'We found a new witness yesterday who-'

'There's always a new witness, Harry. They just don't want any more.'

'But-'

'We've drawn a line under it, Harry. Sorry.'

Mшller turned at the door. 'Go for a walk in the sun. It might be the last warm day for a while.'

***

'Rumours going round it's sunny,' Harry said as he entered the House of Pain and saw Beate. 'Just so you know.'

'Turn off the light,' she said. 'And I'll show you something.'

She had sounded excited on the telephone, but she didn't mention why. She picked up the remote control: 'I didn't find anything on the tape from the day the skip was ordered, but take a peek at this one from the day of the robbery.'

Harry saw the 7-Eleven on the screen. He saw the green skip outside the window, the cream buns inside the shop, the back of the head and bum-crack of the boy he had talked to the day before. He was serving a girl who was buying milk, Cosmopolitan and condoms.

'The recording is timed at 15.05, so about fifteen minutes before the robbery. Look now.'

The girl took her things and left, the queue moved forward and a man in a black boiler suit and a peaked cap with the earflaps pulled well down pointed at something on the counter. He held his head down so that his face couldn't be seen. Under his arm he was carrying a folded black holdall.

'What the hell,' Harry whispered.

'That's the Expeditor,' Beate said.

'Sure? Lots of people wear black boiler suits, and the robber didn't have a cap.'

'When he goes away from the counter, you'll see they're the same shoes as on the video. And notice the bulge on his left. That's the AG3.'

'He's taped it to his body. But what's he doing in a 7-Eleven?'

'He's waiting for the armoured van and he needs a lookout post where he won't be conspicuous. He's done a recce in the area and knows that the security van comes between 15.15 and 15.20. In the meantime, he can't exactly walk around wearing a balaclava and announce his intentions, so he uses a cap which covers most of his face. When he goes to the counter, if you look hard, you can see a small rectangle of light flickering on it. It's a reflection off glass. You're wearing sunglasses, aren't you, you Expeditor bastard.' Beate spoke in a low voice, but fast, with an anger Harry had not heard from her before. 'He's obviously aware of the camera in the 7-Eleven, too. He doesn't show any of his face. Look at him checking the angles! In fact, he does it really well. I've got to give him that.'

The boy behind the counter gave the man in the boiler suit a cream bun and picked up the ten-kroner coin he put down.

'Hello.'

'Right,' Beate said. 'He's not wearing gloves. But he doesn't seem to have touched anything in the shop. And there you can see the rectangle of light I was telling you about.'

Harry didn't say a word.

The man went out of the shop as the last person in the queue was being served.

'Mm. We'll have to start searching for witnesses again,' Harry said, getting up.

'I wouldn't be too optimistic,' Beate said, still staring at the screen. 'Remember only one witness reported having seen the Expeditor escape in the Friday rush hour. The robber's best hiding place is in a crowd.'

'OK, but have you got any other suggestions?'

'Sit down or you'll miss the climax.'

Mildly disconcerted, Harry shot her a look and faced the screen. The boy behind the counter had turned towards the camera with a finger jammed up his nose.

'One man's climax is another-' Harry grumbled.

'Look at the skip outside the window.'

The window pane reflected the light, but they could still see the man in the black boiler suit. He was standing on the pavement between the skip and a parked car. His back was to the camera and a hand was resting on the edge of the skip. He seemed to be keeping an eye on the bank while eating the cream bun. The holdall he was carrying was on the tarmac.

'That's his lookout post,' Beate said. 'He ordered the skip and had it placed on that precise spot. It is ingeniously simple. He can watch for the security van while hiding from the security cameras. And notice the way he stands. First of all, half of the passers-by won't even be able to see him because of the skip, and those who can will see a man in a boiler suit and cap beside a skip: a builder, a removal man or a waste-disposal worker. In short, nothing that will gain a foothold in the cerebral cortex. No wonder we didn't get any witnesses.'

'He's leaving some nice, fat fingerprints on the skip,' Harry said. 'Shame it's done nothing but rain for the last week.'

'But the cream bun-'

'He's eating his fingerprints too,' Harry sighed.

'-makes him thirsty. Watch this now.'

The man bent down, unzipped the holdall and pulled out a white plastic bag. From this he removed a bottle.

'Coca-Cola,' Beate whispered. 'I zoomed in on a still before you came. It's a Coke bottle with a cork in.'

The man held the bottle at the top while pulling out the cork. Then he threw back his head, held the bottle high in the air and poured. They could see the last dregs running out, but the cap blotted out the open mouth and face. Then he put the bottle in the plastic bag, knotted it and was about to put it in his holdall when he paused.

'Watch. Now he's thinking,' Beate whispered, and in a low monotone: 'How much room will the money take up? How much room will the money take up?'

The protagonist studied the holdall. Looked at the skip. Then he made up his mind and with a quick toss of his arm the bag, with the bottle inside, sailed in an arc through the air and landed in the open skip.

'A three-pointer!' Harry roared.

'The crowd goes wild!' Beate yelled.

***

'Fuck!' Harry shouted.

'Oh no,' Beate groaned and banged her forehead against the wheel in despair.

'They must have just been here,' Harry said. 'Hang on!'

He flung open the car door in front of a cyclist who swerved out of the way, and ran across the street, into the 7-Eleven and over to the counter.

'When did they take the skip?' he asked the boy who was about to wrap two Big Bite sausages for two large-bottomed girls.

'Wait your turn, for Christ's sake,' the boy said without looking up.

One of the girls let out an indignant whine as Harry leaned over, blocking access to the ketchup bottle, and grabbed hold of the boy's green shirt front.

'Hello there, it's me again,' Harry said. 'Now follow this carefully, otherwise this sausage will be going right up…'

The boy's terrified expression forced Harry to collect himself. He released his grip and pointed to the window, through which you could now see Nordea Bank on the other side of the street because of the gaping hole left by the skip. 'When did they take the skip? Quickly!'

The boy swallowed and stared at Harry. 'Now. Just now.'

'When is now?'

'Two minutes ago.' His eyes had glazed over.

'Where were they going?'

'How should I know? I don't know nuffin about skips.'

'Nothing.'

'Eh?'

But Harry had already gone.

***

Harry put Beate's red mobile phone to his ear.

'Oslo Waste Management? This is the police, Inspector Harry Hole. Where do you empty those skips of yours? The private ones, yes. Metodica, OK. Where are…Verkseier Furulands vei in Alnabru? Thank you. What? Or Grшnmo? How do I know which one…?'

'Look,' Beate said. 'A traffic jam.'