Free Blessed Are Those Who Thirst by Anne Holt Page B

have even half a day.
    The piles of documents facing her were making her feel sick. If the inhabitants of the city had any idea how helpless the police were currently, as they staggered through the crime wave, barely able to keep their heads above water, there would be such an outcry they would be granted an extra hundred million kroner and fifty new posts on the spot. Currently, the police’s ability to keep criminality at bay was an illusion, pure and simple. This would be the right time to commit a major crime, Hanne Wilhelmsen surmised. Ninety-nine percent chance of not being caught.
    She should not have had that thought.
    The robbery alarm sounded. The intercom system was linked up, and the superintendent’s deep monotone voice reached everyone in the department. Nor Savings Bank in Sagene had been raided. Everyone had to assemble in the conference room. Quick as lightning, she donned her motorbike helmet and leather jacket.
    She just missed getting away with it. Only a meter and a halffrom the door to freedom at the top of the staircase leading to the personnel entrance, she was grabbed by the collar. The superintendent laughed when she turned around, shamefaced.
    “Don’t try to kid a kidder,” he said. “Get yourself to the meeting room.”
    “No, honestly,” she ventured. “I need to go out. Anyway, I’ve so much on my plate just now I can’t contribute anything at all. Really. Honestly. I simply can’t take on anything more.”
    Possibly it was something in her tone of voice. Probably it was of some importance that she was decidedly his best detective. Or maybe it was her unusually tired facial expression, with obvious dark circles below her eyes and an unbecoming sharpness in her profile. Whatever it was, the superintendent stood for a moment, evidently uncertain.
    “Okay, then,” he said finally. “Off you go. But don’t make it a habit.”
    Infinitely relieved, she headed for the door. What she was going to do, she had no idea. She just had to get out.
    *   *   *
    One thing was just as good as another. It was impossible to visit a crime scene too many times. Anyhow, it would give her a sense of doing something specific.
    They bumped into each other in the doorway. She was fishing out the keys from the pocket of her leather jacket when he came barging out. Hanne Wilhelmsen had to take a step back to avoid falling over. The enormous man was equally jolted. He apologized profusely, at length, before recognizing her.
    The dentist was too old to blush. Moreover, his skin was coarse and unshaven, which would hardly allow any redness to show through. Nevertheless, Hanne Wilhelmsen noticed a slight twitch in his eyes as he hastily explained that he had been visiting his daughter’s apartment to collect something. He suddenly realized he was not carrying anything.
    “Unfortunately, it wasn’t there,” he said by way of excuse. “She must have been mistaken.”
    Detective Inspector Hanne Wilhelmsen said nothing. The awkward silence was in her favor. He knew that, as he coughed abruptly, looking at his watch and adding that he was late for an important meeting.
    “Could you come for a brief interview with me at eight o’clock tomorrow morning?” she asked, without giving him the opportunity to slip past her.
    He considered for a fleeting moment.
    “Tomorrow morning? Um, that would be a bit difficult, I think. It’s so busy right now.”
    “It’s quite important. We’ll meet at eight o’clock, okay?”
    It was clear he felt extremely uneasy.
    “Well, all right, eight o’clock then. Perhaps a few minutes past?”
    “That’s absolutely fine.” She smiled. “A few minutes before or after won’t matter at all.”
    Then she let him by. She remained standing there, following him with her eyes until he was sitting in his car some distance away. She went upstairs to her old friend on the first floor, where she received another overwhelming welcome and the expected confirmation that a very