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He found Truls Berntsen in Pegasus. The large restaurant had space for a thousand patrons, but today — the weekly lunchtime race day — only the tables with a view of the track were filled to capacity. There was one table with a customer seated alone, as though he exuded a smell. But a closer look might reveal the reason was in his eyes and also his bearing. Harry pulled out one of the empty chairs and looked out at the racetrack where horses trotted around pulling sulkies with drivers atop, while from the loudspeakers information was spat out in a continuous, monotone voice.

‘That was quick,’ Truls said.

‘Taxi,’ Harry replied.

‘Must be flush then. We could have done this over the phone.’

‘No,’ Harry said, sitting down. They had exchanged exactly twelve words when Harry called. Yes? Harry Hole here, where are you? Bjerke Racecourse. On my way.

‘Is that so, Harry? Have you got involved in shady business?’ Truls let out his grunting laughter, which along with his weak chin, protruding brow and general passive-aggressive demeanour had earned him the nickname Beavis. He and the cartoon character also shared a nihilistic outlook and an almost admirable absence of any sense of social responsibility or morality. The subtext of his question was of course if Harry had also got involved in shady business.

‘I might have an offer for you.’

‘The kind I can’t refuse?’ Truls said, casting a dissatisfied glance out at the track, where the announcer was listing the order of finishers.

‘Unless your betting selection comes in, yeah. You’re out of work, I hear. And have gambling debts.’

‘Gambling debts? Says who?’

‘It’s not important. You’re unemployed, in any case.’

‘I’m not that unemployed. I’m receiving a salary without doing shit. So as far as I’m concerned they can take as long as they like trying to find some evidence, I couldn’t give a toss.’

‘Mm. I heard it was something to do with the skimming of a cocaine seizure at Gardermoen?’

Truls snorted. ‘Me and two others from Narcotics picked up the stuff. This weird, green cocaine. Customs reckoned it was green because it was so pure, as if they were like walking crime labs or something. We delivered it to Seizures who discovered there was a small anomaly in the weight in relation to what Gardermoen had reported. So they sent it for analysis. And the analysis showed that the cocaine, which was just as green as before, had been stepped on. So then they think we cut some of the cocaine with something else green, but screwed up by getting the weight slightly wrong. Or rather me, as I was the only one alone with the dope for a few minutes.’

‘So not only do you risk being fired but prison time?’

‘Are you stupid, or something?’ Truls grunted. ‘They don’t have anything close to proof. A few morons from Customs who think the green stuff looked and tasted like pure cocaine? A difference of a milligram or two in weight that everyone knows could be down to all sorts of things? They’ll bang on about it for a while, and then the case will be dismissed.’

‘Mm. So you’re ruling out them finding another guilty party?’

Truls leaned his head back slightly, looked at Harry as though taking aim at him. ‘I’ve got some stuff involving horses to take care of here, Harry, so if there was something you wanted to talk about?’

‘Markus Røed has hired me to investigate the case of the two girls. I want you on the team.’

‘Bloody hell,’ Truls stared at Harry in surprise.

‘What do you say?’

‘Why are you asking me?’

‘Why do you think?’

‘No idea. I’m a bad cop, and you know that better than most.’

‘All the same, we’ve saved each other’s lives on at least one occasion. According to an old Chinese proverb that means we have a responsibility for one another for the rest of our lives.’

‘Really?’ Truls sounded unsure.

‘Plus,’ Harry said, ‘if you’re only suspended, then you still have full access to BL96?’

Harry noticed Truls flinch when he heard mention of the makeshift, antiquated system for investigation reports in use since 1996.

‘So?’

‘We need access to all the reports. Tactical, technical, forensics.’

‘Right. So this is...?’

‘Yep, shady business.’

‘The kind of thing that can get cops kicked off the force.’

‘If it’s discovered, definitely. And that’s why it’s well paid.’

‘Yeah? How well?’

‘Give me a number and I’ll pass it along.’

Truls looked at Harry for a long time, thoughtfully. Lowered his gaze to the betting slip on the table in front of him. Crumpled it up in his hand.

It was lunchtime at Danielle’s, and the bar and the tables were beginning to fill up. Although situated a few hundred metres from the city centre and the hell of office complexes, it never ceased to surprise Helene that a restaurant located in a residential area got so many patrons on their lunch break.