He Who Fears the Wolf by Karin Fossum Read Free Book Online Page B

to her from behind. First he put his arm around her neck and pulled her away from the counter, then he shoved her to the floor and put his foot on her head. And then he screamed at me, 'If you hesitate for even a second I'm going to blow her brains all over the floor!' Then he fired a shot. At the ceiling, I mean. The ceiling tiles exploded and flew in all directions. My hair is full of plaster."
    She wiped the sweat from her forehead on the sleeve of her blouse, and he paused for a moment to watch Karlsen, who was unfastening the camera from the ceiling and taking out the videotape.
    "He spoke Norwegian?"
    "Yes."
    "Without an accent?"
    "That's right. He had a high voice. Maybe a little hoarse."
    "The girl, did she say anything at all?"
    "Not a word. She was scared to death. And he was the type of man who knew what he was doing; Full of contempt for everybody. I'm sure he's committed a robbery before."
    "We'll see," Sejer interrupted her as he took the tape. "I hope you won't mind coming down to the station to have a look at the tape."
    "I need to make a phone call."
    "We can arrange that."
    Karlsen looked at her. "Can you estimate how much money you gave him?"
    "Gave him?" she cried, staring at him as if he were crazy. "What kind of thing is that to say? I didn't give him anything – he robbed me!"
    Sejer blinked and looked up at the ceiling.
    "I'm sorry," Karlsen said. "I meant could you estimate how much he got away with?"
    "Today is Friday," she said, still sounding insulted. "I had put about a hundred thousand in the till."
    Sejer stared out of the open door. "Let's talk to the people outside who saw them. There were several witnesses. We might at least get a usable description."
    He sighed heavily as he said this. He had seen the man himself, from a distance of hardly more than a metre. How much would he be able to remember?
    "The car was white, and it looked new. It was really small," she added. "I didn't see anything else special about it. It was unlocked, and the keys must have been inside because he drove off almost before the door was closed. Right across the square, between two flower boxes and out on to the road."
    "Chances are it was stolen, and he has his own car parked elsewhere. He could be dangerous. It must have been sheer impulse to take a hostage. If that's what he did, that is. He probably wasn't counting on a customer coming in here so soon after opening. And . . . Did she enter the bank from the other door?"
    "Yes."
    Sejer looked up at the gaping hole in the ceiling and frowned. "He's a fast thinker. Or desperate."
    Another squad car drove up to the front of the bank, and two forensic technicians in overalls came inside. The first thing they did was to squint up at the hole made by the bullet in the ceiling.
    "I wonder how many rounds he has," said one of the technicians.
    "I don't dare think about that," said Sejer gloomily. "But no question he's a tough character. First he takes a hostage, and then he fires his gun in the middle of the morning rush hour."
    "Very effective," said the technician. "Everybody freezes. He was only thinking about one thing – doing the robbery fast. No dawdling, full speed ahead. Was he wearing gloves?"
    The teller nodded. "Thin gloves."
    Sejer cursed himself for not lingering inside the bank and foiling the robber's plans. But the man would only have waited and come back another day. He took another look at the teller. Her eyes had taken on that particular gleam that meant she'd been shaken out of the life she'd taken for granted. He understood, and yet he didn't.
    "OK," he said. "We've got a lot to do. Let's get moving."
    *
    He was breathing hard. He leaned forward in his seat, as if wanting to urge the car out of the city. He had been planning this for a long time, had run through the robbery in his mind over and over, picturing all the details and how it would go. But he had been wrong. Everything had gone at such a dizzying speed. He had the money, that's what was