Sohlberg and the Gift (42 page)

“What about Kasper Berge? . . . I don’t know what’s going to happen to him. I understand that Chief Inspector Thorsen and Chief Inspector Kristina Skrautvol . . . sorry . . . there I go again . . . I mean Inspector Kristina Skrautvol . . . are both investigating Berge’s role in the Janne Eide murder . . . and the unjust situation with Jakob Gansum . . . and the looting of the Eide trusts and foundations.

“Will this destroy Kasper Berge’s political career? . . .

“I don’t know.

“Will it ruin his chances of one day becoming Prime Minister?

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask him or someone who knows about those things.

“Jakob Gansum?

“He’s expected to recover. I also believe that as soon as he leaves the hospital he will be released immediately from the Dove Center and exonerated.”

Sohlberg was about to say more when he saw Astrid Isaksen. She had been hearing him in the crowd with her aunt. She ran up to Sohlberg and hugged him and said:

“Thank you. . . . You gave me the best Christmas gift ever . . . my Daddy!”

Chapter 17/Sytten

THE KNOWN AND THE UNKNOWN

“Honey . . . you have a package!”

The packages started arriving every week in the mail at Sohlberg’s home just two days after the hospital released Jakob Gansum to freedom and his daughter. He looked up the return address which later turned out to be an empty lot in Stavanger.

Well . . . what have we here.

With a quick look-over Sohlberg could tell that the sheaves of papers were copies of ledgers and bank statements of foreign entities that the Norwegian police and prosecutors would never be able to obtain but for the secret and anonymous source. Even more interesting was the fact that the initials
KB
appeared here and there throughout the documents next to certain transactions.

KB . . . Kasper Berge . . . well . . . well . . . someone doesn’t like the former prosecutor.

After a few minutes Sohlberg realized that the documents recorded the flow of money from Eide trusts and foundations to Kasper Berge or entities controlled by Kasper Berge. These entities included for-profit companies and political groups.

During the next six months Emma Sohlberg was frequently heard to say:

“Honey . . . you have another of your packages!”

The final package arrived around the time that Kristina Skrautvol became a Chief Inspector. Sohlberg had of course turned over all of the packages and their contents to the crime laboratory for fingerprinting and DNA testing and a ton of other tests. The lab found not one single fingerprint or drop of DNA—the invisible mark of a true expert.

A disgraced Kasper Berge resigned from all of his political party positions one day before his trial began on multiple counts of fraud and theft for stealing $ 90 million dollars from the Eide trusts and foundations. The same judge that convicted Liv Holm and Ludvik Helland for looting the Eide fortune also convicted Berge on all fraud and theft counts. Before passing sentence the judge said:

“I wish that I could sentence you to more time in prison Herr Berge. Your betrayal of everyone’s trust is inexcusable . . . your thievery is but a symptom of an unbalanced lust for power.”

Berge received a sentence of 20 years. In exchange for sharply reduced sentences Holm and Helland testified at a separate criminal trial that Kasper Berge had conspired with them to murder Janne Eide and substitute Jakob Gansum for Ludvik Helland. Inexplicably the court found Berge not guilty in that second trial. Sohlberg was disgusted but not surprised. The vast majority of judges are biased in favor of prosecutors—no matter how corrupt or disgraced the prosecutor.

Liv Holm and Ludvik Helland left prison after serving less than three years. A day after the criminal duo’s release Sohlberg received a telephone call. He did not recognized the phone number. But he soon perceived the voice of Liv Holm. He could literally see her sneer with the curled red slash of her cruel thin lips.

“Idiot. What do you think you really accomplished? . . . Tell me Idiot. . . . Now Ludvik and me . . . we’re going back to England . . . and then on to St. Bart’s to enjoy our twenty-nine million pounds . . . yes that much Idiot.

“Did you hear me? . . . The British court upheld my right to get some of the executor fees
and
trustee fees
and
foundation director fees based on the other great investments I made for the estate and the trusts and the foundations . . . that’s more money than you’ll ever make in your miserable rat life and sordid career trying to destroy people like me.”

Silence.

“Are you there Idiot? . . . What have you got to say?”

“Money never sleeps. So keep one eye open when you’re in bed . . . because the next time around Ludvik Helland might leave
your
head in the microwave.”

Sohlberg hanged up as soon as he heard her obscenity-rich ranting and cursing.

~ ~ ~

Håkon Krogvig remained at large. He was last seen on the day of his escape from Dove Center. A grainy video captured his image when he boarded a ferry to Copenhagen with a young teenage boy in tow. The fiend’s escape brought horrific nightmares that plagued Sohlberg.

Practically every morning the Solhlbergs had the same conversation at breakfast:

“How did you sleep?”

“Not good.”

“More nightmares?”

“Yes . . . they’re always about the monster. He’s out there . . . bringing hell on earth.”

“What about the honor killing of that Pakistani girl . . . Benazir?”

“Benazir Mahar . . . so sad. The only likely suspect . . . her brother . . . Naveed Mahar . . . is in Pakistan. I understand he has a distant uncle who works for the I.S.I.”

“What’s that?”

“Inter-Services Intelligence. The I.S.I. is a more corrupt version of the American C.I.A. mixed with a more incompetent version of our own P.S.T.”

“In other words . . . the kid won’t ever get arrested in Pakistan . . . or face justice here in Norway?”

“Bingo. He’ll get the same protection that the I.S.I. gives to opium growers and drug traffickers.”

“Nice. Real nice.”

Sohlberg never told his wife about his other disturbing nocturnal visitations. Although the Vigeland Park murder case got colder and older Tom Velta still visited Sohlberg from time to time in odd and bewildering dreams that Sohlberg could not interpret.

~ ~ ~

The Mistake
. That was the Zoo’s new nickname for Ivar Thorsen.

After television stations aired Sohlberg’s public rescue of Ivar Thorsen several homicide detectives dropped by to let Sohlberg know—in no uncertain terms—that he was a sentimental fool and an absolute idiot for protecting Thorsen. Sohlberg himself soon regretted his decision to save Ivar Thorsen’s career.

Like poison ivy that spreads and grows unchecked in the wild Ivar Thorsen grew even more arrogant and bossy and obnoxious as time went by.

A few days after Berge’s conviction in the first trial Sohlberg spotted Thorsen in the Zoo’s ground floor. He approached Thorsen in the lobby by the elevator banks. It was time to prune Thorsen down to a more tolerable size.

“Thorsen . . . I’ve been looking around but . . . guess what? . . . I can’t find the digital fingerprint card for Jakob Gansum . . . the card that was made here at the Zoo after you arrested and booked him for Janne Eide’s murder . . . but it was never archived in our database.”

“I . . . I don’t know anything about that.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“If that card had been here I could’ve sent it to Interpol and had it checked against databases in other countries. The card would’ve made my investigation easier . . . and brought out the truth much faster.”

“How so?”

“As you very well know . . . the passport offices of many countries now link the person in the passport to existing fingerprint databases.”

Thorsen giggled and twittered:

“Sorry. But I’m not quite as enamored of passport trivia as you are.”

“You should be.”

“Your point Sohlberg. Get to your point. I’m a busy man. The top floor has me working on a special project.”

“The
point
is that at a much earlier phase of my investigation I could and would have found the real Jakob Gansum . . . and his fingerprints in Dutch passport records and fingerprint databases . . . if you had not deleted the digital fingerprint card.”

“Watch your mouth Solly boy. I never touched the card.”

“Thorsen . . . you’re not even a competent liar. I know for a fact that you deleted the digital fingerprint card before it got archived into our database.”

More giggles and twittering.

Thorsen’s absurd noises ceased when Sohlberg said:

“Listen Thorsen. I found your name and signature listed on a sign-out sheet for fingerprint cards before they’re archived and permanently stored in our computers. You forgot about that little detail . . . that little piece of trivia.”

“I . . . I . . . I deleted the card because Ellingsen and Myklebust told me to get rid of it.”

“Did you make and keep a copy for yourself?”

“No. I deleted it from the system.”

“That means . . . let’s see . . . that
you
could be charged with destroying official government records . . . right?”

“I—”

“Do me a favor Thorsen. . . . Actually . . . do me three favors.”

“Oh yes. Whatever you want.”

“Pretend that you’re grateful for my saving your career at the Zoo.”

“But of course I’m grateful.”

“Don’t lie. Remember . . . you’re a bad liar.”

“Sorry. I’ll . . . pretend.”

“Good. Next. Pretend you’re humble. Pretend you’re
not
the next Oslo Police Commissioner. Everyone hates you more nowadays with your arrogant bossiness. No one has died and made you Zoo boss. Okay?”

“Of course. Yes. I see what you mean.”

“I doubt your fake humility will last even if you do see what I mean.”

“It will. I promise.” A pale and sweaty Thorsen turned to leave. He looked back at Sohlberg. “What’s the third favor?”

“Get out of my sight. I don’t want to see you at all. If you ever see me then you must turn immediately and go the opposite way. Alright?”

“Yes. I will.”

Sohlberg doubted it. But at least he had one more club to hold over Thorsen’s head which was predestined to get bigger and bigger in the bright future that is always assured for Yes-Men and Empty Suits.