you know what that means?’
They both shake their heads.
‘It means making sure the fractured bone is kept completely rigid. So it has a chance to heal.’
Henning looks at them.
‘I couldn’t just leave it there. Some cat would have got it.’
The boys nod. Henning stretches out on the ground even though it is damp. He stares up at the ominous grey sky, which will soon turn black. He stays where he is. Right until Ulrik says: ‘I saw a dead person yesterday.’
Henning tries not to lift his head too quickly.
‘Did you?’
Ulrik nods.
‘It was an old lady in a care home.’
Henning sits up and leans forward across his knees. His heart starts to beat faster and he has to force himself to stay calm.
‘She just sat there in her wheelchair. It was really gross.’
Henning waits until the boy looks at him. Then he nods without saying anything.
‘I had been to see her the day before and she told me that she was scared.’
Henning is sorely tempted to bombard the boy with questions, but he manages to restrain himself.
‘And she sat like this,’ Ulrik says, holding up an index finger. ‘Pointing at the wall.’
‘At a picture or something?’ Henning tries.
The boy nods.
‘And she kept saying: “Fractions. Fractions. Fractions.”’
Ulrik imitates her crow-like voice.
‘Fractions?’
The boy nods.
‘What a strange thing to say,’ Henning remarks.
‘That’s what I thought.’
‘Was that all she said?’
‘Yes. And when I came to see her the next day, she was dead.’
Henning can no longer control himself.
‘Was anyone else there?’
Ulrik shakes his head.
‘Did you see anyone else who had been to her room?’
Same response.
Hm, Henning says to himself. Interesting.
He thinks about the photograph of Tom Sverre Pedersen and his family, the photograph that had been smashed. Surely she couldn’t have been pointing at that? What connection could there be between a family photo and some fractions? After all Tom Sverre Pedersen is a doctor, not a teacher.
So what was she pointing at?
Chapter 34
The stone troll in Daniel Nielsen’s flat proved to be free from dents and scratches, exactly as Bjarne had predicted. Before they entered the flat, Nielsen told them that it had been a present from Sund’s son; he got it a couple of weeks ago after the boy had made several stone trolls in a science lesson after a school trip. Nielsen also confirmed that Ulrik had given one to Erna Pedersen as a thank you for all the toffees she had given him.
They found nothing else of interest in Nielsen’s flat, only signs of a family-free life. Nor did his finances suggest anything other than his income was his monthly salary from Oslo City Council and that he had bills to pay like everybody else.
They are currently checking all his electronic traffic, but something tells Bjarne that it’s a dead end as well.
He is about to get back in his car when his mobile rings for the umpteenth time today. It’s Henning Juul. Bjarne looks around. Ella Sandland is still inside Nielsen’s flat so he takes the call.
‘How many pictures were on the wall in Erna Pedersen’s room?’
‘Eh?’
Henning repeats the question.
‘Why do you want to know that?’
‘I might have something for you. But first answer my question.’
Bjarne sighs.
‘None. That’s to say there had been a picture, but someone had torn it down.’
‘Was that a photo of Tom Sverre Pedersen and his family?’
Bjarne freezes.
‘How the hell do you know that?’
‘Take another look at the wall. See if you can find anything to suggest there might have been other pictures.’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘Because I think you’re missing one.’
Bjarne hangs up after talking to Henning and immediately calls Daniel Nielsen. This time he fully expects Nielsen to pick up – even though he is at work. It takes only a couple of seconds before Bjarne is proved right.
He tells Nielsen about the evidence – or lack of – in Nielsen’s flat.
‘That’s what I kept telling you.’
‘I know, but we still had to check it out. However, I want to talk to you about something else. You’re very interested in photography, aren’t you? I noticed that you have a lot of pictures on your walls at home.’
‘Yes, I suppose I do,’ Nielsen replies unwillingly.
‘And no one went to Erna Pedersen’s room more often than you in the last few months?’
‘No, that’s… probably true.’
Bjarne waits a moment before he continues.
‘If I were to say there were two photographs on her wall, next to the chest of drawers – what would you say?’
There is silence for a few seconds.
‘That you would be right. Or at least there used to be two until recently.’
Bjarne sticks a finger in his ear to block out the background noise.
‘What do you mean?’
‘When I started looking after Erna Pedersen, there was only one picture on the wall, a photograph. But not all that long ago a second photograph appeared. Why do you ask about that?’
Bjarne makes eye contact with Ella Sandland, who realises the conversation is important. She comes up to him.
‘I want you to think carefully, Nielsen. One photo was Erna Pedersen’s son and his family. The other one – do you remember what kind of picture it was?’
‘It was a school photo,’ Nielsen replies immediately.
Sandland makes a what’s going on movement with her head, but Bjarne ignores her.
‘A school photo?’
‘Yes, you know – a typical group photo of everyone in the same class.’
‘Aha?’ Bjarne says.
‘But it was taken quite a few years ago.’
Bjarne nods while he thinks about Erna Pedersen again. She was a teacher and she muttered something about fractions before she was killed. And someone recently put up an old school photo on her wall, a picture that wasn’t there after she died. Which means it’s highly likely that the killer took it with him.
Why on earth would he want to do that?
Tuesday
Chapter 35
The press release had been sent by fax late last night and it caused frantic activity in every newspaper office, both before and after their deadlines. The first paper versions hitting the streets of Norway didn’t have time to include the news that a young Labour politician had made contact with every editor in the country, but that was about to change.
Fresh editions with new front pages went to press; a few newspapers also increased the number of pages to give both the press release and various follow-up articles sufficient space as it had now become obvious that it was going to be the story of the week. In the press release the unnamed young man announced that it would be his final word on the matter. He doesn’t want a sexual assault by one of the country’s best-known politicians to be brought up every time he himself features in the media as he has major political ambitions of his own. Nevertheless, in his statement he challenges the Secretary of State for Justice and he also gives a brief summary of the incident.