Free Harry Hole Mysteries 3-Book Bundle by Jo Nesbø

ears.’
    ‘Good,’ said Skarre. ‘Because Birte Becker is the owner of a mobile phone. And a mobile phone sends out signals that can be picked up by base stations in the area where it is located. Not only when you ring, but in fact when you carry a phone on you. That’s why the Americans called it a cellular phone from the very start. Because it is covered by base stations in small areas, in other words, cells. I’ve checked with Telenor, and the base station covering Hoff is still receiving signals from Birte’s phone. But we’ve been through the whole house, and there’s no phone. And she could hardly have lost it by the house, that would be too much of a coincidence. Ergo …’ Skarre raised his hands like a conjuror after pulling off a trick. ‘After this coffee I’m going to contact the Incident Room and send out a search party.’
    ‘Good luck,’ Katrine said, passing him the mobile phone and turning the page.
    ‘That’s one of Hole’s old cases, isn’t it?’ Skarre said.
    ‘Yes, that’s right.’
    ‘He thought a serial killer was on the rampage.’
    ‘I know.’
    ‘Do you? So perhaps you know that he was wrong as well? And it wasn’t the first time. He’s morbidly obsessed with serial killers, Hole is. He thinks this is the USA. But he still hasn’t found his serial killer in this country.’
    ‘There are several serial killers in Sweden. Thomas Quick. John Asonius. Tore Hedin …’
    Magnus Skarre laughed. ‘You’ve done your homework. But if you’d like to learn a couple of things about proper crime detection, I suggest you and I go for a beer.’
    ‘Thank you, I’m not –’
    ‘And maybe a bite to eat. It wasn’t a big lunch box.’ Skarre finally caught her eye and kept it. Her gaze had a strange gleam, as if deep inside there was a fire smouldering. He had never seen a gleam like that before. And he thought he was responsible for it; he had lit the fire and through the conversation he had moved up into her league.
    ‘You could view it as …’ he began and pretended to be searching for the right word, ‘training.’
    She smiled. A broad smile.
    Skarre felt his pulse racing; he was hot, thinking he could already feel her body against his, a stockinged knee against his fingertips, the crackle as his hand slid upwards.
    ‘What do you want, Skarre? To check out the new skirt in the unit?’ Her smile became even broader and the gleam even fiercer. ‘To shag her as soon as you can, the way boys spit on the biggest slices of birthday cake so they can enjoy them in peace before the others?’
    Magnus Skarre had a feeling his jaw had dropped.
    ‘Let me give you a few well-intentioned tips, Skarre. Keep away from women at work. Don’t waste your time drinking coffee in the canteen if you think you’ve got a hot lead. And don’t try to tell me you can call the Incident Room. You ring Inspector Hole, and he’s the one who decides whether a search party will be set up. And then he’ll ring the Emergency Operations Centre where there are people ready, not just a team from here.’
    Katrine scrunched up the greaseproof paper and lobbed it towards the rubbish bin behind Skarre. He didn’t even need to turn to know that she hadn’t missed. She packed her file and stood up, but by then Skarre had managed to collect himself to some degree.
    ‘I don’t know what you’re imagining, Bratt. You’re a married slagwho maybe doesn’t get enough at home and so you’re hoping a guy like me can be bothered … can be bothered to …’ He couldn’t find the words. Shit, he couldn’t find the words. ‘I’m just offering to teach you a thing or two, you whore.’
    Something happened to her face – it was like a curtain being drawn aside to allow him to see into the flames. For a moment he was convinced that she would hit him. But nothing happened. And when she spoke again, he realised that everything had happened in her eyes alone, she hadn’t lifted a finger and her voice was totally