Free The Hunting Dogs by Jørn Lier Horst

thoughts identical to her father’s ran through Line’s mind.
     Something did not add up.

18
    The conference began at eight o’clock, a joint meeting for the officers coming on
     dayshift to be informed about the previous day’s events and given instructions for
     the day ahead. Last to arrive, Wisting sat at the head of the conference table. Few
     met his gaze. Of those present only Nils Hammer had worked in the department at the
     time of the Cecilia case.
    ‘Before we begin,’ he said. ‘I expect you’ve heard what’s going on in the Cecilia
     case. I don’t know any more than is being reported. Sigurd Henden, the lawyer, made
     an approach two months ago, requesting case files and investigation material. They
     were dispatched from here that same week. Now we wait for the Criminal Cases Review
     Commission. It’s up to them to decide whether the case should go back to law.’
    One of the younger officers wanted to know what would be required for a retrial.
    ‘New evidence has to be presented or fresh information found, capable of leading to
     an acquittal. Or one of the detectives working on the case might have done something
     illegal.’
    As he clarified the situation to his colleagues it dawned on him that the defence
     lawyer could have a double motive; that the accusations against him would not only
     figure in the press, but would also lead to an internal investigation. One would follow
     the other.
    He cleared his throat to show he was finished with that topic, and embarked on a chronological
     review of the previous day’s operational log, dealing with routine matters: attempted
     burglary, car theft, stray dogs and drugs misuse.
    When the meeting was over, he descended to the basement and followed the corridor
     to the door marked Historical Archive . He did not often venture here. When he occasionally required sight of an old case
     the girls in the criminal cases office usually helped. The fluorescent light tubes
     on the ceiling buzzed and flickered and the room was bathed in a blinding light.
    Old case notes were stored in a huge sliding cabinet system. In some instances, the
     standard cardboard archive box was too small, and these cases had been placed in large
     portable containers stacked on shelves along the wall. There was an empty space on
     one of the grey shelves. Beside it was a box marked 2735/95 – Cecilia Linde. Copy transcripts, Chief Investigator.
    Lifting the box from the shelf, Wisting caught the slightly musty smell of old paper.
     At the top lay a blue ring binder marked Tip-offs. He carried it with him along the row of shelves to another cardboard box. 2694/94 – Ellen Robekk , an even greater mystery. Eighteen-year-old Ellen Robekk had vanished into thin air,
     just like Cecilia, but had never been found.
    Frank Robekk had been her uncle and the case had destroyed his police career. The
     feeling of inadequacy caused by being unable to help his own family became a wound
     that would not heal, that eventually became infected. The day they placed Rudolf Haglund
     in the cells, Frank had taken out the archive box dealing with Ellen’s disappearance,
     reading the whole case over again, but this time with fresh eyes. Eyes that had seen
     Rudolf Haglund.
    When he had been through everything that had been written, he started again. And then
     once more, and yet again. It had done something to him. The man who might have the
     answer to his niece’s disappearance was within reach, but he could not find a link.
    They had been unable to use Frank on any other investigations after he had started
     this remorseless reading. He had been unable to pull himself together sufficiently
     even to carry out simple tasks and, one month later, left the police station for the
     last time, without finding any suggestion of a connection. Without finding an answer
     he could give to his brother. Eventually, long-term sick leave was replaced by disability
     pension.
    Wisting visited him frequently