Killing Moon

38 Thursday

Alexandra moved the magnifying glass millimetre by millimetre over Helene Røed’s entire head. She had been at it since arriving this morning, and soon it would be lunchtime.

‘Can you come here for a sec, Alex?’

Alexandra took a break in the hunt for clues and walked to the far end of the bench where Helge was busy with Bertine Bertilsen’s head. She didn’t allow anyone other than him to shorten her name to an androgynous one, perhaps because coming from his mouth it sounded so natural, almost affectionate, like she was his sister.

‘What is it?’

‘This,’ Helge said, pushing down the decomposing lower lip on Bertine’s head and holding the magnifying glass up in front of the teeth in the lower jaw. ‘There. It looks like skin.’

Alexandra leaned closer. It was barely visible to the naked eye but under the magnifying glass there was no doubt. A white, dried-up flake protruding between two teeth.

‘Jesus, Helge,’ she said. ‘It is skin.’

It was a minute to twelve. Katrine looked out over the audience in the Parole Hall and concluded that, like the last time, the press had turned out in strength. She saw Terry Våge seated next to Mona Daa. Not so strange considering the story he had served up on a plate to VG. Still, she thought Daa looked slightly uneasy. She let her eyes wander towards the back, noticed a man she hadn’t seen before and assumed must be from a church magazine or Christian newspaper as he was wearing a clerical collar. He was sitting very straight-backed, looking right at her, like an expectant, attentive schoolboy. With a constant smile and unblinking eyes, putting her in mind of a ventriloquist’s dummy. At the very back of the room, leaning against the wall with arms folded, she saw Harry. Then the press conference began.

Kedzierski outlined what had happened, that the police, acting on information from journalist Terry Våge, had arrived at Kolsåstoppen, where the heads of Bertine Bertilsen and Helene Røed had been found. That Våge had given a statement and how at present the police had no plans to bring any charges against the journalist for his conduct in the case. That they could of course not rule out the possibility of two or more people cooperating to carry out the murders, but as things stood, Markus Røed would be released.

Afterwards — like an echo of the previous night — a storm of questions followed.

Bodil Melling was seated on the podium to handle questions of a more general character. And — she had informed Katrine — to answer any questions about Harry Hole.

‘I think it would be best if you didn’t mention Hole at all in your answers,’ the Chief Superintendent had said. Nor should Røed’s new alibi be touched upon — that he had been at a club for men at the time of two of the murders — since the manner in which this information had been obtained was highly dubious. The first questions concerned the discovery of the heads, and Katrine responded with the standard phrases about not being in a position to answer or being unable to comment.

‘Does that also mean you haven’t found forensic evidence at the crime scene?’

‘I said we couldn’t comment on that,’ Katrine said. ‘But I think we can safely say that Kolsås is not considered a primary crime scene.’

Some of the more seasoned reporters chuckled.

After several questions of a technical character the first awkward one was put.

‘Is it embarrassing for the police to have to release Markus Røed four days after placing him in custody?’

Katrine glanced at Bodil Melling, who nodded to signal her intent to take it.

‘As with every other case, the police are investigating this one with the tools we have at our disposal,’ Melling said. ‘One of these tools is the detention of individuals who suspicion falls upon due to technical or tactical circumstantial evidence, and this is utilised to minimise the risk of flight or tampering with evidence. This is not the same as the police being convinced they have found the guilty party, or that mistakes have been made should further investigation lead to detention no longer being deemed necessary. Given the information we had on Sunday we would do the same thing again. So no, it’s not embarrassing.’

‘But it wasn’t the investigation that saw to it, it was Terry Våge.’

‘Having open lines so that people can call in with information is an element of the investigation. Part of the job is sifting through this information, and the fact that we took Våge’s call seriously is an example of correct judgement on our part.’

‘Are you saying it was difficult to judge whether or not Våge should be taken seriously?’

‘No comment,’ Melling said curtly, but Katrine saw the trace of a smile.

The questions were coming from all directions now, but Melling answered calmly and confidently. Katrine wondered if she had been wrong about the woman, perhaps she was more than a grey careerist after all.

Katrine had time to study the people in the audience, and saw Harry take out his phone, look at it and stride out of the hall.

As Melling finished responding to one question and the next journalist in Kedzierski’s queue was allowed to put one to the people on the podium, Katrine felt her phone vibrate in her jacket pocket. The next question was also addressed to Melling. Katrine saw Harry re-enter the hall, catch her eye and point to his own phone. She understood and slipped her phone out under the table. The text was from Harry.

Forensic Med Inst have DNA and 80 % match.

Katrine read it again. Eighty per cent didn’t mean that the DNA profile matched eighty per cent — then you would have to include all mankind and every animal down to snails. Eighty per cent match in this context meant there was an eighty per cent chance they had the right person. She felt her heart rate soar. The journalist had been right about them not finding any evidence around the tree on Kolsåstoppen, so this was simply fantastic. Eighty per cent wasn’t one hundred per cent but it was... eighty per cent. And seeing as it was only midday they wouldn’t have had time to get a full DNA profile yet, so that figure could increase during the course of the day. But might it also decline? In fairness, she hadn’t taken in everything those times Alexandra had explained the finer points of DNA analysis. No matter, she just wanted to get up and rush out, not sit here feeding the vultures, not now they finally had a lead, a name! Someone they had in the database, probably with a previous conviction, or someone they had arrested at least. Someone...

A thought had crossed her mind.

Not Røed! Oh God, don’t let it be Røed again, she couldn’t face that rigmarole one more time. She had closed her eyes and realised it had gone quiet.

‘Bratt?’ It was Kedzierski’s voice.

Katrine opened her eyes, apologised and asked if the journalist could repeat the question.

‘The press conference has finished,’ Johan Krohn said. ‘Here’s what VG wrote.’

He handed Markus Røed the phone.

They were sitting in the back of an SUV on the way from the custody block to the apartment in Oslobukta. They had been allowed to leave via the subterranean tunnel to Police HQ to avoid the posse of journalists at the exit. Krohn had hired a car and people from a security company Røed had used before, Guardian. It had been done on the advice of Harry Hole and his rationale had been simple. Six people had at one point been in the same room with a few lines of green cocaine. Of these, three had been murdered by what increasingly seemed to be an insane serial killer. The likelihood of one of the three remaining people being next in line was not sky-high, but high enough for it to make good sense to hole up in a breach-proof apartment with bodyguards for a while. Røed had, after some deliberation, agreed. Krohn suspected the two bull-necked men in the front seats were inspired by the Secret Service in choice of suits, sunglasses and workout regimens. He was unsure if the reason the black off-the-peg suits appeared so tight was due to muscle mass or bulletproof vests. But he was sure that Røed was in good hands.

‘Ha!’ Røed exclaimed. ‘Listen...’

Krohn had of course read Daa’s column but could bear to hear it again.

Røed turned to the lawyer.

‘Do you think that part about the bear is a pun on...?’

‘No.’ Johan Krohn smiled. ‘What are you going to do now?’

‘Good question, what am I going to do?’ Røed asked, handing Krohn back his phone. ‘What do released prisoners usually do? Party, of course.’

‘I would advise against that,’ Krohn said. ‘The eyes of the whole country are on you, and Helene...’ His voice trailed off.

‘Her body isn’t cold yet, you mean?’

‘Something like that. Besides, I’d like as little traffic as possible.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning that you stay put in the apartment, just you and your two new friends. At least for the time being. You can work from there.’

‘Fine,’ Røed said, ‘but I’ll need a little something... to keep my spirits up. If you know what I mean.’

‘I think I do,’ Krohn sighed. ‘But can’t that wait?’

Røed laughed and laid a hand on Krohn’s shoulder. ‘Poor old Johan. You don’t have many vices but you probably haven’t had too much fun either. I promise not to take any chances. I do actually want to keep this beautiful, unique...’ He drew a circle over his head.

‘Good,’ Johan said, and looked out the window, at the strict yet playful design of the Barcode buildings that had brought Oslo into this century. He dismissed the thought that had been in his mind for a fraction of a second. That he would not have mourned very long if Markus Røed were to be decapitated.

‘Shut the door behind you, please,’ Bodil Melling said as she stepped out from behind her desk.

Katrine closed the door behind her and Harry, and sat down at the table where Sung-min was already in place.

‘What do we have?’ Melling said, sitting at the end.

She was looking directly at Katrine, but Katrine nodded towards Harry, who was still getting settled in his chair.

‘Well,’ Harry said, pausing until he had found his preferred, half-lying position. Katrine saw the impatience on the Chief Superintendent’s face. ‘The Forensic Medical Institute called me and—’

‘Why you? If they have something to report then they ought to ring the detective leading the investigation.’

‘Maybe so,’ Harry said. ‘Anyway, they said—’

‘No, I want this cleared up first. Why didn’t they contact the lead detective?’

Harry grimaced, stifled a yawn and looked out the window as though the question were immaterial.

‘It was perhaps not formally correct,’ Katrine said. ‘But they called the individual who in effect has been leading this investigation, in the sense of being at the forefront. Can we move on?’

The two women’s eyes met.

Katrine was aware that what she had said — and the way she had said it — could be perceived as provocative. And maybe it was. So what? This wasn’t the time for office politics and pissing contests. And perhaps Melling realised that too. In any case, she gave Katrine a curt nod.

‘OK, Bratt. Go on, Hole.’

Harry nodded in the direction of the window as though he’d had a silent conversation with someone outside and turned to the others again.

‘Mm. Pathology found a skin fragment between Bertine Bertilsen’s teeth. According to the post-mortem technicians, it was so loose that it would have disappeared had she rinsed her mouth or brushed her teeth, so it’s reasonable to assume it ended up there just prior to death. For example, by her biting her killer. There is a preliminary profile with a very likely match in the database.’

‘Criminal?’

‘Not convicted, but yes.’

‘How high is the probability?’

‘High enough to merit arrest,’ Harry said.

‘In your opinion. We can’t afford to make yet another arrest where the press—’

‘This is our man.’ Harry said it in a low voice, but the words seemed to resound in the room.

Melling shifted her gaze to Katrine, who nodded.

‘And you, Larsen?’

‘The latest information from Pathology is a probability of ninety-two per cent,’ Sung-min said. ‘This is our man.’

‘Good,’ Melling said and clapped her hands together. ‘Get to it.’

They stood up.

On the way out Melling held Katrine back.

‘Do you like this office, Bratt?’

Katrine looked at Melling, uncertain. ‘Yes, the place looks nice.’

Melling ran a hand over the back of one of the meeting chairs. ‘I only ask because I haven’t got the green light yet, but I might be moving to another one, which means this will be vacant.’ Melling smiled with a warmth Katrine didn’t know she possessed. ‘But don’t let me keep you, Bratt.’