‘Of course,’ she says with a smile. ‘But let’s toy with the notion that someone in your group of saintly motorcycle enthusiasts had the idea of breaking the law and stealing from his employer. Say he worked in a nursing home or at a library. No, hold on, let’s make it a whiskey warehouse! Just as a “for instance”.’

Odd stifles a yawn.

‘Is this going to take long? I could really do with a fag.’

‘Me too. I’ll keep it brief.’

‘Bit late for that, isn’t it? You realise I’m only here for one reason, right?’ he says and fixes her levelly.

She meets his eyes without blinking.

‘That goes for me too, Odd.’

They stare at each other in silence for four long seconds. Then Karen takes a deep breath and continues.

‘I don’t know exactly what your role is in the club, but I assume your word must carry some weight after all these years. So I have a proposal to make.’

No reaction. Karen presses on.

‘I won’t bring in every single copper I can find, your homes and clubhouse won’t be searched and I won’t have to stop by your little philatelists’ association. On one condition.’

Still no reaction.

‘You tell me everything you know about Gabriel Stuub.’

‘Forget it. I’m not snitching on a brother.’

‘Of course. Aren’t we lucky then that you just told me Gabriel Stuub’s not a member and therefore not a “brother”. You don’t even know him, so I assume you’ll have no qualms telling me everything you hear about him.’

Odd says nothing.

‘And won’t it be nice for me not to have to turn your club and maybe all your law-abiding little friends’ homes upside down, not to have to drag my own family members down to the station to ask them what they know about the OP’s activities? And won’t it be nice for you that no one will need to know that the copper making your lives so difficult is your own cousin? We won’t have to go through any of that, so long as you tell me what you can find out about any connection there might be between young Mr Stuub and the murder of his grandfather.’

She pauses.

‘Do we have a deal?’ she asks.

‘You’ve turned into a real bitch, Karen.’

‘I’ll take that as a yes.’

Chapter 29

29

Once she reaches the motorway, Karen turns the radio up and leans back with a sigh of relief. She watches Noorö’s mountain ranges slowly recede into the distance in the rear-view mirror. It’s only twenty past eleven. Almost forty-eight hours of freedom before she has to go back to those soot-stained houses and an investigation that has ground to a complete standstill.