The Devil's Star by Jo Nesbø Read Free Book Online

off.
    Harry went to the lavatory, splashed some cold water over his face and confronted his reflection in the mirror. Beneath his wet, closely cropped fair hair he saw a pair of bloodshot eyes with dark bags under them and drawn, hollow cheeks. He tried a smile. Yellowing teeth grinned back at him. He didn’t recognise himself. And he knew that Rakel was right, it was a deadline. For him and Ellen. For him and Tom Waaler.
    The same day he went to his closest superior officer, Bjarne Møller, who was the only person at Police HQ he trusted 100 per cent. Møller had alternately nodded and shaken his head as Harry told him what he wanted. Fortunately, he had said, that was not his pigeon and Harry would have to take it up directly with the Chief Superintendent. Nevertheless, he thought that Harry should think twice before he went to see him. Harry went straight from Møller’s square office to the oval office of the head of Kripos . He knocked, went in and presented what he had to say, about the witness who had seen Tom Waaler together with Sverre Olsen, and the fact that it was none other than Tom Waaler who had shot Olsen while arresting him. That was it. That was all he had after five months’ slog, five months’ shadowing, five months on the verge of madness.
    The head of Kripos asked Harry what he thought Tom Waaler’s motive might be in killing Ellen Gjelten.
    Harry answered that Ellen was in possession of dangerous information. The same evening she was killed she left a message on Harry’s answerphone that she knew who Prince was. She knew the name of the ringleader behind the illegal importing of weapons and the person responsible for arming Oslo’s criminal community to the teeth with service handguns.
    ‘Unfortunately it was too late when I rang back,’ Harry said, trying to read the Chief Superintendent’s expression.
    ‘And Sverre Olsen?’ the Superintendent asked.
    ‘When we picked up Sverre Olsen’s trail, Prince killed him so that he wouldn’t be able to reveal the name of Ellen’s killer.’
    ‘And this Prince, you said, is . . . ?’
    Harry repeated Tom Waaler’s name and the head of Kripos nodded in silence and said: ‘One of our own then. One of our most respected detective inspectors.’
    For the next ten seconds Harry felt as if he was sitting in a vacuum, with no air and no sound. He knew that his police career could finish right there on the spot.
    ‘Alright, Hole. I’ll meet this witness of yours before I make up my mind what our next step should be.’
    The Superintendent stood up.
    ‘I assume that you understand, until further notice, this is a matter which must remain between you and me.’
    ‘How long are we supposed to stay here?’
    Harry gave a start at the sound of the taxi driver’s voice. He had been asleep.
    ‘Go back,’ he said, taking a last look at the timber house.
    As they went back down Kirkeveien his mobile phone rang. It was Beate.
    ‘We think we’ve found the weapon,’ she said. ‘And you were right. It is a handgun.’
    ‘In that case, congratulations to us both.’
    ‘Well, it wasn’t so difficult to find. It was in the rubbish bin under the sink.’
    ‘Make and number?’
    ‘A Glock 23. The number has been filed off.’
    ‘File marks?’
    ‘If you’re wondering whether they’re the same as the ones we find on most confiscated small arms in Oslo at the moment, the answer is yes.’
    ‘I see.’ Harry switched his mobile to his left hand. ‘What I don’t see is why you’re ringing to tell me all this. It’s not my case.’
    ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Harry. Møller said . . .’
    ‘Møller and the whole fucking Oslo Police Force can go to hell!’
    Harry was taken aback by his own screeching voice. He saw the taxi driver’s V-shaped eyebrows loom up in the rear-view mirror.
    ‘Sorry, Beate. I . . . Are you still there?’
    ‘Uh-huh.’
    ‘I’m just not quite myself at the moment.’
    ‘It can wait.’
    ‘What