Harry Hole Oslo Sequence 10 - Police

now.
    Suspended.
    Truls grinned at the notion and raised his coffee cup to toast himself in the reflection from the sunglasses he had put on the table in front of him. Then realised he must have laughed out loud, because the Thais were sending him strange looks.
    ‘I don’t know if I can pick you up from the airport,’ Harry said, walking past the place where there should have been a park, but the council in a collective aberration had erected a prison-like sports stadium for an international event being arranged for this year, but otherwise not too much happened.
    He had to press the phone to his ear to hear her above the noise of rush-hour traffic.
    ‘I forbid you to pick me up,’ Rakel said. ‘You have more important things to do now. In fact, I was wondering whether I should stay here this weekend, and give you a bit of space.’
    ‘Space for what?’
    ‘Space to be Inspector Hole. It’s sweet of you to pretend I wouldn’t get under your feet, but we both know the state you get in when you’re on a case.’
    ‘I want you to be here. But if you don’t want—’
    ‘I want to be with you all the time, Harry. I want to sit on you so that you can’t go anywhere, that’s what I want. But I don’t think the Harry I want to spend my life with is at home right now.’
    ‘I like you sitting on me. And I’m not going anywhere.’
    ‘That’s exactly the point. We’re not going anywhere. We’ve got all the time in the world. OK?’
    ‘OK.’
    ‘Fine.’
    ‘Sure? Because if it would make you happier if I nagged you a bit more, I would gladly do it.’
    Her laughter. Just that.
    ‘And Oleg?’
    She told him. He smiled a couple of times. Laughed at least once.
    ‘I have to go now,’ Harry said, standing in front of the door to Schrøder’s.
    ‘OK. What sort of meeting is it, by the way?’
    ‘Rakel . . .’
    ‘Yes, I know I shouldn’t ask. It’s just so boring here. Harry?’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘Do you love me?’
    ‘I love you.’
    ‘I can hear traffic, so does that mean you’re in a public place and you’ve said you love me out loud?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Did people turn their heads?’
    ‘I wasn’t looking.’
    ‘Would it be childish of me to ask you to do it again?’
    ‘Yes.’
    More laughter. Christ, he would do anything to hear it.
    ‘So?’
    ‘I love you, Rakel Fauke.’
    ‘And I love you, Harry Hole. I’ll call you tomorrow.’
    ‘Say hello to Oleg.’
    They rang off. Harry opened the door and went in.
    Silje Gravseng was sitting alone at a table by the window, Harry’s old table. The red skirt and the red blouse stood out like fresh blood against the big old paintings of Oslo on the wall behind her. Only her mouth was redder.
    Harry sat down opposite her.
    ‘Hi,’ he said.
    ‘Hi,’ she said.

38
    ‘ THANKS FOR COMING at such short notice,’ Harry said.
    ‘I arrived half an hour ago,’ Silje said, nodding towards the empty glass in front of her.
    ‘Am I . . .?’ Harry started, looking at his watch.
    ‘Not at all. I just couldn’t wait.’
    ‘Harry?’
    He looked up. ‘Hi, Rita. Nothing today.’
    The waitress left.
    ‘Busy?’ Silje asked. She was sitting very straight in her chair, in a red dress with her arms crossed beneath her bosom and a face that kept changing from pretty and doll-like to something else, something nigh on ugly. The only thing that was constant was the intensity of her gaze. Harry had a feeling that you ought to be able to see every little swing of mood or emotion in that gaze. He must have been blind. Because all he could see was the intensity, nothing else. The desire for God knows what. Because it was not just about what she wanted, one night, one hour, a ten-minute rape-simulated fuck, it wasn’t that simple.
    ‘I wanted to talk to you because you were on duty at the Rikshospital.’
    ‘I’ve already spoken to the police about it.’
    ‘About what?’
    ‘About Anton Mittet telling me something before he was killed. About arguing with someone or being in a relationship with someone at the hospital. But I told them this wasn’t some isolated murder with a jealous husband, this was the cop killer. It all added up, didn’t it? I’ve read a lot about serial killings, as you probably noticed during the lectures.’
    ‘There aren’t any lectures about serial killings, Silje. I was wondering if you saw anyone coming or going while you sat there, someone or something that didn’t tally with the routines, that made you sit up, in brief