Harry Hole Oslo Sequence 10 - Police

be convicted.’
    ‘What you were after was extreme schizophrenia, psychosis, at the time of the act and so on, wasn’t it?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘But he could have been a manic-depressive or a psychopath. Correction, bipolar II or a sociopath.’
    ‘The correct term now is dissocial.’ Ståle accepted the cigarette Harry passed him.
    Harry lit them both. ‘It’s good he goes to you even though he knows you work for the cops. But that he continues even after realising you’re involved in the hunt for him?’
    Ståle inhaled and shrugged. ‘I must be such a brilliant therapist he was willing to take the risk.’
    ‘Any other suggestions?’
    ‘Well, maybe he’s a thrill-seeker. Lots of serial killers have visited detectives under a variety of pretexts to be in close contact with the hunt, to experience the triumph of fooling the police.’
    ‘Valentin took off his T-shirt even though he must have known you knew about the tattoo. A terrible risk if you’re under investigation for murder.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Hm, yes, what do I mean?’
    ‘You mean he has an unconscious desire to be caught. He wanted me to recognise him. And when I failed he unconsciously helped me by revealing his tattoo.’
    ‘And when he achieved his objective, he made a desperate attempt to flee?’
    ‘The conscious took over. This could put the police murders in a new light, Harry. Valentin’s murders are compulsive acts which, unconsciously, he wants to stop, he wants punishment, or exorcism, someone to stop the demon in him. So when we didn’t manage to catch him for the original murders, he does what many serial killers do, he increases the risk factor. In his case, by targeting the police who couldn’t catch him the first time round because he knows that for a crime against the police there is no limit to resources. And in the end he shows his tattoo to someone he knows is part of the investigation. I think you may well be right, Harry.’
    ‘Mm, don’t know if I can take the credit for it. What about a simpler explanation? Valentin isn’t as careful as we think he should be because he doesn’t have as much to fear as we think he does.’
    ‘I don’t understand.’
    Harry drew on his cigarette. Released the smoke as he inhaled it through his nose. It was a trick he’d been taught by a milky-white German didgeridoo player in Hong Kong: ‘Exhale and inhale at the same fucking time, mate, and you can smoke your cigarettes twice.’
    ‘Go home and have a rest,’ Harry said. ‘That was a tough deal.’
    ‘Thank you, but I’m the psychologist here, Harry.’
    ‘A murderer holding a knife to your throat? Sorry, Doc, but you’re not going to be able to rationalise that away. The nightmares queue up – believe me, I’ve been there. So take it from a colleague. And that’s an order.’
    ‘An order?’ A twitch in Ståle’s face suggested a smile. ‘Are you the boss now, Harry?’
    ‘Were you ever in any doubt?’ Harry groped in his pocket. Took out his phone. ‘Yes?’
    He dropped the half-smoked cigarette on the ground. ‘Will you sort it for me? They’ve found something.’
    Ståle Aune watched Harry as he went through the door. Then he looked down at the smouldering cigarette on the tarmac. Gently placed his shoe on it. Increased the pressure. Turned his foot. Felt the cigarette being squashed under the thin leather sole. Felt the fury rising. Twisted it harder. Ground the filter, ash, paper and tobacco into the tarmac. Dropped his own cigarette. Repeated the movements. It felt good and bad at the same time. Felt like screaming, hitting, laughing, crying. He had tasted every nuance in the cigarette. He was alive. He was so bloody alive.
    ‘Casbah Hotel in Gange-Rolvs gate,’ Katrine said before Harry had closed the door behind him. ‘It’s mostly embassies who use the hotel for employees before getting them longer-term accommodation. Pretty reasonable rates, small rooms.’
    ‘Mm. Why this hotel in particular?’
    ‘It’s the only hotel which has these Q-tips delivered and is situated on the right side of town for the number 12 tram,’ Bjørn said. ‘I rang. They haven’t got any Stavnes, Gjertsen or Johansen registered in the guest book, but I faxed Beate’s drawing.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘The receptionist said they’ve got someone like him, someone called Savitski who claimed he worked at the Belarusian embassy. He used to go to work wearing a suit, but now he’s started wearing training