Does she have a gun?
He immediately grabbed her right wrist and snapped on the handcuffs. He said:
“No more funny business Liv Holm. You are under arrest.”
“Hey! You’re hurting me. I only wanted to put on some lipstick to look decent.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll look fine in your mugshot.”
Chapter 15/Femten
MORNING OF MONDAY, DECEMBER 15,
OR THIRTEEN DAYS AFTER THE DAY
The media firestorm gathered force after an enterprising reporter for Verdens Gang broke the story about the arrest of Liv Holm. The story appeared late Sunday evening in the VG website and within minutes the news article instantly got flashed around Oslo through Twitter and other social networking services on the Internet. The news leak was inevitable. The story broke out as soon as the intake jailers processed Liv Holm. As usual some lower level clerks had called their cash-for-a-scoop contacts at newspaper and television outlets. The clever VG reporter went a step further. He ran Liv Holm’s name on Google and bingo—her name came up as the trustee for the Eide fortune.
At 1 A.M. a television crew parked their van with a monstrous satellite dish antennae outside of the Sohlbergs’ front yard thanks to an overzealous reporter from NRK2—the news channel of the Norwegian Broadcasting Corporation. The reporter shined a powerful flashlight at the Solhbergs’ bedroom window on the second floor and he directed his bullhorn at the window before yelling out:
“Chief Inspector . . . can you come out and comment on the arrest of Liv Holm in the Janne Eide case?”
“Sorry my Love,” said a furious Sohlberg to his wife as he put on a coat over his pyjamas. “But this jerk takes the prize.”
“Calm down! . . . Whatever you do please don’t hit him or say anything you’re going to regret later on.”
Fru Sohlberg’s warning weighed on Sohlberg as he flew in a rage down the stairs. He was about to open the front door and push the reporter into the snow when an inspired thought came to his mind. Sohlberg almost laughed at how easily he would get rid of the reporter. Better yet he would induce a massive headache for someone who richly deserved to be harassed by a wild pack of reporters ravenous to feed on anything and anyone for the ever-hungry never-ending news cycle.
“Hei,” said Sohlberg as he blinked at the camera’s lights. “I can’t comment on any arrest or case. But . . . I suggest you contact Inspector Ivar Thorsen at his home . . . he was in charge of the Janne Eide case and as far as I know he is still in charge of it. . . . Now . . . if you don’t mind . . . good night!”
A cranky and sleep-deprived Sohlberg woke up four hours later at 6 A.M. He had been kept awake until 4 A.M. by reporters who called him on the landline for his home phone and on his personal and police-issued cell phones. He had repeated his Ivar Thorsen suggestion to each of the callers. He had also given them Thorsen’s home address until he finally got fed up and simply turned off all phones.
“Did you get any sleep?” said Sohlberg as he got ready to pop in the shower.
Fru Sohlberg’s weary smile sufficed as an answer.
“I’m sorry about this media circus.”
“It’s part of the job. I’m just grateful I’m a nurse. I don’t see how you can handle all those people.”
“Well . . . they’re not all bad. Most are pretty decent. Remember Hege Egeland? Her reporting in Brussels helped me get the tips that led to the arrest of the killer of those two Somali women in the waterfront.”
“Just be careful.”
The blistering shower put Sohlberg in a better mood. He dressed and turned on all of the phones and hurried downstairs to make breakfast for his wife. While he waited for Fru Sohlberg he opened his laptop and began reading Aftenposten and Dagsavisen and Verdens Gang and other newspapers on the Internet. Almost all articles reporting on the arrest of Liv Holm carried this headline or a slight variation:
JANNE EIDE CASE RE-OPENED WITH ARREST OF TRUSTEE OF EIDE FORTUNE.
Regardless of the headlines none of the articles mentioned Jakob Gansum or Ludvik Helland. No article even hinted at the explosive bomb that was about to shatter the Grønland police station and the courts over the fact that an innocent man had been sent to the insane asylum in lieu of the real killer—Ludvik Helland.
Sohlberg’s police-issued cell phone rang. The sound startled him after the silent respite. The London number on the screen sent chills up and down his entire body.
“We got him,” said Superintendent Pinkman. “The Interpol warrant got here less than three minutes ago and just in the nick of time . . . I’m glad we had him under surveillance or he may’ve taken off.”
“How close was he to leaving?”
“Your boy had his travel bags packed up . . . seems he got rattled and was preparing for a quick trip to the Caribbean. He had a boarding pass printed out for a private Gulfstream G 200 flight . . . to Bermuda then Antigua . . . he scheduled the trip on his Netjets timeshare plan.”
“Why was he so ready to fly away? . . . What got him itching for a sudden trip?”
“He called Liv Holm all night long . . . she wouldn’t answer her mobile. Of course she couldn’t answer from jail. When he first saw us he thought we were coming to give him bad news about Liv Holm having a serious accident or a heart attack or stroke. Then the true reality of his difficulty sank in.”
“See if you can get him to talk . . . let him think she’s pointing the finger at him.”
“Of course. Don’t they always?”
Sohlberg returned to reading the news. Ten minutes later his blood pressure jumped sky high when someone pounded on his front door. The doorbell rang incessantly. He shot out to the front door and opened it and started shouting:
“You stupid—”
“What’s the matter with you?” yelled Ivar Thorsen. “Why call me names?”
A shocked and speechless Sohlberg could only motion Thorsen to come inside. His loathsome adversary was the last person Sohlberg expected to see at his doorstep that morning.
Thorsen’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Why did you—”
“Sorry. I thought you were one of those crazy reporters. They’ve been bothering us all night.”
“Same with me. They woke Mama up. She’s furious!”
A reluctant Sohlberg showed Thorsen to the living room. He studied Thorsen closely while they sat on opposite sofa chairs by the fireplace. At first Sohlberg thought that Ivar Thorsen shook from the frigid morning temperatures. It then dawned on Sohlberg that a horrific anxiety had a death-like grip over the haggard Thorsen. Sweat in appalling quantities streamed down Thorsen’s ashen face. The black circles under Thorsen’s panic-stricken eyes accentuated the cadaverous aura that emanated from the wan detective.
For a moment Sohlberg felt sorry for Thorsen. He wondered if he had gone overboard in sending the howling pack of reporters to hunt down Thorsen for details in the Liv Holm arrest. Sohlberg knew that he had to break the news to Thorsen—news that would unravel and ultimately end Ivar Thorsen’s career as a detective:
“Thorsen . . . they arrested the real Ludvik Helland less than an hour ago in London.”
Thorsen gulped and wiped the sweat off his pasty forehead. “Oh really? . . . And who sent off that arrest warrant? . . . You did! . . . I can’t believe you stabbed me in the back Sohlberg. You are in serious trouble.”
“Me? . . . I would think that you should be up at the Zoo begging for your job with the top brass at this very minute.”
“Sohlberg . . . you betrayed me.”
“Are you kidding me? . . . What about you sending an innocent man to the insane asylum for a murder he did not commit? . . . What about you betraying Chief Inspector Nygård and getting him kicked off the Janne Eide case and the force so you could do your dirty deeds?”
“I’ve done nothing wrong. I only did what I was told to do by my superiors.”
“That . . . you idiot . . . is what you did wrong.”
“No Sohlberg. I followed o
rders. I won’t get into trouble. You’ll see. Who’s ever gotten into trouble for following orders? Name one person. Name one country where that’s a crime! . . . You on the other hand disobeyed policies and procedures when you undertook an unauthorized investigation. You’re the one who’s wrong. For whatever crazy reasons you got yourself involved in a closed case . . . a case that everyone at the Zoo on the top floor wanted closed. You however went around my back. You conducted an unauthorized investigation into the Janne Eide murder. And you told no one. You kept it secret. You would know that that is a big no-no if you had ever bothered to read and obey the department’s policies and procedures. Our boss is not going to be happy with your shenanigans. He’ll cut off your you-know-what when he gets back from vacation.”
“Listen you moron and listen good because I’m not going to repeat myself. First. I did not conduct an unauthorized investigation . . . in fact starting four days ago . . . on Wednesday afternoon of last week . . . I sent several e-mails to Lunde . . . our acting department head during Christmas Holidays . . . and I informed him that I was following leads on two old homicide cases. I kept him informed of the Liv Holm case. So it’s a lie for you to say that I kept my investigation a secret.
“Second. I did not reopen a closed case. Instead I investigated a new case . . . that’s why I had Liv Holm and Ludvik Helland arrested for stealing hundreds of millions of euros and dollars and pounds and other currencies from the Olan Eide estate. So I did not intentionally reopen the Janne Eide case . . . the re-opening was collateral damage from my investigating the looting of the Eide trusts and foundations by Liv Holm . . . who in turn led me straight to the real Ludvik Helland.”
“That’s nonsense!”
“Thorsen . . . at the end of the day I’m not the one who’s going to be in serious trouble. No my friend. You’re the one who’s in serious trouble for botching the Janne Eide case and sending an innocent man to the nut house. It’s inevitable that you . . . Ivar Thorsen . . . will be the fall guy since your two old bosses are long gone . . . enjoying their early retirement. You are the only one who’s still in the force . . . your name was plastered back then all over the media for your solving the Janne Eide case. The buck stops with you and the bell tolls for you. You’re finished. Toast.”
Ivar Thorsen screeched: “No! No! I can’t take the fall for this. Everything you’ve said so far only shows that you played dirty with your clever tricks. . . . You betrayed me.”
“Thorsen . . . you’re clueless . . . you betrayed the force and they’re not going to turn a blind eye on you now that all has been revealed. So . . . you better get as fast as you can to the Zoo and save what’s left of your career. Maybe you can write parking tickets in Spitsbergen or some other God-forsaken Arctic island in the Svalbard archipelago.”
Thorsen moaned. He held his head with both hands as if his cranium was about to fall off or explode. Sohlberg knew it was time to interrogate Thorsen and get the truth from him. That opportunity would probably never again present itself.
“Why was Nygård kicked off the Janne Eide case?”
“He was working the case way too slowly. He refused to be rushed.”
“Whose idea was it to kick him off the case?”
“Kasper Berge . . . a prosecutor with the Director General of Public Prosecutions.”
“Didn’t the idea come from Nygård’s boss . . . Magnus Ellingsen . . . or his boss . . . Ingeborg Myklebust?”
“No. Kasper Berge called the shots. Ellingsen and Myklebust just went along. Berge was adamant about getting Ludvik Helland arrested . . . he definitely wanted this Jakob Gansum character arrested and charged with the murder even after Nygård mentioned that we had never found any old or current pictures or fingerprints for Ludvik Helland.”
“That was a huge warning sign . . . wasn’t it?” said Sohlberg with a sneer.
“In hindsight . . . yes. I now realize that Nygård was getting suspicious as to the true identity of the man we thought was Janne Eide’s husband. But you can’t blame anyone for thinking this Jakob Gansum character was Ludvik Helland . . . after all . . . we found Jakob Gansum inside the Eide residence . . . in the master bedroom . . . with her blood all over him. How could he have gotten inside unless he had all of the security codes . . . or if she let him in?”
“Thorsen! . . . You forgot the first and second rule of homicide . . . nothing is obvious . . . assume nothing.”
“That’s fine for you to say that years after the fact. Look Sohlberg . . . all of us at the Zoo were surprised . . . and feeling like we had been played for fools when Berge quickly agreed with the defense lawyers in getting Ludvik Helland labeled criminally insane . . . a lunatic not responsible for his acts. . . . ”
“Thorsen . . . did you ever investigate Jakob Gansum’s claims that he was not Ludvik Helland?”
“No. No one believed him. Besides . . . I would’ve been fired or demoted. Now that I think of it . . . I’m sure that Chief Inspector Nygård would’ve investigated those claims. But Kasper Berge wouldn’t have tolerated such delays. Berge constantly reminded us that it was an open and shut case. He must have charmed the top people at the Zoo into marching along with his plan because we soon started getting the same Berge song repeated to us from upstairs.”
“Who purged the Janne Eide case files at the Zoo?”
“I . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Thorsen! . . . Stop lying . . . you’re making a bad situation worse.”
“How can it get worse?”
“Tell me everything and I might be able to help you . . . guide you . . . on avoiding a ton of criminal charges . . . beginning with perjury and obstruction of justice charges. You know they’re going to blame you. They can’t do anything to Ellingsen in the U.S.A. and Myklebust in Greece. They’re retired. Gone. Non-entities who can’t be punished. But you . . . you will be the whipping boy. So tell me everything.”
Ivar Thorsen slammed his fist into the table. “This is so unfair! . . . It’s not fair.”
“You’re going to be their fall guy. The patsy. Tell me everything and I might find something that you can use to save yourself.”
“Alright! . . . I cleaned up the files because Ellingsen told me to do it after Ludvik Helland or that Jakob Gansum character was sent to the nut house. Ellingsen said, ‘Wipe them clean’ and I did. He told me to shred all of Nygård’s notes. I cleaned up everything. And I mean everything.”
“Why?”
“He was nervous about the contents . . . even what was in the courthouse files. He wanted the expert psychiatrist report taken out. I understood from Ellingsen that Berge insisted that I and no one else clean up all the files. I’m not that stupid. I figured they wanted me to do that so I could eventually be blamed if necessary. That’s when I realized that Berge was playing everyone like puppets. Heck . . . I was scared out of my wits when Berge insisted that I be the only one to purge the files.”
“How do you know Berge insisted? . . . I thought it was Ellingsen who ordered you to delete and destroy documents.”
“Berge was sitting in Ellingsen’s office. Berge turned around and point-blank asked me, ‘Did you get the court files?’”
“What did you say?”
“‘No,’ I said. ‘No one told me to go to the courthouse to scrub the court files.’ That got him real mad. Furious! . . . Enraged! . . . That’s when he ordered me to go that very day to the court and clean up the files.”
Sohlberg asked the same question again but in a different way in the hope of getting a more complete and informative answer from Thorsen:
“Why did they have you sanitize the police and the court files?”
“Ellingsen and Berge told me that they didn’t want Ludvik Helland’s relatives or friends to find him at the insane asylum and then try to set him free with some sharp lawyer.”
“Whose idea was it to put Jakob Gansum in an insane asylum?”
“Honestly? . . . I don’t know. But I wouldn’t
put it past Kasper Berge to have planted that idea with the defense lawyers . . . or to at least have hinted to the defense team that he would not oppose an insanity plea.”
“Why lock up Jakob Gansum in an insane asylum? . . . Wouldn’t a prison have done the job?”
“Ellingsen later told me that Berge wanted the insane asylum option because no one would ever believe the Jakob Gansum claims that he was not Ludvik Helland. Ellingsen said, ‘At a prison you never know what prisoner or lawyer or detective might hear his claims and check them out. At the insane asylum we’ve got better control over who has access to an inmate at the nuthouse than we do in a prison.”
Sohlberg and the Gift Page 26