Harry Hole Oslo Sequence 10 - Police

draw such a categorical and premature conclusion, so I read the whole article. The journalist wrote that the murder had all the classic features: the homosexual who exhibits his leanings so provocatively is picked up, driven to some out-of-the-way place where he is subjected to ritual, frenzied violence. The murderer has a gun, but it’s not enough to shoot Kalsnes straight away, his face has to be obliterated first. He has to give vent to his homophobia by smashing the far too attractive, effeminate face, doesn’t he? It’s premeditated, it’s planned and it’s a homo murder – that was the journalist’s conclusion. And do you know what, Harry? I don’t think it’s an unreasonable conclusion.’
    ‘Mm. If it’s a “homo murder”, as you call it, it definitely doesn’t fit in. There’s nothing to suggest that any of the other murder victims were gay, neither the original ones nor the officers.’
    ‘Maybe not. But there is something interesting here. You said the Kalsnes case was the only one that linked all the murdered policemen, didn’t you?’
    ‘With such a small circle of detectives it’s often the same people, Arnold, so that doesn’t make it much of a coincidence.’
    ‘Nevertheless, I have a hunch it’s important.’
    ‘You’ve got your head in the clouds now, Arnold.’
    The red-bearded man sat up with an injured expression. ‘Did I say something wrong?’
    ‘“I have a hunch”? I’ll tell you when you’ve reached the point when your hunches are an argument.’
    ‘Because not many of us reach that point?’
    ‘Exactly. Go on, but keep your feet on the ground, OK.’
    ‘OK. But might I perhaps be allowed to say that I have a hunch you agree with me?’
    ‘Maybe.’
    ‘Then I’ll take a punt and suggest you employ all of your resources to find out who killed the homosexual officer. The worst that can happen is that you solve one case. The best is that you solve all the police murders as well.’
    ‘Mm.’ Harry finished his coffee and got up. ‘Thank you, Arnold.’
    ‘Thank you . Unlicensed policemen like me are happy just to be listened to, you know. Speaking of which, I met Silje Gravseng in reception earlier today. She was handing in her pass. She was . . . something.’
    ‘Student rep.’
    ‘Yes. Whatever, she asked after you. I didn’t say anything. Then she said you were a fake. Your boss had told her it wasn’t true that you had a hundred per cent clear-up rate. Gusto Hanssen, she said. Is that true?’
    ‘Mm. Sort of.’
    ‘Sort of? What does that mean?’
    ‘I investigated the case and never arrested anyone. How did she seem?’
    Arnold Folkestad pinched one eye shut and looked at Harry as if he were aiming a weapon at him, searching his face.
    ‘Who knows. She’s an odd girl, Silje Gravseng. She invited me to do some shooting practice in Økern. Just like that, out of the blue.’
    ‘Mm. And what did you answer?’
    ‘I blamed my poor eyesight and the shakes. I said, and it’s true, I would have to have the target half a metre in front of me to be sure of hitting anything. She accepted that, but afterwards I wondered why she would go to a firing range when she no longer needed to pass the police firearms test.’
    ‘Well,’ Harry said, ‘sometimes people just like shooting for shooting’s sake.’
    ‘It’s up to them,’ Arnold said, getting up. ‘But she looked good, it has to be said.’
    Harry watched his colleague hobble out of the door. Mused, then found the number for the Police Chief in Nedre Eiker. Afterwards he sat chewing over what she’d said. It was true that Bertil Nilsen had not been part of the investigation into René Kalsnes’s death in the neighbouring municipality of Drammen. On the other hand, he had been on duty when they had received the call telling them there was a car in the river near Eikersaga and had turned out when it was unclear whose jurisdiction it was. She also told him the Drammen police and Kripos had read them the riot act because Nilsen had churned up the soft ground where they might otherwise have found good tyre tracks. ‘So you might say he had an indirect effect on the investigation.’
    It was almost ten o’clock, and the sun had long gone down behind the green hill to the west when Ståle Aune parked his car in the garage and walked up the gravel path to his house. He noticed there was no light on in the kitchen or the living room. Nothing unusual about that. She often went to bed early.
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