The Hunting Dogs (10 page)

Among the contents of the cardboard box was an unfiled, stapled sheaf of papers, a
printout from a database containing an overview of everyone involved, with each name
allocated a reference. Thus it was a simple matter to find someone when the name appeared
again. It also simplified the checking of named tip-offs.

There was no corresponding method for discovering which police personnel had been
involved and what actions they had taken. Any one of them could have let themselves
into the crime lab and exchanged evidence item A-3. If Wisting included cleaning,
canteen, janitorial, civilian and other office staff, there were more than seventy
people with access to the police station by means of an admittance card and personal
code. All such ingress was stored in a computer system. The information would still
be available but sorting would be a hopeless task. The exchange could have taken place
at any time in the course of the three days Rudolf Haglund was held in custody, or
it could have happened on any of the following days before Finn Haber sent the cigarette
butts off for analysis.

Of the seventy members of staff, only twenty worked in the criminal investigation
department. The enquiry had occurred during the general holiday period when a couple
of detectives had been abroad. Of the eighteen who turned up, twelve became directly
involved. If any of them had a motive to falsify the evidence it was reasonable to
assume it would be someone in contact with Rudolf Haglund. Wisting was the person
who had spent most time with him, but there were others.

Working methodically, he placed the red ring binder marked
Accused
in front of him. It contained everything concerning Rudolf Haglund.

At the very front was a list of personal details. Wisting himself had filled out the
spaces on the standard form during the first interview. In addition to his name, date
of birth, address and phone number, the report contained information about his employer,
job title, income, education, qualifications, and a list of convictions.

The next document was a decision in pursuance of the Criminal Procedure Act §175 regarding
the arrest of Rudolf Haglund. The actual sheet of paper was still called a blue form
because, prior to the introduction of computers in police matters, the police lawyer
recorded the decision on a blue sheet of paper. The document was stamped and signed
by Police Prosecutor Audun Vetti and dealt with the formalities and basis for the
arrest, though it did not contain any information about the actual case.

The blue form was accompanied by a separate document entitled
Report on Prisoner in Custody
. This too was a standard form containing information about the case, the time and
place of the arrest, the name of the prisoner, where he was being transferred and
which police lawyer had instructed that he be held in custody.

Nils Hammer and Frank Robekk were the arresting officers.

In the corner cabinet, Wisting found a writing pad and ballpoint pen. He clenched
his teeth and drummed the pen on the blank sheet. His intention was to draw up a list
of his colleagues who had been in direct contact with Rudolf Haglund. Clicking the
pen a couple of times, he noted the first two names before leafing further through
the folder. The next document was a report detailing the search and seizure of belongings.
The items in Haglund’s possession when he was arrested were: a wallet, keys, pocketknife
and tobacco. This report had been written by Nils Hammer.

There were three reports concerning the investigations carried out at Haglund’s smallholding
in Dolven. The first was a report about a fruitless search with dogs. The next described
the crime scene technicians’ unproductive examinations led by Finn Haber. The third
was a tactical search led by Nils Hammer. They had seized foreign porn magazines and
films with titles such as
Teenager
and
Preteens
, as well as sado-masochistic journals. These confirmed Haglund’s sexual preferences
and underpinned their belief that he was the right man.

There then followed the interviews that Wisting himself had written in ink, interspersed
with reports about how Haglund was transported between the police station and the
remand cell at the prison, and how he had been given a medical examination.

The list of names lengthened. It included retired police officers, detectives who
had left the service and applied for jobs in the private sector, or had been employed
in the
Økokrim
police financial branch or
Kripos
, the national criminal investigation section. Of all the names listed, only Nils
Hammer was still working in the local department.

Wisting ran his eye up and down the list. They were all experienced, competent and
dependable people. Many of them had been excellent role models for him and trusted
colleagues, such as Frank Robekk.

Each time he came across one of the names, he placed a vertical line to its right
on the pad. One name stood out: Nils Hammer. The numbers spoke for themselves. In
the material, there were twenty-three intersections between Nils Hammer and Rudolf
Haglund. Next on the list was himself with seventeen meetings, followed by Finn Haber
with twelve.

Leaning back, he lifted his eyes to the window. Outside, the sky was even darker,
and a cargo ship was journeying westwards. He trusted Nils Hammer, who had taken Frank
Robekk’s place. There was a certain security in having Hammer on an investigation
team. Wisting could always rely on the tasks he assigned being accomplished in the
fastest possible time. Again, Hammer was not an adherent of formalities. Some of his
effectiveness was due to his ability to take shortcuts across the rules, and he could
be extremely creative in the context of an investigation.

All the same, the list facing him was nothing more than data open to interpretation.
The result could just as easily be a consequence of Nils Hammer’s commitment and willingness
to take on work-related tasks. He clicked his pen another couple of times before obliterating
the whole list. He needed to find a different approach, but for now had no idea what
that might be.

Around two o’clock, the rain stopped, but low clouds still hung heavy in the sky.
The sea was the colour of slate and capped with waves of foam. Wisting took his phone
with him onto the verandah. He could hear the steady sound of water dripping from
the trees, and somewhere a bird chirping.

A long list of unanswered calls awaited. His father had phoned twice. There were unknown
numbers, probably news editors. Nils Hammer’s name appeared halfway down the list,
and he had left a message on voicemail. Possibly news of the missing girl on what
would be called the Linnea case if she did not turn up safe and well. The message
was brief. He simply wanted Wisting to know that he was there for him, should he need
anything. He had also spoken to their trade union leader who had offered to cover
legal costs if it came to that.

He deleted the message and called his father, who could not hide his upset. The old
man spoke rapidly, his pitch rising as he spoke. ‘I knew it would be bad, but not
as awful as this,’ the old man said. ‘You are being pilloried, pure and simple. Prejudged.
And this Audun Vetti …’ He almost spat out the name. ‘Nothing but legal procedure.’

Wisting peered indoors at the case documents spread across the coffee table as he
spoke to his father, explaining the background to the newspaper headlines, confirming
that someone really had faked evidence. He did not have to confirm that he was not
the culprit.

Afterwards, he keyed in Suzanne’s number, told her what had happened and what he thought.
Suzanne seemed distant and preoccupied. He could hear her moving glasses and plates
around, and the noise made by the café dishwasher. ‘How are things with you?’ he asked.

She explained that there were fewer customers than usual, and the way she said this
made it sound as though she blamed him. They exchanged a few insignificant pleasantries
until some customers approached the counter and she had to round off the conversation.
Click and empty silence.

He stood motionless, with the mobile phone in his hand, recalling a conversation of
last autumn.

He had guested on a talk show, discussing the discovery of a dead body in the programme
host’s summer cottage. The celebrity had persuaded him to say more than he had intended
about things he normally did not reveal to anyone: the dangers of the job, how he
had risked his life several times, even about the time he had been forced to kill
someone in the line of duty. Before the camera’s gaze, he described how he had already
planned his own funeral, including that the service should open with the hymn
Where Roses Never Die
.

Strange to hear himself speak about such things; it had been alienating for Suzanne.
‘I don’t like the way you put yourself and your work above your nearest and dearest.
I need to feel secure around the man I live with. Even when we’re not actually together.
How can I feel safe when I hear what goes on in your work? I can’t relax when you’re
not at home. Every single night I wonder whether that will be the one you don’t come
home. That you’ve gone too far by placing a case about strangers above yourself and
your family.’

Stuffing the mobile into his pocket he returned inside, sat in the armchair and drew
the black ring binder towards him, the so-called null and void documents. The folder
was divided into five sections, five theories for the Cecilia case that had been put
aside the moment Rudolf Haglund’s name cropped up.

First the ransom theory. Kidnapping and demands for money were not matters they had
a great deal of experience with at the police station, but it was one of the first
ideas to be discussed with Nora and Johannes Linde. One month prior to the abduction,
Finansavisen
, the financial newspaper, published an overview of Norway’s wealthiest families,
and the Lindes were accorded ninth place. Their business and personal lives were splashed
across two pages, accompanied by a photograph of their beautiful country estate on
the Vestfold coast, a feature that could have encouraged exactly this type of crime.

Both parents had been insistent that they wanted to pay if any ransom demand arrived,
but agreed for the police to supervise. Every hour that passed without the kidnappers
making contact, however, diminished their hopes of buying Cecilia’s return.

The next theory was also linked to Johannes Linde’s business activities. Linde had
established the firm called
Canes
in partnership with Richard Kloster. Kloster had been bought out of the business
six months before the first successful fashion collection was launched, and had taken
legal proceedings against the Linde company. This had to do with ownership and rights
to product names. Richard Kloster was already being investigated for tax evasion,
and reports were circulating about possible money laundering. This theory had the
kidnappers located in Richard Kloster’s circle, and that Linde already knew what he
had to do to free his daughter.

They had induced
Økokrim
to re-order their priorities in the case and draw up a charge against Kloster supplying
grounds for search and seizure of his property. In conjunction with the financial
investigators, they had scoured his home, his cottage, his yacht and all the other
places where he spent time, without finding anything suspicious.

Frank Robekk had been responsible for the third theory:
The burglary.

When the Linde family moved to their summerhouse at the end of June, they discovered
that there had been a break-in. Frank Robekk was assigned responsibility for checking
any connection between the break-in and the disappearance three weeks later.

The burglar had entered through a window in Cecilia’s room, and it did not seem that
he had been anywhere other than her room. An intruder alarm was installed in the public
rooms of the house, but did not seem to have been activated. It did not appear that
anything had been stolen. Cecilia thought a sweater might be missing, but she had
so many that she could not be absolutely certain. The break-in was never cleared up.

The fourth proposal concerned Cecilia’s boyfriend, the photographer Danny Flom, since
violent crimes are often carried out by someone close to the victim. Nils Hammer had
been assigned to this.

Wisting was never entirely able to figure out Danny Flom. Two years older than Cecilia,
he had worked as a freelance photographer for a number of media bureaux. They had
met two years earlier on a photoshoot for one of Linde’s collections. When Wisting
cast his mind back, it struck him that Danny Flom reminded him of Tommy Kvanter, Line’s
former boyfriend. A man who very obviously had a dark as well as a light side. Flom
had years of practice in hiding his dark side, but Wisting recognised an expression
that occasionally crossed his face. In general he was pleasant and forthcoming, with
something almost bohemian about him that was alien to the streamlined lifestyle of
the Lindes. Cecilia’s parents described him as entertaining, charming and cheerful,
but they had also experienced his mood swings, sides of him that Cecilia was blind
to. It was obvious that Johannes Linde in particular was not especially keen on the
relationship.

His record showed no previous convictions. He had been fined a couple of times for
smoking hash, and one allegation of assault had been dropped after the accusation
was withdrawn. They had also discovered another woman, a female photographer who had
accompanied him on a work-related trip shortly after he and Cecilia met. He had confirmed
the relationship when they confronted him, but maintained that it had only been a
brief fling, and that Cecilia knew about it. The woman involved had given a matching
explanation.

What was certain was that Danny Flom’s influence on Cecilia had been enormous, and
that had suggested a fourth theory:
Staging.
In other countries the police had experienced daughters of wealthy men staging their
own abduction with their boyfriends to obtain money for a new life, free from her
parents. This theory was never actively worked on.

The fifth theory was called the
List Project
, simply that Cecilia Linde had been abducted by person or persons unknown.

Pursuing an unknown perpetrator was one of the most demanding of all tasks, and no
shortcuts could be taken. In such cases, quality of information mattered as much as
quantity. They had to make a broad sweep in an effort to chart all movement along
the route Cecilia had probably taken, and identify everyone then present in the vicinity.
The result was an extremely long list of names that could be divided by gender and
age, sorted and ranked by domicile, hair colour, clothing, sometimes vehicle, smoker/non-smoker,
right-handed/left-handed.

Lists. Lengthy boring lists of things that probably would never lead anywhere but
in the end, it could be statistical trains of thought that provided the solution.
In the Cecilia case, the list of names was compared with the register of owners of
white Opel Rekords and a list of men previously convicted of sex crimes.

It was like trailing a fishing net behind a boat, trawling the waters with no discrimination
about what was caught. This was how they had found Rudolf Haglund, but the net they
had used was coarse-meshed, and the likelihood that something or someone had slipped
through was high.

Wisting leaned back in his seat. It might be worthwhile now, seventeen years after
the events, to run through the lists again. They had already searched back in time
to see if anything existed on the listed persons’ records. The thinking being that
the kidnapper might have done something similar
before
. Again, if they had captured the wrong man, he might have done something similar
in
later
years.

He let the pages slip through his fingers. Without access to the police computer systems
this was a dead end.