Searching a suspect’s home has never been Bjarne Brogeland’s thing. Trawling through drawers and bookcases, wardrobes and bed linen, hunting the one piece of evidence that will crack open or close a case. He appreciates the importance of this work, of course he does, but he is pleased that it’s rarely something he has to undertake himself. It simply makes him irritable and impatient.
Being in the field was another matter. They had no other choice than to be patient if they were to catch criminals or, as they call them, villains. And this type of work offered a completely different level of tension. Observing the interaction between the villains from afar, reading their codes. Who delivered what to whom and where? Who was talking to whom and when? In this way patterns would emerge which the police could use as a starting point for further investigations, to eliminate who was worth following and who wasn’t. But evidence found in a flat, fibres on the body. It’s too fiddly for him. Too feminine.
However, he took part in the search of Petter Holte’s flat because Holte was his collar. It was his information that led to Holte being remanded in custody, almost in record time. And the evidence found in Holte’s flat was more than enough to nail him for the killing of Robert van Derksen. That’s why Brogeland experiences a pleasant sensation all over as he returns to his office and lets himself fall into his chair. He takes out his mobile and discovers that he has a long list of calls and texts from known and unknown numbers. Brogeland realises without having to check the Internet that Henning Juul has broken the news about Robert van Derksen.
For a brief moment he feels the taste of disloyalty in his mouth. Nokleby and Gjerstad want to manage the flow of information themselves, and in theory Brogeland can live with this. In fact, he is delighted that someone else is prepared to deal with communication. However, Juul is a special case. Even though he can be an absolute pest, he is a pest with a nose. And surely the bottom line is getting results. Like now.
Brogeland scrolls through his text messages and sees that Juul has asked him to call. He glances at his watch. He is about to resume interviewing Petter Holte, and he needs a little time to prepare. But I can manage a quick call, he says to himself and presses the green button. Juul replies a few seconds later.
Brogeland tells him about the arrest and the imminent charging of Petter Holte on the condition that none of this information ends up in print.
‘Are you quite sure it’s him?’ Juul asks.
‘We found a weapon in his flat which was definitely fired yesterday.’
‘Really? And what does he have to say about that?’
‘We haven’t confronted him with it yet. But it will be difficult for him to wriggle out of it given the other evidence.’
‘What other evidence?’
Brogeland hesitates before telling him about the soil in the hallway and a footprint that matches Holte’s size 6? shoes. When Brogeland has finished there is silence.
‘What is it?’ he asks.
‘No, it’s just that I… I just think it sounds a bit odd,’ Henning replies.
‘Why?’
‘I don’t see why Holte would make it that easy for you. And, moreover, I think there is a link between the murder of Jocke Brolenius and the murder of Robert van Derksen though I can’t put my finger on it yet.’
‘There is nothing to suggest it, Henning. We need evidence. Like the missing murder weapon, for example. And, ideally, we need to place that axe in the killer’s hands, whether that person was Petter or someone else.’
Brogeland hears a sigh down the other end of the telephone, but Henning doesn’t elaborate on his frustration.
‘And there is always the possibility that Pulli really did kill Jocke. You mustn’t ignore that.’
‘No,’ Henning replies, glumly. ‘I won’t. I just can’t get it all to add up.’