Free Dregs by Jørn Lier Horst

Line’s notes, which he glanced at while looking out the cat’s dinner. He filled the cat’s dish and stood in front of the table reading the old headlines proclaiming brutal murder. Most of the cases he recognised. The police murder at Eikeren being one. He had known that she was working on a series of interviews and had an appointment with a man in Helgeroa. Now he realised she had been talking about Ken Ronny Hauge. It must be almost twenty years. He didn’t know that the man had moved back.
    There were several other cases, such as the murder of 37-year-old Stine Nymann in 1989, raped and strangled in a park in Mysen. It was not one of the most brutal murders in history, but memorable because it was the first case in Norway in which DNA had been used as evidence.
    One of her other interview subjects was obviously Åge Reinholdt, who had killed twice in his life. In 1974, when he was 23 years of age, he murdered his girlfriend with a knife in a drunken quarrel. That got him eleven years behind bars. Ten years after he was freed, he did the same thing again, and a live-in partner the same age as he was, in Romerike, died of eleven knife wounds. It was evidence of an uncontrollable rage.
    The darkest aspects of the human psyche were portrayed in the newspaper reports and he didn’t like the idea of his daughter empathising with such men or excusing the misery they caused.
    When Buster was full he stretched and padded off to the living room. Wisting opened the refrigerator, which was rarely so well filled, and contemplated whether he should fry the slices of beef. Looking at the time, he decided that it was too late. According to the date stamp they would last another couple of days.
    There was a noise at the front door and Line called from the hallway. He greeted her with a hug. ‘Are you hungry?’
    ‘No,’ she answered, taking off her shoes. ‘I ate out.’
    ‘I just need to have a sandwich.’
    She followed him into the kitchen. ‘I didn’t mean to leave all this mess,’ she apologised, starting to tidy up all her paperwork.
    ‘Let it lie,’ Wisting waved her away. ‘I’ll eat in the living room.’
    He buttered himself a couple of slices and put them on a plate. Line filled a glass with milk. ‘Are you going to interview all of them?’ he asked, nodding towards the kitchen table.
    ‘That’s the idea.’
    ‘Most people would give a lot to avoid having anything to do with any of them.’
    Line drank from her glass. ‘I’m obviously not like most people, then,’ she smiled, wiping round her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘Do you remember the police murder in 1991?’
    Wisting nodded. ‘I saw the newspaper cutting. Has he been freed already?’
    ‘He got 21 years, but was released on licence a year and a half ago. Moved back home to Helgeroa. I’ve an appointment with him on Friday.’
    ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’
    Line gave no reply. ‘How many murderers have you talked to?’ she asked.
    Wisting took a bite of his sandwich and chewed while he thought.
    ‘Eight,’ he answered, swallowing. From some place or other came a thought that there had been more murderers than women in his life.
    ‘Are there any of them who have killed more than once?’
    ‘You know that of course. You’ve written about some of the cases. A new murder is committed in order to cover up the first one.’
    ‘Yes, but I’m thinking about whether anyone has killed again after they have served their sentence?’
    Wisting shook his head.
    ‘That’s the topic I’m writing about. Whether punishment actually helps.’
    Wisting took another bite.
    ‘Have you found any answers?’
    ‘I’d like the readers to find the answer for themselves, but have you not wondered whether there’s any point in punishment?’
    He had asked himself the question many times. All too many of the people he arrested came back and committed new, worse crimes as soon as they had served their sentences. Prisons functioned as a