Hans Lahlum - Chameleon People

‘The audacity of this accusation leaves the vice-ambassador speechless and dry-mouthed. He hopes that the police realize that any kind of police operation against the embassy would provoke strong reactions from the Soviet Union and considerable attention in other countries, and that it would have very negative consequences for those responsible on the Norwegian side.’

I worried that my boss would contradict me, but he sat there, calm as ever. So I hurried on.

‘That would certainly be the case if the police, after searching the embassy, did not have any evidence of serious criminal activity on the embassy’s part. But it would be a very different matter if the police did find evidence that employees of the embassy had committed a serious crime. That would also draw a lot of attention and could have very negative consequences for those responsible on the Soviet side – regardless of whether they knew about the matter or not.’

I was pushing my luck, hinting that we had evidence that we did not have. But I was now totally convinced that it was true. And this was reinforced when the interpreter again hesitated and the vice-ambassador again was silent for a few seconds after listening to the translation.

‘The vice-ambassador denies any knowledge of the matter, and stills finds it hard to believe that anything like this could happen without him knowing about it. But given the seriousness of the matter, he will of course investigate. If the police have any evidence of criminal activity, he hopes that the police might be able to tell him where in the embassy the kidnapped person might be hidden.’

‘In the basement,’ I replied, short and sweet, having first listened to the translation.

I felt an almost wild sense of triumph go to my head. Time stopped again. The vice-ambassador looked straight at me and raised his eyebrows in his otherwise stony face in something that resembled both surprise and fear. He downed the other half of his glass of vodka and when he spoke again, it was more slowly and in a quieter voice. The interpreter also dropped her voice in line with his.

‘The vice-ambassador hopes that it will transpire that no one in the embassy has betrayed its trust and that the young woman will turn up alive and unharmed sometime this evening… and, if this was to happen, he hopes that the investigation could soon be closed.’

An enormous cloud of relief enveloped me. Miriam was alive and unharmed. And our game of chess was definitely about to turn in my favour. My opponent on the other side of the table was no longer thinking about how to avoid losing, but instead how he could disguise it.

I turned and looked over at my boss. Luckily, he was on the ball.

‘If the missing young lady comes back unharmed this evening, there is every reason to believe that the investigation into that part of the case will be closed.’

Without any hesitation, Danielsen nodded in agreement. As did I.

The vice-ambassador thought about it for a few seconds more, then took two more slugs of vodka from the interpreter’s glass. Followed by another short volley.

‘As far as the death of our colleague is concerned, the vice-ambassador is still very saddened. He does, however, fully understand that it can be difficult to solve murders that are committed in public places, and would not criticize the Norwegian police in any way if this should prove to be the case.’

It was a cunning, fast move. The offer of understanding was in practice a suggestion that the investigation would be closed without finding the murderer. But it was hard to give a negative response.

My boss said: ‘Thank you.’ And we all nodded.

At the same time, I thought about the interpreter who had sat here with us the day before and who had been shot in front of my very eyes this morning. It did not sit comfortably. But we had absolutely no evidence in connection with her death. And my picture of the interpreter, who I had only met briefly and did not know, faded as soon as I thought of my fiancée. Tatiana was a foreigner with no family in Norway, who was now gone forever. Miriam was Norwegian, she had family here – and apparently she was alive.

The vice-ambassador nodded gravely – and then fired another round.

‘On another note: the vice-ambassador has the impression that the embassy is now under police surveillance, no doubt with the best intentions after today’s murder. However, the vice-ambassador finds this troubling. Would it be possible to have the surveillance lifted from this evening? The vice-ambassador hopes that it might help to resolve the matter in the best way for everyone.’

The message was clear: the embassy wanted to ensure that the coast was clear to remove something or someone from the premises. It could well be that they wished to transport the man who had committed the murder, but it was also likely that they were looking for a way to release Miriam without creating a scandal.

I was not aware that the embassy was under surveillance, and I could not assess the implications of the question.

Danielsen and I both looked at our boss, who once again was quick to respond.

‘It is a routine procedure when a foreign national is attacked in this way that extra measures are put in place to safeguard the embassy. If the embassy so wishes, we can certainly lift the measure temporarily – between, say, seven and nine o’clock this evening.’

The ambassador did not say any more after listening to the translation. He just held out his hand – first to me, then to my boss, and then Danielsen. Then he stood up to leave.

I felt intoxicated with relief and perhaps emboldened, given these latest developments. And so I played my final card, with the vice-ambassador towering above me.

‘One last thing regarding the murder of Fredriksen, which it is in everyone’s interest to wrap up as quickly as possible: if we can arrest the person responsible, we will of course then confirm that the murder is in no way connected to the Soviet Embassy. Sometimes embassy staff at various levels can be ordered abroad at short notice. We have reason to believe that the person we discussed when we were here last, might coincidently have been at the scene of the crime, without necessarily having anything to do with the murder. But we do have reason to believe that he was there, and therefore need a statement from him about what he saw.’

It was a daring move. But before I had a chance to be frightened myself, it proved to be a trump card in every sense. The vice-ambassador stood there without saying a word, swaying unsteadily.

It crossed my mind that he also might be a man of many faces. Perhaps he also had a wife and children, or fiancée, whom he missed. And perhaps the pressure on him had been greater than the pressure on me. If I had just risked my job for the case, it could be that he had risked both his freedom and his life.

I had time to think all this because he hesitated again – and still did not answer. He nodded down at me, shook my hand again and then walked out with quick heavy steps.

We sat in silence even after he had left the room, until the new interpreter stood up and said: ‘I can follow you out.’

The glasses and cakes on our side of the table were untouched, and yet it felt like we had had a lot to chew on.

The new interpreter followed us to the main entrance, but remained inside herself. I had barely noticed that she was there. All of a sudden I started to wonder what she made of it all. But as soon as she was out of sight, it left my mind. I had too many other people to worry about – alive and dead, but most of all, one who had disappeared.

We said nothing until we were in the safety of the car. As he turned on the engine, my boss said: ‘Congratulations once again, Kristiansen. That was a daring and impressive performance in what was a critical situation. Your theory proved to be right. I think you will have your fiancée back this evening and we got as much as we could have hoped for from the situation. We can get on with our jobs and the investigation, and leave the politicians to assess the consequences for them.’