The Snowman ( PDFDrive )

‘Yes, Støp does get a lot of fan mail, of course. And groupies. What about you, Hole? Have you got
groupies, too? Do the police have their own groupies, as it were?’
The audience laughed cautiously.
Harry Hole shook his head.
‘Come on,’ Bosse said. ‘A female recruit must sometimes come and ask for a bit of extra tuition on
body searches.’
The studio was really laughing now. With gusto. Bosse grinned with pleasure.
Harry Hole didn’t even crack a smile; he just looked resigned and cast a glance towards the exit.
For one short, frantic moment Oda had visions of him getting up and leaving. Instead he turned to
Støp in the chair beside him.
‘What do you do, Støp? When a woman comes to you after a lecture in Trondheim, saying she has
only one breast, but she would like to have sex with you. Do you invite her for a bit of extracurricular
in your hotel room?’
The audience went deadly quiet, and even Bosse looked perplexed.
Only Arve Støp seemed to think the question was amusing. ‘No, I don’t think I would do that. Not
because sex wouldn’t be fun with only one breast, but because the hotel beds in Trondheim are so
narrow.’
The audience laughed, though without conviction, mostly from relief that the exchange had not
been more embarrassing. The psychologist was introduced.
They talked about playful adults, and Oda noticed that Bosse was navigating the conversation away
from Harry Hole. He must have decided that the unpredictable policeman was not on form today.
And therefore Arve Støp, who definitely was on form, had even more airtime.
‘How do you play, Støp?’ Bosse asked with an innocent expression underlining the non-innocent
subtext. Oda rejoiced – she had written that question.
But before Støp could answer, Harry Hole leaned forward and asked him in loud, clear tones. ‘Do
you make snowmen?’
And that was when Oda knew that something was amiss. Hole’s peremptory, angry tone, the
aggressive body language; Støp who raised an eyebrow in surprise as his face seemed to shrink and
tense up. Bosse paused. Oda didn’t know what was going on, but counted four seconds, an eternity
on live TV. Then she realised that Bosse knew what he was doing. For even though Bosse saw it as
his duty to create a good atmosphere on the panel, he of course knew that the most important thing,
his highest duty, was to entertain. And there is no better entertainment than people who are angry,
lose control, cry, break down or in some other way display their feelings in front of a large audience
on the air. Accordingly, he had simply let go of the reins and just looked at Støp.
‘Of course I make snowmen,’ Støp said after the four seconds were up. ‘I make them on the roof
terrace beside my swimming pool. I make each one look like a member of the royal family. In that
way – when spring comes – I can look forward to the unseasonable elements melting and