The Snowman ( PDFDrive )

‘Dreadful,’ whispered Onny Hetland. ‘Bastian didn’t say anything about that.’
‘That’s because we didn’t want to publicise it,’ Rafto said. ‘Bastian told me you were Laila’s best
friend.’
Onny nodded.
‘Do you know what Laila was doing up on Ulriken? Her husband had no idea, you see. He and the
children were with his mother in Florø yesterday.’
Onny shook her head. It was a firm shake. One that should not have left any doubt. It wasn’t the
shake that was the problem. It was the hundredth of a second’s hesitation before it started. And this
hundredth of a second was all Gert Rafto needed.
‘This is a murder case, frøken Hetland. I hope you appreciate the gravity and the risk you run by not
telling me everything you know.’
She shot the policeman with the bulldog face a perplexed look. He smelt prey.
‘If you think you’re being considerate to her family, you have misunderstood. These things will
come out whatever.’
She swallowed. She looked frightened, had already looked frightened when she opened the door. So
he gave her the final nudge, this actually quite trifling threat that still worked so amazingly well on
the innocent as well as the guilty.
‘You can tell me now or come to the station for questioning.’
Tears welled up in her eyes, and the barely audible voice came from somewhere at the back of her
throat. ‘She was meeting someone there.’
‘Who?’
Onny Hetland inhaled with a tremble. ‘Laila told me only the first name and profession. And that it
was a secret; no one was to know. Especially not Bastian.’
Rafto looked down into his notebook to hide his excitement. ‘And the first name and profession
were?’
He noted down what Onny said. Peered at his pad. It was a relatively common name. And a
relatively common profession. But since Bergen was a relatively small town, he thought this would
be enough. He knew with the whole of his being that he was on the right track. And by ‘the whole
of his being’ Gert Rafto meant thirty years of police work and a knowledge of humanity based on
general misanthropy.
‘Promise me one thing,’ Rafto said. ‘Don’t tell what you have just told me to a soul. Not to anyone
in the family. Not to the press. Not even to any other police officers you might talk to. Have you
understood?’
‘Not to police officers?’
‘Definitely not. I’m leading the investigation, and I must have full control over this information.