'No!' Mшller snapped. 'We're not starting all that again.'

Harry shrugged and stepped over a newspaper stand which had been blown down. In the street a newspaper was flicking through its own pages at a furious tempo.

'So what do you want?'

'The Chief is, naturally enough, preoccupied with the PR side of things. An isolated bank raid is forgotten by the general public long before the case is dropped. No one notices that the man hasn't been caught. On this occasion, however, everyone's eyes are on us. And the more talk there is about raids of this kind, the more the public's curiosity is aroused. Martin Pedersen was a normal person who did what many dream about; he was a modern Jesse James escaping from the law. That sort of case creates myths, heroes, and people identify with it. Hence, further recruitment for the bank-robbing industry. The number of bank raids soared right across the country while the press were writing about Martin Pedersen.'

'You're frightened of this spreading. Fair enough. What's that got to do with me?'

'As I said, no one doubts Ivarsson's efficiency. No one doubts that. He is a correct, traditional policeman who never oversteps the line. The Expeditor, however, is no traditional bank robber. The Chief is not happy with the results so far.' Mшller nodded towards the prison. 'The episode with Raskol has reached his ears.'

'Mm.'

'I was in the Chief's office before lunch and your name was mentioned. Several times, in fact.'

'My God, should I feel honoured?'

'You are, at any rate, an investigator who has achieved results using unconventional methods.'

Harry's smile stretched into a sneer. 'A kind definition of a kamikaze pilot…'

'In a nutshell, the message is this, Harry. Drop everything else you're doing and tell me if you need more people. Ivarsson will continue with his team, but we're relying on you. And one more thing…' Mшller had stepped closer to Harry. 'You have a free rein. We're willing to accept that rules can be bent. In return, this must stay within the force, of course.'

'Mm. I think I understand. And if it doesn't?'

'We'll back you up as far as we're able, but there's a limit. That goes without saying.'

Elmer turned when the bells above the door rang and nodded towards the little portable radio he was standing in front of: 'And there was me thinking Kandahar was a skiing club. Twenty Camel?'

Harry assented. Elmer turned down the volume of the radio and the news commentator's voice joined the buzz of sounds outside-cars, the wind catching the awning, the leaves being swept along the tarmac.

'Anything for your colleague?' Elmer motioned towards the door where Mшller was standing.

'He'd like a kamikaze pilot,' Harry said, opening the packet.

'Really?'

'But he's forgotten to ask the price,' Harry said and could sense Mшller's sweetly sardonic smile without needing to turn.

'And what is the going rate for kamikaze pilots nowadays?' the kiosk owner asked, handing over Harry's change.

'If he survives, he's allowed to take on the jobs he wants afterwards,' Harry said. 'That's the only condition he makes. And the only one he insists on.'

'Sounds reasonable,' Elmer says. 'Have a good day, gentlemen.'

On the way back Mшller said he would talk to the Chief Superintendent about the possibility of Harry working on the Ellen Gjelten case for three months. Provided the Expeditor was caught, that was. Harry agreed. Mшller hesitated in front of the DON'T WALK ON THE GRASS sign.

'It's the shortest route, boss.'

'Yes,' Mшller said. 'But my shoes will get dirty.'

'As you wish,' Harry said, walking up the track. 'Mine are filthy already.'

***

The traffic eased after the turn-off to Ulvшya. It had stopped raining and the Ljan road was already dry. Soon it widened into four carriageways and it was like a starting grid for cars to accelerate and race off. Harry looked over at Halvorsen and wondered when he, too, would hear the heart-stopping screams. But Halvorsen didn't hear anything as he had taken Travis's exhortation-they were on the radio-literally:

'Sing, sing, siiing!'

'Halvorsen…'

'For the love you bring…'

Harry turned down the radio and Halvorsen gave him an uncomprehending look.

'Windscreen wipers,' Harry said. 'You can switch them off now.'

'Oh, yes, sorry.'

They drove on in silence. Passed the exit for Drшbak.

'What did you say to the grocer guy?' Harry asked.

'You won't want to know.'

'But he had delivered food to Albu's chalet one Thursday five weeks ago?'

'That was what he said, yes.'

'Before Albu arrived?'

'He only said he used to let himself in.'

'So he has a key?'

'Harry, there were limits to what I could ask for with my paper-thin pretext.'

'What pretext did you give?'

Halvorsen sighed. 'County council surveyor.'

'County council sur-?'

'-veyor.'

'What's that?'

'Don't know.'

Larkollen was just off the motorway, thirteen slow kilometres and fourteen tight bends away.

'To the right by the red house after the petrol station,' Halvorsen recited from memory and turned up into a gravel driveway.

'A lot of shower mats,' Harry mumbled five minutes later when Halvorsen had pulled up and pointed to the enormous log construction between the trees. It looked like an overgrown mountain chalet which following a minor misunderstanding had ended up by the sea.

'Bit deserted here, isn't it,' Halvorsen said, looking at the neighbouring chalets. 'Just seagulls. Loads of seagulls. Perhaps there's a rubbish dump nearby.'

'Mm.' Harry checked his watch. 'Let's just park a little further up the road anyway.'

The road ended in a turning area. Halvorsen switched off the ignition and Harry opened the car door and got out. Stretched his back and listened to the screams of the gulls and the distant roar of waves beating against the rocks by the beach.

'Ah,' Halvorsen said, filling his lungs. 'This is a bit different from Oslo air, eh?'

'No doubt about that,' Harry said, searching for his packet of cigarettes. 'Will you take the metal case?'

On the path up to the chalet Harry noticed a large yellow-and-white gull on a fencepost. The head turned slowly round on its body as they passed. Harry felt he could sense the shiny bird's eyes on his back the whole way up.

'This won't be easy,' Halvorsen declared once they had taken a closer look at the solid lock on the outside door. He had hung his cap on a wrought-iron light above the heavy oak door.

'Mm. You'll just have to get stuck in.' Harry lit a cigarette. 'I'll go and have a quick recce in the meantime.'

'Why is it you're suddenly smoking so much more than before?' Halvorsen asked, opening the case.

Harry stood still for a moment and let his eyes drift towards the forest. 'To give you a chance to beat me at cycling one day.'

***

Pitch-black logs, solid windows. Everything about the chalet seemed sturdy and impenetrable. Harry wondered if it would be possible to get in through the impressive stone chimney, but rejected the idea. He walked down the path. The rain of recent days had churned it up, but he could easily imagine the small feet and bare legs of children running down a sun-baked path in the summer, on their way to the beach behind the sea-smoothed rocks. He stopped and closed his eyes. Until the sounds came. The buzz of insects, the swish of the tall grass rippling in the breeze, a distant radio and a song floating to and fro on the wind and children's gleeful shouts from the beach. He had been ten years old and gingerly making his way to the shop to buy milk and bread. The small stones had buried themselves in the soles of his feet, but he had clenched his teeth because he had made up his mind to harden his feet that summer so as to run barefoot with Шystein when he returned home. As he walked back, the heavy shopping bag had seemed to press him deeper into the gravel path; it felt as if he had been walking on glowing coals. He had focused his attention on something a little way ahead-a large stone or a leaf-and told himself he only had to get there, it wasn't that far. When he finally did arrive home, one and a half hours later, the milk was off and his mother angry. Harry opened his eyes. Grey clouds were scurrying across the sky.