When the black van carrying Larsen and Arvidsen turns into the driveway thirty minutes later, Karen and Byle are sitting on the stone steps in front of Fredrik Stuub’s house.

‘Did you lose the key?’ Larsen grins as he climbs out of the van.

His frizzy blond hair has puffed up around his head once more. Without waiting for a reply, he and Arvidsen start unloading equipment bags, a camera and fresh protective suits. Karen waits for them to finish.

‘We backed off right away,’ she says when they join them. ‘Didn’t make it past the hallway. Look for yourself.’

‘Well, either he has no talent for cleaning, or someone helped mess the place up,’ Larsen says a minute later, after taking a quick look inside and discovering pulled-out drawers and books torn out of bookshelves. Sören Larsen steps out onto the front steps and squints at the pale sun.

‘Hardly a regular break-in, looks more like someone searched the place, if you ask me,’ he says. ‘OK, we have our work cut out for us. You realise you can’t come in, right?’

‘Why do you think I turned in the doorway? This isn’t my first day at the races,’ Karen says tersely. ‘How long do you think it’s going to take?’

‘No idea. Probably all day. They should pay me double,’ he mutters, ‘there’s enough work here for four.’

‘Take it up with Viggo Haugen, I’m sure he’d be happy to open his wallet for you,’ she replies with a grin.

Sören Larsen gives her a dark look. The stinginess of the police chief goes well beyond what can be motivated by political limitations. To Viggo Haugen, the annual budget process seems more like a chance to beat his own personal record than anything else.

‘Sure, or maybe I could try squeezing blood from a stone,’ Larsen snorts derisively. ‘I’ll call you when we’re done, but I don’t think it’ll be before evening. You’ll have to find some other way to amuse yourself.’

Chapter 11

11

As they start back toward Skreby, Karen is thankful for Byle’s suggestion that it might be time to break for lunch. It’s almost one and other than a dry biscuit, she hasn’t had anything to eat since breakfast back in Langevik in the early hours of the morning. They drive at a leisurely pace, with him in the lead and her following. The Boxing Day traffic is still light and they are overtaken by the occasional car; she wonders if Byle is driving more carefully than he usually would.