‘Elvis has left the building.’
‘Eh?’
‘Jonny Faremo gave me the finger and walked out a free man. Because his sister, the little bit of fluff you’ve fallen for, alleges she was with her brother and the others in the flat at the time Arnfinn Haga was killed.’ The last word was delivered with a yell to drown the tram as it rumbled past.
Frølich waited for the din to subside. ‘She said she was in the flat with her brother and two others – after she was with me?’
‘Yes.’
‘She sneaks out of my flat while I’m asleep, wanders off in the middle of the night, to her place where her brother, Rognstad and this Ballo are, then they party until dawn?’
‘Don’t you two talk to each other, Frølich?’
Frølich didn’t know what to say.
Gunnarstranda continued: ‘Jonny Faremo, Jim Rognstad and Vidar Ballo and your… sweetheart… were playing poker in their flat. She also mentioned your name.’
Frølich felt his face go numb. ‘Me?’
‘She went into juicy detail about her night with you – prior to this round of poker.’
Frølich could still hear an echo in his head of his pathetic ‘Me?’
The silence between them grew. People passed them in both directions. A taxi trundled slowly by. The driver looked up at them questioningly.
Frølich said: ‘You don’t buy the story about the poker game?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Why wasn’t I called in as a witness?’
‘Would you have been able to say when she left?’ Gunnarstranda’s tone was acid.
‘Listen,’ Frølich said, annoyed. ‘I don’t like this any more than you do.’
‘I doubt that.’
‘I don’t understand why the judge accepted her testimony. It seems bloody unlikely.’
‘Could you have refuted it?’
‘No.’
‘So why should I have called you as a witness? I have no idea whether the judge believed her. The point is that her testimony denies us a reasonable cause for suspicion and hence their release is a clear sign to me: before the next round, produce more evidence against the Faremo gang or undermine Elisabeth Faremo’s testimony.’
‘What time of night are we actually talking about?’
Gunnarstranda took a deep breath.
‘What’s up?’
‘Pull yourself together, Frølich.’
‘Eh?’
‘You’re the one having a relationship with this woman! You’re the one who has been to bed with her. And you stand there like a donkey asking me about times. I don’t recognize you. Have a break. Go on holiday, take time off. You’ve been – excuse my French – humping the sister of a hardened criminal… for how long? For weeks? As far as I know, it might be all love and sweet music, but you’re a policeman for Christ’s sake. It might be a set-up. If you can’t see that, it’s my job to point out the possibility. Soon the whole force will see it. And then you’ll be suspended. And you can imagine how they will formulate the suspension, can’t you? That route is no good for you or me or the force. So, move out of the way of the elephants coming thundering around the bend. If you don’t move, you’ll be trampled underfoot. And whatever happens, you could do with a holiday. You’re a fucking shadow of yourself, man!’
Frank Frølich looked the other man in the eye. ‘What are you talking about? A set-up?’
‘The woman must have had something going right from the off.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘You told me you protected her – in Badir’s shop – got her out of the way when the police went into action?’
‘No one knew about the operation. Her going into the shop was a glitch. Chance.’
‘Fine, she entered the shop quite by chance. But then – during the shooting and while the crazy guys were being nicked – you say she was stuffing cigarettes into her rucksack? She must have been doing that to get you interested.’
‘I haven’t the slightest idea why she was doing that.’
‘Remember, she doesn’t have a record. But when the bullets fly and she is lying underneath a cop on the shop floor, she starts pinching stuff – isn’t that a bit odd?’
Frølich was sweating. ‘It might be odd, I don’t know.’
‘Just use your head. You’re in deep shit.’
‘But if this is all calculated and planned, I don’t understand why. Was she supposed to go around selling her body for months, making the wildest plans with me, in order to give her brother an alibi for killing a security guard in the harbour? My God, Arnfinn Haga, a twenty-two-year-old student working as a guard to earn some money on the side. Can’t you see that a conspiracy theory is completely absurd!’
‘So you think she’s in love with you and the business with her brother is pure chance, do you?’
‘Yes, in fact I do.’
‘Frølich, how long have we worked together now?’
‘A lot too long.’
‘Yes, probably, but we’ve muddled our way through quite a few cases. And even if no two cases are alike, a number of things about this one stink.’
‘Right!’ Frølich cut in. ‘But it’s also possible!’
‘What’s possible?’
‘It’s possible she had honourable intentions!’
‘Frølich! Stop being so bloody naive! There’s something not quite kosher about this bit of skirt. It doesn’t matter which way you look at every single bit of what you’ve told me, it all boils down to a con.’
Gunnarstranda moved off. He strode briskly along the pavement. Frølich caught up with him and said, ‘OK, let’s say you’re right. She did have something going. If you’re so damned sure, what was she after, then? What was she planning on the shop floor? If this is not about the murder of the Securitas guard, what is it about then? Is it about getting me into deep water? There must be easier ways of causing me trouble than to start killing people. You must be able to see that. The only thing she has achieved is to put me in a spot of bother with some colleagues who are wondering now about my judgement – and what would be the point of that? Well? Can you tell me?’
‘No.’
‘So, why the hassle?’
Gunnarstranda stopped again. He glared at the other man with ice-cold eyes. ‘I’m not hassling anyone. I never do. You’re the one following me. You’re the one doing the hassling. We both know that the main suspects left court free men and your name was used in the trial to achieve that outcome. That means – if you have to have it spelt out for you – you cannot continue with this investigation. I’ll investigate the murder of Arnfinn Haga now without your help. If I were you, I would do two things: first, take a week off to avoid a blemish on your record. Next, I would have a chat with the girl. You owe that to yourself and your future, and not least the girl herself – if she really does have honourable intentions. And now you’ll have to excuse me. I have a job to do.’
Frank Frølich watched him go. Gunnarstranda’s open coat flapped like a cape in his wake.
Time off? Suspension? The words ricocheted through his brain. The blood in his ears pounded. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a mobile phone.
He rang Elisabeth Faremo’s number. There was no answer.
He stood looking at the phone. Nothing. Because she didn’t answer. That had never happened before. He tried again. Again no answer. He tried a third time. Her phone was switched off.
8
Three hours later he had treated himself to a week off and was sitting in his car on the road up to Ekeberg Ridge. He drove onto the roof which formed the car park for the flats beneath. A staircase led downwards, beside the building complex. One landing for every floor. Every landing led to two entrances. He found the door to Jonny and Elisabeth Faremo’s flat. Rang the bell but nothing happened. He listened. No padding feet could be heard behind the door. Everything was dead, dark and still. The only thing to be heard was the engine of a crane which barely drowned the usual drone of traffic in the streets below. The icy air, which until now had wrapped itself around his body like a cool skin, suddenly penetrated his clothes and made him shiver.