The Snowman ( PDFDrive )

over the driest of deserts you demonstrate the use of the life jacket. Because the statement proclaims
what you want to hear: you’re allowed to be frightened, but we’ll take care of you.
It was time to check her perception of reality.
‘Do you know what day it is today?’
Silence.
‘Look at the clock on the wall over there. Can you tell me what time it is?’
She received a hunted stare by way of an answer.
Kjersti Rødsmoen waited. And waited. The minute hand of the clock shifted with a quivering
goose-step.
It was hopeless.
‘I’m going now,’ Kjersti said. ‘Someone will come and fetch you. You’re quite safe.’
She went to the door.
‘I have to talk to Harry.’ Her voice was deep, almost masculine.
Kjersti stopped and turned. ‘Who’s Harry?’
‘Harry Hole. It’s urgent.’
Kjersti tried to establish eye contact, but the woman was still staring into her own distant world.
‘I’m afraid you’ll have to tell me who Harry Hole is, Katrine.’
‘Crime Squad Inspector in Oslo. And if you have to say my name, use my surname, Kjersti.’
‘Bratt?’
‘Rafto.’
‘I see. But can’t you tell me what you want to talk to Harry Hole about, so that I can pass it on –’
‘You don’t understand. They’re all going to die.’
Kjersti sank slowly back onto the chair. ‘I do understand. And why do you think they’re going to
die, Katrine?’
And finally there was eye contact. And what Kjersti Rødsmoen saw made her think of one of those
red cards in the game of Monopoly she had in her holiday cabin: Your houses and hotels have all
burned down.
‘None of you understands anything,’ answered the low, masculine voice. ‘It’s not me.’
At two o’clock Harry pulled in to the kerb beneath Rakel’s timber house in Holmenkollveien. It had