The Devil's Star Read Free

tongues wagged that Weber and Lønn belonged in the laboratory and not in the community where an investigator’s knowledge of human behaviour was still more important than a footprint or a loose thread from a jacket.
    Weber and Lønn would agree with what they said about the laboratory, but not about the footprints or the loose threads.
    ‘Lønn speaking.’
    ‘Hello, Beate. Bjarne Møller here. Am I disturbing you?’
    ‘Of course. What’s up?’
    Møller explained briefly and gave her the address.
    ‘I’ll send a couple of my lads up with you,’ he said.
    ‘Which ones?’
    ‘I’ll have to have a look to see who I can find. Summer break, you know.’
    Møller put down the phone and ran his finger further down the list.
    It stopped at Tom Waaler.
    The box for holiday dates was blank. That did not surprise Bjarne Møller. Now and then he wondered whether Inspector Tom Waaler took off any time at all or if he even had time to sleep. As a detective he was one of the department’s two star players. Always there, always on the ball and nearly always successful. In contrast with the other top-notch detective, Tom Waaler was reliable, had, an unblemished record and was respected by everyone. In short, a dream subordinate. With the indisputable leadership skills that Tom had, it was on the cards that he would take over Møller’s job as Chief Inspector when the time came.
    Møller’s call crackled through the flimsy partitions.
    ‘Waaler here,’ a sonorous voice replied.
    ‘Møller. We –’
    ‘Just a moment, Bjarne. I’m on another call.’
    Bjarne Møller drummed on the table while he was waiting. Tom Waaler could become the youngest ever Chief Inspector in the Crime Squad. Was it his age that made Bjarne Møller occasionally feel somewhat uneasy at the thought that he would be handing over his responsibilities to Tom? Or perhaps it was the two shooting incidents? The inspector had drawn his gun twice during arrests and, as one of the best marksmen in the police corps, he had hit the target both times with lethal results. Paradoxically enough, Møller also knew that one of the two episodes could ultimately push the appointment of the new Chief in Waaler’s favour. SEFO , the independent police investigation authority, had not uncovered anything to suggest that Tom had not fired in self-defence. In fact, it had concluded that in both cases he had shown good judgment and quick reactions in a tight situation. What better credentials could a candidate for the Chief’s job have?
    ‘Sorry, Bjarne. Call on the mobile. How can I help you?’
    ‘We’ve got a job.’
    ‘At last.’
    The conversation was over in ten seconds. Now he just needed one more person.
    Møller had thought of Halvorsen, but according to the list he was taking his leave at home in Steinkjer. His finger continued down the column. Leave, leave, sick leave. The Chief Inspector sighed when his finger stopped against the name he had been hoping to avoid.
    Harry Hole.
    The lone wolf, the drunk, the department’s enfant terrible and, apart from Tom Waaler, the best detective on the sixth floor. But for that and the fact that Bjarne Møller had over the years developed a sort of perverse penchant for putting his head on the block for this policeman with the serious drinking problem, Harry Hole would have been out years ago. Ordinarily Harry was the first person he would have rung and given the assignment to, but things were not ordinary.
    Or to put it another way: they were more extraordinary than usual.
    It had all come to a head the month before, after Hole had spent the winter reworking an old case, the murder of his closest colleague, Ellen Gjelten, who was killed close to the River Akerselva. During that time he lost all interest in any other cases. The Ellen Gjelten case had been cleared up a long time ago, but Harry had become more and more obsessed and quite frankly Møller was beginning to worry about his mental state. The crunch came when