The Snowman ( PDFDrive )

The same ones that the individual in question wore in Sollihøgda. The motive would be to make it
seem as if Vetlesen was the Snowman, of course.’
‘A shoelace and cheap boots?’ shouted an inspector from Lepsvik’s team. ‘We have a sicko who
wanted to buy sexual favours off children, who knew both victims here in Oslo and whom we can
place at the crime scene. All you have is speculation.’
The tall policeman bowed his shorn skull. ‘That’s correct, as far as it goes. But now I’m coming to
hard facts. On the face of it, Idar Vetlesen took his own life with carnadrioxide by inserting a
syringe with a very fine point into a vein. According to the post-mortem, the concentration of
carnadrioxide was so great that he must have injected twenty millilitres into his arm. That stacks up
with the residue inside the syringe, which showed that it had been full. Carnadrioxide, as we now
know, is a paralysing substance and even small doses can kill as the heart and respiratory organs are
instantly incapacitated. According to the pathologist, it would take at most three seconds for an
adult to die if that dose was injected into a vein, as was the case with Idar Vetlesen. And that simply
does not make sense.’
Hole waved a piece of paper on which Hagen could see he had jotted down some numbers in pencil.
‘I’ve done some tests on myself with the same kind of syringe and needle as Vetlesen used. I
injected a salt-water solution which matches carnadrioxide in that all such solutions are at least
ninety-five per cent water. And I’ve kept track of the numbers. However hard I pressed, the narrow
needle means that you can’t inject twenty millilitres in less than eight seconds. Ergo ’ The
inspector waited for the inescapable conclusion to sink in before continuing. ‘Vetlesen would have
been paralysed before injecting a third of the contents. In short, he can’t have injected everything.
Not without help.’
Hagen swallowed. This day was going to be even worse than he had anticipated.
When the meeting was over, Hagen saw the Chief Constable whisper something into the Chief
Superintendent’s ear and the Chief Superintendent leaned over to Hagen.
‘Ask Hole and his team to meet in my office now. And put a muzzle on Lepsvik and his lot. Not
one word of this must get out. Understand?’
Hagen did understand. Five minutes later they were sitting in the Chief Superintendent’s large,
cheerless office.
Katrine Bratt closed the door and was the last person to sit down. Harry Hole had slid into his chair,
and his outstretched legs rested directly in front of the Chief Superintendent’s desk.
‘Let me be brief,’ the Chief Superintendent said, running a hand across his face as if to erase what
he saw: an investigation team back at square one. ‘Have you any good news, Hole? To sweeten the
bitter fact that in your mysterious absence we have told the press that the Snowman is dead as a
result of our unflagging toil.’
‘Well, we can assume that Idar Vetlesen knew something he should not have done, and that the
killer discovered we were on his trail and therefore eliminated the possibility that he might be
unmasked. If that’s correct, it’s still true that Vetlesen died as a result of our unflagging toil.’
The Chief Superintendent’s cheeks had gone rosy with the stress. ‘That’s not what I mean by good
news, Hole.’