Jo Nesbo - The Redeemer

'Often?'

'According to Sofia he raped her for the first time one afternoon in the summer of last year. It happened in the Miholjec's family home while her parents were out. Jon went there under the pretext of examining the flat. After all, that was his job. Just as it was his job to decide who would be allowed to keep the flats.'

'You mean… he threatened her?'

Harry nodded. 'He said the family would be evicted and sent home if Sofia did not do as he ordered and keep their secret. The Miholjecs' fate rested on his, Jon's, discretion. And her compliance. The poor girl didn't dare do anything else. But when she became pregnant she had to find someone to help her. A friend she could trust, someone older who could organise an abortion without too many questions being asked.'

'Robert,' Martine said. 'My God. She went to Robert.'

'Yes. And even though she didn't say anything to him, she thought Robert knew it was Jon. I think so, too. Robert knew Jon had raped before, didn't he?'

Martine did not answer. Instead she coiled up on the sofa, drew her legs beneath her and wrapped her arms around her bare shoulders as if she were cold or wanted to disappear inside herself.

When Martine finally began to talk her voice was so low that Harry could hear the ticking of Moller's watch.

'I was fourteen. While he was doing it I lay there thinking that if I concentrated on the stars I would be able to see them through the roof.'

Harry listened as she spoke about the hot day in Ostgard, the game with Robert and Jon's reproving eyes that were dark with jealousy. And about when the door of the outside toilet opened and Jon stood there with his brother's jackknife. The rape and the pain afterwards as she was left crying while he went back to the house. And how incompre-hensible it was that the birds soon began to sing outside.

'But the worst was not the rape,' Martine said with a tear-filled voice but dry cheeks. 'The worst was that Jon knew. Knew he didn't even have to make threats to keep me silent. I would never squeal. He knew I knew that even if I produced my shredded clothes and was believed, there would always be a shadow of doubt regarding motive and guilt. And that it was about loyalty. Would I be the one, the daughter of the commander, to drag my parents and the whole Army into a ruinous scandal? All these years, whenever I've observed Jon, he's given me a look which says: "I know. I know how you shook with terror and cried quietly afterwards so that no one would hear you. I know and can see your mute cowardice every single day."' The first tear rolled down her cheek. 'And that's why I hate him so much. Not for raping me; I would have been able to forgive that. But for always going round showing me he knew.'

Harry went into the kitchen, tore off a paper towel from the roll, went back and sat down beside her.

'Watch your make-up,' he said passing her the towel. 'Prime Minister and all that.'

She dabbed carefully.

'Stankic has been to Ostgard,' Harry said. 'Was it you who took him there?'

'What are you talking about?'

'He's been there.'

'Why do you say that?'

'Because of the smell.'

'Smell?'

Harry nodded. 'A sweet, perfume-like smell. I recognised it the first time I opened the door to Stankic in Jon's flat. The second time when I was standing in his room in the Hostel. And the third time when I woke up in Ostgard this morning. The smell was in the blanket.' He studied Martine's keyhole-shaped pupils. 'Where is he, Martine?'

Martine stood up. 'Now I think you should go.'

'Answer me first.'

'I don't need to answer for something I haven't done.'

She had reached the living room door when Harry caught up with her. He stood in front of her and gripped her shoulders. 'Martine.. .'

'I have to go to a concert.'

'He killed one of my best friends, Martine.'

Her face was closed and hard as she replied. 'Perhaps he shouldn't have got in the way.'

Harry took his hands away as if burned. 'You can't just let Jon Karlsen be killed. What about forgiveness? Isn't that an intrinsic part of the business you're all in?'

'You're the one who thinks that people can change,' Martine said. 'Not me. And I don't know where Stankic is.'

Harry let her go; she went into the bathroom and closed the door. Harry stood waiting.

'And you're wrong about our line of business,' Martine called from behind the door. 'It's not about forgiveness. We're in the same business as everyone else. Redemption, right?'

Despite the cold, Rikard was standing outside the car leaning against the bonnet with his arms crossed. He didn't return Harry's nod as the police officer passed.

Monday, 22 December. The Exodus.

It was half past six in the evening, but there was feverish activity in Crime Squad.

Harry found Ola Li by the fax machine. He glanced at the sheet coming through. Sent by Interpol.

'What's going on, Ola?'

'Gunnar Hagen rang round and scrambled the department. Absolutely everyone is here. We're going to get the guy who got Halvorsen.'

There was a determination in Li's tone that Harry knew by instinct reflected the atmosphere on the sixth floor that evening.

Harry went into his office where Skarre was standing behind the desk speaking on the telephone, fast and in a loud voice.

'We can make more trouble for you and your boys than you imagine, Affi. If you don't help me by getting your boys on the street, you will shoot right up to first place on our most wanted list. Have I made myself clear? So: Croat, medium height-'

'Blond, crew cut,' Harry said.

Skarre looked up and sent Harry a nod. 'Blond crew cut. Call me back when you've got something.'

He put down the receiver. 'Total Band Aid atmosphere out there. Everything on two legs is ready to roll. I've never seen anything like it.'

'Mm,' Harry said. 'Still no sign of Jon Karlsen?'

'Zilch. All we know is that his girlfriend, Thea, says they agreed to meet this evening at the concert hall. They're supposed to be sitting in the VIP box.'

Harry consulted his watch. 'Then Stankic has an hour and a half to see if he can finish off the job.'

'How do you make that out?'

'I phoned the concert hall. All the tickets were sold out four weeks ago, and they won't let anyone in without a ticket, not even to the foyer. In other words, once Jon is inside he's safe. Ring and check whether Torkildsen is on tap at Telenor. If he is, ask him to trace Karlsen's mobile phone. Oh, and make sure we have enough police outside the concert hall, armed and with a description of Stankic. Then call the Prime Minister's Office and make them aware of the extra security measures.'

'Me?' Skarre said. 'The… Prime Minister's Office?'

'Do it,' Harry said. 'You're a big boy now.'

From the office telephone Harry called one of the six numbers he knew off by heart.

The other five were: Sis's, his parents' house in Oppsal, Halvorsen's mobile, Bjarne Moller's old private number and Ellen Gjelten's disconnected number.

'Rakel here.'

'It's me.' He heard an intake of breath.

'I thought so.'

'Why?'

'Because I was thinking about you.' She chuckled. 'That's just the way it is. Don't you think?'

Harry closed his eyes. 'I wondered about meeting Oleg tomorrow,' he said. 'As we discussed.'

'Great!' she said. 'He'll be so pleased. Will you come here and pick him up?' On hearing his hesitation, she added, 'We're alone.'

Harry both wanted and didn't want to ask what she meant by that.

'I'll try to be there around six,' he said.

According to Klaus Torkildsen, Jon Karlsen's mobile phone was located to the east of Oslo, in Haugerud or Hoybraten.

'That's not much help,' Harry said.

After pacing the floors for an hour, from office to office, to hear how the others were getting on, Harry put on his jacket and said he was off to the concert hall.