Authors: Jorn Lier Horst
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Police Procedural, #Crime
Christine Thiis’ office was as tidy as it had been on the morning they initiated the investigation. She was sitting behind her desk with a cup of tea and a selection of the day’s newspapers when Wisting entered. The case was on the front pages again, with the discovery of the third body splashed. ‘Welcome home,’ she smiled.
‘Well played,’ said Wisting, nodding in the direction of the newspapers. That the police had not found the corpse earlier with dogs and helicopters could have prompted headlines about police deficiencies. Instead, Christine Thiis was quoted as saying that progress in the investigation had led to the decision to carry out a further search in extremely rugged woodland terrain.
Beyond confirming that the discovery of a dead man in his late twenties was being linked to the current enquiry, she had been extremely reticent with information and would not make further comment. The statement gave the impression that the police were on the offensive and close to a breakthrough, which was exactly how Wisting viewed the situation.
‘How are the children?’ he asked, leafing through one of the newspapers. The media had not dropped the story about the dead birds.
‘Fine. My mother’s staying until after the weekend.’
They discussed the main aspects of the case before leaving to join the others in the conference room.
The morning meeting was divided into five segments. Wisting took the final segment first, asking Espen Mortensen to elaborate on what had been reported in the newspapers.
‘I’ll start with the most important information,’ Mortensen said, opening a folder. He laid out several photographs illustrating the discovery site. ‘The deceased has been identified by fingerprints as Malte Ancher, twenty-nine years old, from Aalborg in Denmark. His post mortem will take place today, and I would expect it to report that the cause of death is blunt trauma to the head, his injuries consistent with a fall. So we’re talking about an accident.’
‘We’ve interviewed Gunnar B. Hystad,’ Torunn Borg interrupted.
‘Who?’
‘The birdwatcher who took the photographs of the other Dane, Klaus Bang.’
Wisting nodded. This was the witness Line had come across.
‘It seems the boat was close to shore almost all day Saturday,’ Torunn Borg said. ‘As though waiting for someone or something.’
Wisting’s mobile phone vibrated on the tabletop, Leif Malm’s number on the display. Letting it ring, he asked Espen Mortensen to continue.
‘We found a black bag in the crevice on the hillside. It had torn open and some of the contents had spilled out. A quick test we carried out yesterday was positive for cocaine. The weight is just under ten kilos.’
‘As most of you know, we have verified the identity of the man in the rowing boat,’ Wisting said. Moving to the second segment of the meeting he told them what he had learned in Lithuania. ‘The formal statements are being translated and will arrive in the course of today.’
The third segment concerned information being dealt with on a need to know basis. Although most team members understood that the case revolved around a drugs confrontation, limits had been set on the intelligence from the informant. Wisting also felt that the information received from Leif Malm had been filtered before it reached him. He peered at the keywords he had noted for the agenda before continuing.
‘You know my daughter, Line,’ he said. ‘Some of you also know that she has been living with Tommy Kvanter in Oslo, and that a number of years ago he was sentenced for a drugs offence. I want you to know as well that he is an associate of Rudi Muller and they both have ownership interests in
Shazam Station
. The Oslo Police, who have contact with an informant and are conducting a surveillance operation on Muller, naturally know this too. His relationship with Line is over, actually, and as the case stands now, I don’t feel that it creates any conflict of interest, but that’s something I’ll keep in mind as we progress.’
He looked down at his papers again. It had pained him to get that out, but at the same time it was a relief. As far as Line’s car being linked to the case was concerned, he would take that up with Nils Hammer in private before the witness statements arrived from Lithuania.
He was about to continue when Benjamin Fjeld thrust his hand in the air. ‘Is Tommy Kvanter not originally Danish?’
‘Yes.’ Wisting let a question hang in the air with this confirmation.
‘There is obviously a Denmark connection here,’ Benjamin Fjeld said. ‘Do we know whether he has any association with Klaus Bang or Malte Ancher?’
Wisting was surprised that Benjamin Fjeld had such intimate knowledge of his daughter’s private life, but the possible link was so obvious he could not comprehend why his own thoughts had not taken him in that direction. All the same, he managed to respond positively. ‘The intelligence section in Oslo is following that line.’
He scanned the faces around the table without detecting any sign of discomfort, stood up and stepped forward to the whiteboard at one end of the room. ‘So, now we know a great deal about what happened,’ he said, introducing the fourth segment of the meeting. At that moment, his mobile phone vibrated again – another call from Leif Malm. ‘The Danes travel across the Skagerrak to deliver ten kilos of cocaine,’ he said, allowing it to ring out. ‘It’s a regular route, and they send a prearranged text message when they arrive.’
He illustrated his theory by using a blue marker pen to sketch a boat with two matchstick men.
‘The recipients are Rudi Muller and his prospective brother-in-law, Trond Holmberg,’ he continued, selecting a green marker pen before drawing a car with two men. ‘The transfer occurs at a regular location.’ This time he sketched a cottage. ‘Chance circumstances cause the four itinerant burglars from Lithuania to be hidden witnesses to the transaction.’
Four red matchstick men were lined along the board.
‘One of them takes the bag of money, but is chased by Muller and Holmberg. Both parties carry firearms, and both make use of them. Darius is hit by two bullets, but manages to hide from his pursuers in an old rowing boat. It drifts off to sea and he dies of his wounds.’
One of the red men now lies horizontal on the board.
‘Trond Holmberg is also shot, and seeks refuge in the nearest cottage.’ He drew another cottage and placed one of the green matchstick men lying prone inside. ‘The three other Lithuanians search for Darius, and bump into one of the Danes.’
‘Malte Ancher,’ Mortensen said, and Wisting crossed out one of the blue men.
‘He flees into the woodland with the bag of cocaine and plunges to his death.’ He sketched the new position of Malte Ancher.
‘Klaus Bang waits in the boat, but has to return to Denmark on his own. The three remaining Lithuanians retreat when the police start to appear. Rudi Muller must also leave the crime scene and, when he discovers from the media that Trond Holmberg is dead, he does all he can to avoid being drawn into the case that now involves not only aggravated drugs offences, but also murder. He steals Holmberg’s body and places it in his flat before setting it on fire.’
Wisting replaced the lid of the marker pen. The board outlined a simple, intelligible chain of events. As he envisioned it, there were still two important questions remaining. He turned again to the board, this time with a black marker pen.
‘Who killed Trond Holmberg?’ He drew a question mark above the green matchstick man. ‘And what’s happened to the bag of money?’
Several people spoke at once. Wisting, making an effort to steer the discussion, invited one of the investigators drafted from another district to speak.
‘Has Thomas Rønningen been eliminated?’ he asked, pointing to the cottage Wisting had sketched on the board.
‘His girlfriend has given him an alibi.’
‘Does that check out? He might have been there and surprised the housebreaker.’
‘It checks out until we know otherwise,’ Wisting replied. ‘Besides, Trond Holmberg wasn’t the housebreaker. The Lithuanians confirm that they emptied the cottage before Holmberg and Muller turned up.’
Christine Thiis spoke without waiting to be asked. ‘Do we actually know that it was Muller who was there with Holmberg?’
Wisting shook his head. ‘We’re basing that on the assumptions of the informant and the fact that Muller would hardly have hijacked the hearse, killed the driver and desecrated the body of his girlfriend’s little brother except to conceal his involvement in the case.’
‘But do we know it was Muller who stole the hearse?’
‘It’s still just a theory,’ Wisting said. ‘If we could prove it, Rudi Muller would be under arrest.’
Several of the detectives wanted to voice opinions and questions. Wisting stood behind his chair, his hands resting on the back, like a captain firmly holding the helm aboard a vessel in choppy waters. He allowed everybody a chance to speak before moving to the last segment of the meeting.
‘We have definite information that Rudi Muller is planning a robbery,’ he said. ‘The target has been chosen, the cash service centre in Elveveien here in Larvik.’ He outlined the information from Oslo before giving the floor to Nils Hammer.
‘The
NOKAS
cash service is Norway’s third largest security company,’ Hammer said when a photograph of the reddish-brown brick building appeared on the screen. The advertising sign on the façade proclaimed that there were five other companies in the same building. ‘The centre is a depot and loading station for coins and banknotes from banks and commercial businesses in the counties of Vestfold and Telemark. The administration offices are situated on the upper floor, while the actual depot is located in the basement with the entrance at the rear.’
Hammer changed the image. The building was positioned on a gentle slope, with a road running around and down behind it, where there was an entrance through a drive-in gate and steel door. ‘The perimeter of the building is fitted with an intruder alarm and, in addition, there’s a robbery alarm and a threat alarm.’
‘What do you mean by a threat alarm?’ Christine Thiis asked.
‘If an employee is forced to switch off the alarm system, they’re instructed to key in an extra digit that sets off a silent alarm at a twenty-four hour security centre in Oslo. There are internal CCTV cameras, as well as cameras in the basement. The footage is beamed directly to the security centre.’
He changed to a photograph of the interior. The first room resembled an ordinary garage with tools and stored winter tyres. There was a wide door on the side wall of the room.
‘That leads into the cash room,’ Hammer said before changing the image again to one of pallets stacked with steel boxes that must contain coins. Two pallet trucks stood in the middle of the picture. ‘It’s unsuitable as the target for a robbery, because the valuables are too heavy and cumbersome. The room containing banknotes is further inside.’
The next photograph showed a narrow room equipped with four large safes. ‘This room is fitted with a smoke alarm that fills the space with a screen of artificial smoke when the alarm is sounded.’
‘How are they thinking of managing it?’
Nils Hammer switched off the projector, but remained on his feet. ‘The weak point is always, of course, when the money is loaded and unloaded from the security vans. There’s a regular cash delivery from Oslo arriving between nine and ten o’clock this evening. In addition, there are two further weak spots. One is through a side door from the garage belonging to another tenant. The other is through the ceiling from a tool wholesaler’s on the floor directly above the room where the banknotes are stored.’
‘What’s our plan?’
‘This is an operation led by Oslo Police and the Emergency Squad. Right now, there are around forty million kroner stored at the depot. It will be emptied in the course of today, and we’ll fill the building with our people. The cash transport is the most likely target. It will be crewed by officers from the Emergency Squad, and follow its usual route.’
‘What’s our assignment?’
Wisting took the floor again. ‘Our department is not playing an active role in the operation. A plan has been drawn up for us to man individual civilian surveillance points. The nearest building to the cash centre is the fire station. We’ll establish a base there and follow the action on video.’
‘Weapons?’
‘The Chief of Police has given orders for concealed weapons, including handguns for our officers. That applies from this moment, until fresh orders are received.’
His mobile phone vibrated for the third time. This time Wisting picked it up, but refrained from answering. ‘Any questions?’
No one had anything to add; the meeting was over. Wisting observed his colleagues as they left the room: tough, stern and resolute faces, fists clenched. He was aware too of his own pulse beating in his temples. For one entire week they had lagged behind, chasing a solution. Now they would go into live action and, in only a few hours, would have the answers.
Leif Malm’s voice was unsteady when Wisting phoned him back. ‘We’ve lost sight of Rudi Muller,’ he said.
Wisting sat behind his desk. ‘How?’ he asked.
‘He went out early this morning, just after six o’clock; totally atypical for him. We’re on reduced staffing until eight o’clock, and the two cars we had on duty didn’t manage to follow him.’
‘Don’t you have electronic tracking on the vehicle?’
‘Yes, and that’s why we have fewer men. We lost the GPS signal when he drove into the Vaterland Tunnel, and never came out again. Now the boys have located the car in the car park underneath the Ibsen Kvartal office block.’
Wisting pictured in his mind’s eye the car park in the middle of Oslo city centre, with a direct entrance built into the tunnel leading from the ring road.
‘He could have changed vehicle or disappeared on foot,’ Malm continued.
‘What will you do now?’
‘We have three surveillance posts. The car, his flat and
Shazam Station
.’
‘What about the telephone monitoring?’
‘It’s giving us nothing. We’re trying to identify other numbers he’s using.’
‘Does your informant have anything new?’
‘There’s been no contact with him for thirty-six hours. The last update was that Muller is stressed out. We’ll see what he can come up with in the course of the day.’
‘Do you have anything else on Svein Brandt, the man Muller presumably met at the hotel when he was in Larvik on Tuesday night?’
‘He returned to Spain yesterday evening. He may have been here to sell the robbery plans.’
Wisting shuffled the papers on his desk in an attempt to bring order to the reports that had arrived while he was on his travels. ‘What about the Danes? Have you looked more closely at them?’
‘So far we haven’t found any direct connection to Muller or his associates.’
There was a pause as Wisting collected his thoughts. ‘What do we do now?’ he asked. ‘What on earth can it mean that Muller has disappeared?’
‘I think it means things are about to take off,’ Malm answered. Some of the assurance had returned to his voice. ‘I’m coming down with the Emergency Squad. We’ll be with you by twelve.’