Harry Hole Oslo Sequence 10 - Police

said.
    ‘And since he’s been given the entertaining side of the subject, naturally he’s the more popular of us two,’ Folkestad growled. ‘While I have to bring them down to earth with methodology, forensics, ethics and regulations. The world is unjust.’
    ‘On the other hand, Arnold knows a bit about pedagogy,’ Harry said.
    ‘The whelp’s making progress,’ Folkestad chortled.
    Harry frowned. ‘This visitor, it’s not . . .?’
    ‘Relax, it’s not frøken Silje Gravseng, just old colleagues. I gave them some coffee.’
    Harry eyed Katrine sharply. Then he turned and marched towards the door. Katrine and Folkestad watched him leave.
    ‘Er, did I say something wrong?’ Folkestad asked in amazement.
    ‘I know this might be construed as a pincer movement strategy,’ Beate said, lifting the cup of coffee to her mouth.
    ‘Do you mean by that it’s not a pincer movement?’ Harry said, leaning back on his chair as far as it was possible to go in the tiny office. On the other side of the desk, behind the towering piles of paper, Beate Lønn, Bjørn Holm and Katrine Bratt were squeezed into chairs. The round of greetings was soon over. Brief handshakes, no hugs. No clumsy attempts at small talk. Harry Hole was not the type. Harry Hole was the type to get to the point. And, of course, they knew he already knew what that was.
    Beate took a sip, winced inevitably and put the cup down with a disapproving mien.
    ‘I know you’ve made up your mind not to do any more active investigation,’ Beate said. ‘And I also know you have better reason than most. The question, however, is whether you can make an exception here or not. You are, after all, our sole specialist in serial killings. The state invested money and trained you with the FBI—’
    ‘—which, as you know, I paid back with blood, sweat and tears,’ Harry broke in. ‘And not just my own blood and tears.’
    ‘I haven’t forgotten that Rakel and Oleg ended up in the firing line on the Snowman case, but—’
    ‘The answer’s no,’ Harry said. ‘I’ve promised Rakel that none of us will go back there. And for once I intend to keep a promise.’
    ‘How’s Oleg?’ Beate asked.
    ‘Better,’ Harry said, keeping a weather eye on her. ‘As you know, he’s in a detox clinic in Switzerland.’
    ‘I’m glad to hear that. And Rakel got the job in Geneva?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Does she commute?’
    ‘Four days in Geneva, three at home. It’s good for Oleg to have his mother close by.’
    ‘I can understand that,’ Beate said. ‘In a way they’re out of every firing line there, aren’t they? And you’re alone during the week. Days when you can do what you like.’
    Harry laughed quietly. ‘My dear Beate, perhaps I didn’t make myself clear enough. This is what I want. To lecture. To pass on my knowledge.’
    ‘Ståle Aune’s with us,’ Katrine said.
    ‘Good for him,’ Harry said. ‘And for you. He knows as much about serial murders as I do.’
    ‘Sure he doesn’t know more?’ Katrine said with a hint of a smile and a raised eyebrow.
    Harry laughed. ‘Nice try, Katrine. OK. He knows more.’
    ‘My God,’ Katrine said, ‘what’s happened to your competitive streak?’
    ‘The combination of you three and Ståle Aune is the best possible start for this case. I have another lecture, so . . .’
    Katrine slowly shook her head. ‘What’s happened to you, Harry?’
    ‘Good things,’ Harry said. ‘Good things have happened to me.’
    ‘Message received and understood,’ Beate said, getting up. ‘But I’d still like to ask if we can consult you now and then.’
    She saw he was going to shake his head. ‘Don’t answer no,’ she hastened to add. ‘I’ll ring you later.’
    In the corridor, three minutes later, as Harry was striding towards the auditorium, where the students had already gathered, it struck Beate that perhaps it was true, perhaps the love of a woman could save a man. And she doubted in this case that another woman’s sense of duty would be enough to whisk him back into the jaws of hell. But that was her task. He had looked shockingly healthy and happy. She would so much have liked to let him go. But she knew they would soon reappear, the ghosts of colleagues that had been killed. And she formulated the next thought: they won’t be the last.
    She rang Harry as soon as she was back in the Boiler Room.
    Rico Herrem woke with a start.
    He blinked in the darkness until his eyes could focus on the white