The Redbreast (58 page)

Authors: Jo Nesbø

Tags: #Scandinavia, #Mystery, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Norway

BOOK: The Redbreast

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‘I know what you mean,’ Harry said, expelling smoke through his nose. ‘Primarily we’re doing this for those sitting in positions of power, aren’t we? People who could have and should have sounded the alarm before.’

‘As I said,’ Møller replied. ‘On some days Bergen seems like a handsome alternative.’

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. A bird strutted in front of them, wagged its tail, pecked at the grass and kept a watchful eye open.

‘Wagtail,’ Harry said. ‘
Motacilla alba
. Cautious chap.’

‘What?’

‘
Our Small Birds
. What shall we do about the murders Gudbrand Johansen committed?’

‘We cleared up all the early murders to our satisfaction, didn’t we?’

‘What do you mean?’

Møller squirmed.

‘The only thing we’ll achieve by stirring up things now is ripping open old wounds for the next of kin, and there’s a risk someone will poke around and dig up the whole story. The cases were closed.’

‘Right. Even Juul. And Sverre Olsen. What about the murder of Hallgrim Dale?’

‘No one will kick up a fuss about him. After all, Dale was a . . . er . . .’

‘Just an old piss artist no one would give a toss about?’

‘Please, Harry, don’t make this more difficult than it already is. You know I’m not happy with this, either.’

Harry stubbed out his cigarette on the armrest of the bench and put the cigarette end back in the packet.

‘I have to go in again, boss.’

‘So we can count on you keeping this to yourself ?’

Harry gave a laconic smile. ‘Is it true what I’ve heard? About the person who wants to take over my job in POT?’

‘Absolutely,’ Møller said. ‘Tom Waaler has said he’ll apply. Meirik wants to make the whole neo-Nazi section part of the job description, so it’ll become a kind of springboard for the top jobs. I’m going to recommend him, by the way. I suppose you’re just happy he’s going to disappear now you’re back in Crime Squad? Now that his inspector post with us will become vacant.’

‘So that’s the reward for keeping my mouth shut?’

‘What on earth makes you think that, Harry? It’s because you’re the best. You’ve proved it yet again, haven’t you? I’m just wondering whether we can rely on you.’

‘You know which job I want to work on?’

Møller rolled his shoulders. ‘Ellen’s murder has been cleared up, Harry.’

‘Not quite,’ he said. ‘There are a couple of details we still don’t know. Among other things, what happened to the 200,000 Norwegian kroner for the purchase of the rifle. Perhaps there were several middlemen.’

Møller nodded.

‘OK. You and Halvorsen have two months. If you don’t find anything, the case is closed.’

‘Fair enough.’

Møller stood up to go. ‘There’s just one thing I’ve been wondering, Harry. How did you guess the password was “Oleg”?’

‘Well, Ellen was always telling me that the first thing that came into her mind was almost invariably right.’

‘Impressive.’ Møller nodded his head in appreciation. ‘And so the first thing that came into your mind was the name of his grandchild?’

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘I’m not Ellen. I had to give it some thought.’

Møller sent him a sharp look. ‘Are you teasing me now, Hole?’

Harry smiled. Then he gestured towards the wagtail. ‘I read in the bird book I mentioned that no one knows why wagtails wag their tails when they stand still. It’s a mystery. The only thing we know is that they can’t stop . . .’

106
Police HQ. 19 May 2000.

H
ARRY HAD JUST PLACED HIS FEET ON THE DESK AND FOUND
the perfect sitting position when the telephone rang. So as not to lose his position, he stretched forward while using his backside muscles to balance on the new office chair with the treacherous well-oiled wheels. He was able to reach the phone with the tips of his fingers.

‘Hole.’

‘Harry? Isaiah Burne in Johannesburg speaking. How are you?’

‘Isaiah? This is a surprise.’

‘Is it? I’m ringing to thank you, Harry.’

‘Thank me for what?’

‘For not starting anything?’

‘Starting what?’

‘You know what I mean, Harry. For not starting any diplomatic moves for a reprieve or anything like that.’

Harry didn’t answer. He had been half expecting this call for a while. The sitting position wasn’t comfortable any longer. Andreas Hochner’s begging eyes were suddenly present. And Constance Hochner’s imploring voice:
Do you promise to do what you can, Mr Hole?

‘Harry?’

‘I’m still here.’

‘The sentence was passed yesterday.’

Harry stared at the picture of Sis on the wall. It had been an unusually warm summer that year, hadn’t it? They had gone swimming even when it was raining. He felt an inexpressible sadness wash over him.

‘Death penalty?’ he heard himself ask.

‘With no right of appeal.’

107
Schrøder’s. 2 June 2000.

‘W
HAT ARE YOU
DOING
THIS SUMMER
, H
ARRY
?’

Maja was counting up the change.

‘I don’t know. We’ve talked about hiring a chalet somewhere here in Norway. Teach the boy to swim and all that.’

‘I didn’t know you had any children.’

‘No, well, it’s a long story.’

‘Really? Hope I get to hear it one day.’

‘We’ll see, Maja. Keep the change.’

Maja performed a deep curtsey and went off with a wry grin on her face. It was empty in the café for a Friday afternoon. The heat had probably sent most people up to the terrace restaurant in St Hanshaugen.

‘Well?’ Harry said.

The old man stared down into his glass without answering. ‘He’s dead. Aren’t you happy, Åsnes?’

The Mohican raised his head and looked at Harry. ‘Who’s dead?’ he said. ‘No one’s dead. Just me. I’m the last of the dead.’

Harry sighed, stuffed the newspaper under his arm and walked out into the shimmering afternoon heat.

About the Author

JO NESBØ
is a musician, songwriter, economist, and one of Europe’s most critically acclaimed and successful crime writers today. His first novel featuring Police Detective Harry Hole was an instant hit in Norway, winning the Glass Key Award for Best Nordic Crime Novel—the most prestigious crime-writing award in Northern Europe. In 2004,
The Redbreast
was voted the “Best Norwegian Crime Novel Ever Writtenn” by members of Norwegian book clubs. Nesbe lives in Oslo.

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Also by Jo Nesbø

The Devil’s Star

This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

THE REDBREAST
. Copyright © 2000 by Jo Nesbø. English translation copyright © 2006 by Don Bartlett. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

FIRST U.S. EDITION

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

ISBN: 978-0-06-113399-2
ISBN-10: 0-06-113399-X

07 08 09 10 11 OFF/RRD 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

EPub Edition © January 2012 ISBN: 9780062194039

Version 02082013

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