Free The Human Flies (K2 and Patricia series) by Hans Olav Lahlum Page B

who functions normally. I believe we are looking for a human fly.’
    Despite the fact that my knowledge of zoology is perhaps better than average, I have to confess that this was an unknown species to me – and I certainly did not understand why she was talking about it now. Having wracked my brains for a minute or so, I had to swallow the bitter pill and ask what she meant. She attempted to give an apologetic smile, without much success.
    ‘I am sorry – I wasn’t thinking. It is a concept that I made up myself and have used so much since that I forget that it is not something that other people understand. But I do think that it may be relevant here. There are a good many people who at some point in their lives have experienced something so painful and traumatic that they never get over it. They become human flies and spend more or less the rest of their life circling round what happened. Like flies round a rubbish tip, to use a simple analogy. I think that Harald Olesen himself, behind his suit and mask, was in fact a human fly. And I have a strong suspicion that he was killed by another one.’
    I now understood what she meant – and immediately saw a possible link to my own preliminary theories.
    ‘Which would point to Konrad Jensen?’
    Patricia wagged her head thoughtfully before answering.
    ‘Yes and no. At the moment, Konrad Jensen is the most obvious human fly among the neighbours. But I suspect that he is not the only one, and I for various reasons doubt that he is the right one. It would be more plausible that he was the murderer if we could find a direct link between his background in the war and Harald Olesen’s.’
    I had to agree with what she had said so far. And it suddenly occurred to me that I should ask what her thoughts were regarding the blue raincoat. She lit up when I mentioned it and gave me a much longed-for compliment.
    ‘You are absolutely right – it may be crucial. Once we have established who threw the blue raincoat away, I think we will be hard on the heels of the murderer. The problem is that it was not found until Friday morning. And I am sure that you did not go through the residents’ wardrobes on Thursday evening in search of a blue raincoat?’
    This was my opportunity for a welcome small victory.
    ‘Of course we did not search their wardrobes for a blue raincoat that we knew nothing about, but I think we can say with reasonable certainty that it was not to be seen in any of the neighbours’ flats late on Thursday night. No one has made a note of a large blue raincoat, and it would not be particularly easy to hide something like that in the event of a house search.’
    For a moment I thought that Patricia was about to get out of her wheelchair. For about thirty seconds her eyes flashed and her body tensed.
    ‘Brilliant,’ she almost whispered. ‘It is still not a determining factor, but may prove to be.’
    I waited for further explanation, but soon realized that this would not be forthcoming. So instead I asked what she made of the neighbours’ statements. This time she was quick to answer.
    ‘There are still an extraordinary number of secrets in that building. The fact that all those people have ended up in the same building is suspicious in itself. The American diplomat is perhaps strangest of all, but the student from Sweden, rentier from Oppland and millionaire’s daughter from Bærum do not really belong on the east side of the river in Torshov either. Some of them may have ended up there by chance – that goes without saying – but that is certainly not the case for all of them. In fact, I suspect that only one of the residents has been completely open and honest so far.’
    She stopped abruptly, no doubt knowing that I would ask who. When I did, she gave me the most tantalizing smile and tore a page from her notebook. With her left hand hiding the page, she dashed off some words before folding the paper. Then she rang the bell for the maid. While we waited,