Irisveien. 11 May 2000.
When Harry swung into Irisveien he immediately saw the police car outside Juul's house. The quiet street with the timber houses, the puddles of melted ice, the blue light slowly turning, two inquisitive children on bicycles-it was like a repetition of the scene outside Sverre Olsen's house. Harry prayed the similarities would stop there.
He parked, got out of the Escort and walked slowly towards the house. As he closed the door behind him he heard someone come out on to the stairs.
'Weber,' Harry said in surprise. 'Our paths cross again.'
'Indeed they do.'
'I didn't know you were on patrol duty too.'
'You know bloody well I'm not. But Brandhaug lives nearby and we had only just got into the car when the message came through on the radio.'
'What's going on?'
'Your guess is as good as mine. There's no one at home. But the door was open.'
'Have you had a look around?’
‘From cellar to loft.'
'Strange. The dog isn't here, either, as far as I can see.'
'Dogs and people, all gone. But it looks as if someone has been in the cellar because the window in the door there is smashed.'
'Right,' Harry said, looking across Irisveien. He caught sight of a tennis court between the houses.
'She may have gone to one of the neighbours,' Harry said. 'I asked her to.'
Weber followed Harry into the hallway where a young police officer was standing looking at the mirror above the telephone table.
'Well, Moen, can you see any signs of intelligent life?' Weber asked sarcastically.
Moen turned and gave Harry a brief nod.
'Well,' Moen said. 'I don't know if it's intelligent or merely weird.' He pointed to the mirror. The other two came closer. 'Well, I'll be blowed,' Weber said.
The large red letters appeared to have been written with lipstick.