‘So it wasn’t Valentin Gjertsen or Lenny Hell?’
‘No. All we know is that it’s a man, and he isn’t related to Lenny Hell.’
‘Could have been someone working there?’ Oleg said. ‘An electrician, a plumber, someone like that?’
‘True,’ Harry said, and his gaze fell on the copy of Dagbladet that lay open in front of him, and a portrait of Bellman, who was about to take over as Justice Minister. He read the caption again: ‘I’m particularly pleased that the persistence and tireless work of the police enabled us to find Marte Ruud. The family and the police both deserved that. And that makes it easier for me to leave my post as Police Chief.’
‘I have to go now, guys.’
They left Police College together and just as they were about to go their separate ways in front of Chateau Neuf Harry remembered the invitation.
‘Hallstein’s finished his vampirist dissertation, and the disputation is on Friday. We’ve been invited.’
‘Disputation?’
‘Oral exam with all your family and friends dressed up to the nines in the room,’ Jesus said. ‘Hard not to screw up.’
‘Your mum and I are going,’ Harry said. ‘I don’t know if you feel like it, or have time? Ståle’s one of his opponents.’
‘Wow!’ Oleg said. ‘Hope it’s not too early. I’m going to Ullevål on Friday.’
Harry frowned. ‘What for?’
‘It’s just Dr Steffens, he wants another blood sample. He says he’s researching a rare blood disorder called systemic mastocytosis, and that if that’s what Mum had, then her blood repaired itself.’
‘Mastocytosis?’
‘It’s caused by a genetic defect called c-kit mutation. It’s not hereditary, but Steffens is hoping that the substance in the blood that may help to repair it might be. So he wants some of my blood to compare it to Mum’s.’
‘So that’s the genetic link your mother was talking about?’
‘Steffens says he still thinks it was a case of poisoning, and that this is a shot in the dark. But that most big discoveries are just that. Shots in the dark.’
‘He’s right about that. The disputation is at two o’clock. There’s a reception afterwards you can go to if you like, but I’ll probably skip that.’
‘I’m sure you will,’ Oleg smiled, and turned to Jesus. ‘Harry doesn’t like people, you see.’
‘I do like people,’ Harry said. ‘I just don’t like being with them. Particularly not when there’s a lot of them at the same time.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Speaking of which.’
‘Sorry I’m late, private tutorial,’ Harry said, slipping behind the bar.
Øystein groaned as he put two glasses of beer down on the counter, spilling them as he did so. ‘Harry, we’ve got to get more people in here.’
Harry peered at the crowd filling the bar. ‘I think there are too many already.’
‘I mean on this side of the counter, you idiot.’
‘The idiot was joking. Do you know anyone with good taste in music?’
‘Tresko.’
‘Who isn’t autistic.’
‘No.’ Øystein poured the next beer and gestured to Harry to take payment.
‘OK, let’s think about it. So Hallstein looked in?’ Harry pointed at the St. Pauli hat that had been pulled down over a glass next to the Galatasaray banner.
‘Yes, he said thanks for the loan. He had a few foreign journalists with him, to show them the place where it all began. He’s having one of those doctor’s things the day after tomorrow.’
‘Disputation.’ Harry handed the customer his card back and thanked him.
‘Yeah. There was another guy who came over to them – Smith introduced him to the others as a colleague from Crime Squad.’
‘Oh?’ Harry said, taking the next order from a man with a hipster beard and a Cage the Elephant T-shirt. ‘What did he look like?’
‘Teeth,’ Øystein said, pointing to his own row of brown pegs.
‘Not Truls Berntsen, surely?’
‘Don’t know his name, but I’ve seen him here several times. Usually sits in that booth over there. Usually comes on his own.’
‘Bound to be Truls Berntsen.’
‘The women are all over him.’
‘Can’t be Truls Berntsen.’
‘But he still goes home alone. Weird bloke.’
‘Because he doesn’t take a woman home?’
‘Would you trust someone who turns down free cunt?’
The bearded hipster raised an eyebrow. Harry shrugged, put the beers in front of him, went over to the mirror and pulled on the St. Pauli hat. He was about to turn round again when he froze. He stood and looked at himself in the mirror, at the skull on his forehead.
‘Harry?’
‘Mm.’
‘Can you give me a hand here? Two mojitos with Sprite Light.’
Harry nodded slowly. Then he took the hat off, went round the bar and hurried for the door.
‘Harry!’
‘Call Tresko.’
‘Yes?’
‘Sorry to call so late, I thought maybe the Forensic Medical Institute was closed for the night.’
‘We’re supposed to be closed, but this is just how it is when you work in a place with a systemic lack of capacity. And you’re calling on the internal number that only the police are supposed to use.’
‘Yes, this is Harry Hole, I’m an inspector at—’
‘I know it’s you, Harry. This is Paula, and you’re not an inspector anywhere.’
‘Oh, it’s you. OK, I’m working on the vampirist case, that’s why I’m calling. I want you to check those matches you got for the samples from the water pipe.’
‘I wasn’t the person who did them, but let me look. But I should tell you that, apart from Valentin Gjertsen, I don’t have the names of the DNA profiles in the vampirist case, just numbers.’
‘That’s OK, I’ve got lists of names and numbers from all the crime scenes in front of me, so go ahead.’
Harry ticked them off as Paula read off the DNA profiles that matched. The sheriff, the local officer, Hole, Smith, Holm and his colleague from Forensics. And finally the seventh person.
‘Still no match there, then?’ Harry said.
‘No.’
‘What about the rest of Hell’s house, was any other DNA found that matched Valentin’s profile?’
‘Let’s see … No, it doesn’t look like it.’
‘Nothing on the mattress, the body, nothing to connect—?’
‘Nope.’
‘OK, Paula. Thanks.’
‘Speaking of connections, did you ever find out what was going on with that strand of hair?’
‘Strand of hair?’
‘Yes, last autumn. Wyller brought me a strand of hair and said it was something you wanted to have analysed. He probably thought it would get rushed through if he dropped your name.’
‘And was it?’
‘Of course, Harry – you know all the girls here have a soft spot for you.’
‘Isn’t that the sort of thing you say to very old men?’
Paula laughed. ‘That’s what happens when you get married, Harry. Voluntary castration.’
‘Hm. I found that strand of hair on the floor of the room my wife was in at Ullevål Hospital, it was probably just paranoia.’
‘I see. I assumed it couldn’t have been important seeing as Wyller told me to forget it. Were you worried your wife had a lover?’
‘Not really. Not until you just planted the idea, anyway.’
‘You men are so naive.’
‘That’s how we survive.’
‘But you’re not, are you? We’re taking over the planet, if you hadn’t noticed.’
‘Well, you’re working in the middle of the night, and that’s bloody weird. Goodnight, Paula.’
‘Goodnight.’
‘Hang on, Paula. Forget what?’