The Snowman ( PDFDrive )

Harry cursed inside. Why hadn’t he said he got it from directory enquiries? There was nothing
suspicious about that.
‘Did she?’ Mathias asked.
‘Yes.’
‘OK,’ Mathias said. ‘Come right in. The door’s unlocked.’
Harry rang off and stared at the telephone. He could find no rational explanation for his foreboding
that time was short and that he had to run for his life before darkness fell. So he resolved that he
was imagining things. That it didn’t help, this type of fear, the terror that comes with the onset of
night, when you can’t see your grandmother’s farm.
He punched in another number.
‘Yes,’ Hagen answered. The voice was toneless, lifeless. The resignation-writing voice, Harry
presumed.
‘Drop the paperwork,’ Harry said. ‘You’ve got to ring the Chief Constable. I need a firearms
authorisation. Arrest of suspected murderer in Åsengata 12, Torshov.’
‘Harry –’
‘Listen. The remains of Sylvia Ottersen are in a tank at the Anatomy Department. Katrine is not the
Snowman. Do you understand?’
Silence.
‘No,’ Hagen confessed.
‘The Snowman is a lecturer at the department. Mathias Lund-Helgesen.’
‘Lund-Helgesen? Well, I’ll be damned. Do you mean the—?’
‘Yes, the doctor who was so helpful in focussing our attention on Idar Vetlesen.’
Life had returned to Hagen’s voice. ‘The Chief is going to ask if it’s likely that the man’s armed.’
‘Well,’ Harry said, ‘as far as we know, he hasn’t used a firearm on any of the people he’s killed.’
A couple of seconds passed before Hagen caught the sarcasm. ‘I’ll phone him now,’ he said.
Harry rang off and turned the key in the ignition while calling Magnus Skarre with his other hand.
Skarre and the engine responded in unison.
‘Still in Tryvann?’ Harry shouted above the roar.
‘Yes.’
‘Drop everything and get yourself in a car. Meet me at the Åsengata/Vogts gate crossroads. It’s a
bust.’