The Snowman ( PDFDrive )

of prestige for the new POB that he would rather sacrifice his extremely hirsute right arm.
Harry sighed. ‘Normal investigation teams fight to stay afloat in the stream of information. And
that’s when it’s a standard case. With decapitations on the front pages ’ Harry shook his head.
‘People have gone mad. We received more than a hundred calls just after the news item last night.
You know, drunks slurring and the usual nutters, plus a few new ones. People telling you that the
murder was described in the Book of Revelation, that sort of thing. So far today we’ve had two
hundred calls. And just wait until it emerges that there may be several bodies. Let’s say we have to
set aside twenty people to take care of the calls. They check them out and write reports. Let’s say
that the team leader has to spend two hours every day physically going through the incoming data,
two hours coordinating it and two hours assembling everyone in groups, updating them, answering
their questions, and half an hour editing the information that can be revealed at the press
conference. Which takes three-quarters of an hour. The worst part is ’ Harry put his forefingers
against his aching jaw muscles and grimaced. ‘. that in a standard murder case this is, I suppose, a
good use of resources. Because there will always be those out there who know something, who have
heard or seen something. Information which we can painstakingly piece together or which enables
us to magically solve the whole case.’
‘Exactly,’ Hagen said. ‘That’s why –’
‘The problem is’, Harry continued, ‘that this is not that kind of case. Not that kind of killer. This
person has not confided in a friend or shown his face in the vicinity of the murder. No one out there
knows anything, so the calls that come in won’t help us, they’ll just delay us. And any possible
forensic clues we uncover have been left there to confuse us. In a nutshell, this is a different kind of
game.’
Hagen had leaned back in his chair, pressed his fingertips together, and, immersed in thought, he
was now observing Harry. He blinked like a basking lizard, then asked: ‘So you see this as a game?’
As he nodded, Harry wondered where Hagen was going.
‘What sort of game? Chess?’
‘Well,’ Harry said, ‘blindfold chess maybe.’
Hagen nodded. ‘So you envisage a classic serial killer, a cold-blooded murderer with superior
intelligence and a proclivity for fun, games and challenges?’
Now Harry had an idea where Hagen was going.
‘A man straight from the serial killings you profiled on that FBI course? The kind you met in
Australia that time? A person who ’ the POB smacked his lips as if he were tasting the words, ‘.
is basically a worthy opponent for someone of your background.’
Harry sighed. ‘That’s not how I think, boss.’
‘Don’t you? Remember I’ve taught at the military academy, Harry. What do you think aspiring
generals dream about when I tell them how military strategists have personally changed the course
of world history? Do you think they dream about sitting around quietly hoping for peace, about
telling their grandchildren that they just lived, that no one would ever know what they might have
been capable of? They might say they want peace, but inside they dream, Harry. About having one
opportunity. There’s a strong social urge in man to be needed, Harry. That’s why generals in the