Jo Nesbo - Nemesis

'Mm,' Harry said.

'Many of my colleagues have undertaken research into why people commit suicide. Do you know what they found the most common cause was?'

'That was the sort of thing I was hoping you could answer.' Harry had to slalom between people on the narrow pavement to keep up with the tubby psychologist.

'That they didn't want to live any longer,' Aune said.

'Sounds like someone deserves a Nobel Prize.' Harry had rung Aune the evening before and arranged to pick him up at his office in Sporveisgata at nine. They passed the branch of Nordea Bank and Harry noticed that the green skip was still outside the 7-Eleven on the other side of the street.

'We often forget that the decision to commit suicide tends to be taken by rationally thinking, sane people who no longer consider that life has anything to offer,' Aune said. 'Old people who have lost their life's companion or whose health is failing, for example.'

'This woman was young and energetic. What rational grounds could she have had?'

'First of all, you have to define the meaning of rational. When someone who is depressed opts to escape from pain by taking their own life, you have to assume the distressed party has weighed up both sides. On the other hand, it is difficult to see suicide as rational in the typical scenario where the sufferer is on their way out of the trough, and only then finds the energy to perform the active deed which suicide is.'

'Can suicide be a completely spontaneous act?'

'Of course it can. It is more usual, however, for there to be attempts first, especially among women. In the USA there are calculated to be ten pseudo-suicide attempts among women for every one suicide.'

'Pseudo?'

'Taking five sleeping tablets is a cry for help, serious enough it's true, but I don't include it as a suicide attempt when a half-full bottle of pills is still on the bedside table.'

'This one shot herself.'

'A masculine suicide then.'

'Masculine?'

'One of the reasons men are more successful is that they choose more aggressive, lethal methods than women. Guns and tall buildings, instead of cutting their wrists or taking an overdose. It is very unusual for a woman to shoot herself.'

'Suspiciously unusual?'

Aune regarded Harry closely. 'Have you any reason to believe this wasn't suicide?'

Harry shook his head. 'I just want to be quite sure. We have to turn right here. Her flat is a little way up the street.'

'Sorgenfrigata?' Aune chuckled and squinted up at the ominous clouds moving across the sky. 'Naturally.'

'Naturally?'

'Sorgenfri was the name of the palace belonging to Christophe, the Haitian king who committed suicide when he was taken prisoner by the French, or as they called it Sans Souci. So, carefree. Carefree Street. Sorgenfrigata. He pointed the cannons at the heavens to avenge himself on God, you know.'

'Well…'

'And I suppose you know what the writer, Ola Bauer, said about this street? I moved to Sorgenfrigata, but that didn't help much, either.' Aune was laughing so much his double chin was wobbling.

Halvorsen stood outside the door waiting. 'I met Bjarne Mшller as I was leaving the station,' he said. 'He was under the impression this case was done and dusted.'

'We just need to tie up a few loose ends,' Harry said, unlocking the door with the key the electrician had given him.

The police tape in front of the door had been removed and the body taken away; otherwise nothing had been touched since the evening before. They went into the bedroom. The white sheet on the large bed shone in the half-light.

'What are we looking for then?' Halvorsen asked as Harry drew the curtains.

'A spare key for the flat,' Harry answered.

'Why's that?'

'We presumed she had a spare key, the one she gave to the electrician. I've been doing a bit of checking. System keys can't be cut at any locksmith; they have to be ordered from the manufacturer via an authorised locksmith. Since the key fits the main door and the cellar door, the housing committee with responsibility for the block of flats wants control of them. Therefore flat residents have to apply for written permission from the committee when they order new keys, don't they. According to an agreement with the committee, it is the authorised locksmith's duty to keep a list of the keys issued to every single flat. I rang Lеsesmeden, the locksmith in Vibes gate, last night. Anna Bethsen was issued two spare keys, thus making three in all. We found one in the flat and the electrician had one. But where is the third? Until it has been found, we cannot rule out the possibility that someone was here when she died and locked the door on their way out.'

Halvorsen nodded slowly: 'The third key, mm.'

'The third key. Can you start over here, Halvorsen, and I'll show Aune something in the meantime?'

'OK.'

'Right, and one more thing. Don't be surprised if you find my mobile phone. I think I left it here yesterday afternoon.'

'I thought you said you lost it the day before.'

'I found it again. And lost it again. You know…'

Halvorsen shook his head. Harry led Aune into the corridor towards the reception rooms. 'I asked you because you're the only person I know who paints.'

'Unfortunately, that is a slight exaggeration.' Aune was still out of breath from the stairs.

'Yes, but you know a little about art, so I hope you can make something of this.'

Harry opened the sliding doors to the furthest room, switched on the light and pointed. Instead of looking at the three paintings, Aune sucked in his breath and walked over to the three-headed standard lamp. He took his glasses from the inside pocket of his tweed jacket, bent down and read the heavy plinth.

'I say!' he exclaimed with enthusiasm. 'A genuine Grimmer lamp.'

'Grimmer?'

'Bertol Grimmer. World-famous German designer. Among other things, he designed the victory monument which Hitler had erected in Paris in 1941. He could have been one of the greatest artists of our time, but at the zenith of his career it came out that he was three-quarters Romany. He was sent to a concentration camp and his name was erased from several buildings and works of art he had worked on. Grimmer survived, but both his hands had been shattered in the quarry where the gypsies worked. He continued to work after the War although he never attained the same magnificent heights because of his injuries. This must be from the post-War years, though, I would wager.' Aune took off the lampshade.

Harry coughed: 'I was actually thinking more about these portraits.'

'Amateur,' Aune snorted. 'You would do better to concentrate on this elegant statue of a woman. The goddess Nemesis, Bertol Grimmer's favourite motif after the War. The goddess of revenge. Incidentally, revenge is a frequent motive in suicides, you know. They feel it is someone's fault their lives have been unsuccessful, and they want to inflict this guilt on others by committing suicide. Bertol Grimmer also took his own life, after his wife's, because she had a lover. Revenge, revenge, revenge. Did you know that humans are the only living creatures to practise revenge? The interesting thing about revenge-'

'Aune?'

'Oh yes, these pictures, you wanted me to interpret them, didn't you? Hm, they look not too dissimilar to the Rorschach blot.'

'The pictures you give to patients to prompt associations?'

'Correct. The problem here is that if I interpret these pictures, it will probably say more about my inner life than hers. Except that no one believes in the Rorschach blot any more, so why not? Let me see…These pictures are very dark, possibly more angry than depressed. One of them clearly isn't finished, though.'

'Perhaps it's supposed to be like that, perhaps it forms a whole?'

'What makes you say that?'