The Cabin

by Jorn Lier Horst

  Stiller nodded. His bluff that Oscar Tvedt was in a position to give a statement would be exposed, but by then it would be too late.

  Thule summarized the facts before the interview was formally ended. Wisting stopped the recording but could still hear what was said on the other side of the mirror window.

  ‘I believe my client has some additional information,’ the lawyer said.

  He nodded in the direction of the dimmed recording light to give a clear understanding that this information should not be recorded. In other words, that Jan Gudim was about to squeal.

  Wisting leaned forward, closer to the monitor.

  ‘Of course, it goes without saying that we’d expect the prosecuting authorities to look favourably on the admissions he has made as far as sentencing is concerned. That the circumstances involving any potential criminal consequence are given credence.’

  ‘Such as what?’

  ‘That he didn’t have prior knowledge of the robbery, that he believed it had to do with an insurance scam.’

  ‘We can’t guarantee what the public prosecutor will believe,’ Thule interjected.

  ‘You’ll get the names of everyone involved,’ the defence lawyer added.

  ‘We already have the names,’ Thule replied. ‘What your client comes out with is worthless if he’s not willing to give the same information in a court of law.’

  ‘You’ll get the answer book,’ the lawyer said with a strained smile. ‘It’s always easier to solve a puzzle when you know all the answers.’

  Wisting crossed to the mirror window and knocked on the glass. All four men on the other side swivelled towards him.

  ‘We’ll be back,’ Stiller said, beckoning to a prison guard, who let them out.

  ‘I need my phone,’ Wisting said when the guard brought his colleagues in to join him.

  ‘No phones are allowed in this section,’ the guard told him.

  ‘I need to phone the Director General,’ Wisting said.

  The guard gave him a long, hard look before nodding his head.

  ‘What’s on your mind?’ Thule asked.

  ‘I think we can come to an arrangement here,’ Wisting answered. ‘The airport robbery is no longer the most important aspect. The most important thing is to find out what happened to Simon Meier.’

  His two colleagues agreed. Wisting’s phone was brought into the room. He had two missed calls, both from Line.

  ‘Calls from Line,’ he told the others, holding the phone display up to them.

  His anxiety increased with each ring that sounded. When she finally answered, her voice sounded breathless.

  ‘Is everything OK?’ Wisting asked.

  ‘Yes, I’m just busy with Amalie.’

  ‘You called?’

  ‘I’ve found Daniel,’ his daughter replied. ‘The one whose phone number was on the note discovered in the box of cash.’

  ‘Wait,’ Wisting told her. ‘I’m switching you to loudspeaker.’

  He placed the phone on the table.

  ‘Daniel Lindberg,’ Line said.

  The three men exchanged looks.

  ‘Doesn’t mean anything to me,’ Thule said.

  ‘He’s Henriette Koppang’s partner. They have a daughter together.’

  Wisting fell silent. ‘Exactly how much have you told her?’ he asked.

  ‘I haven’t said anything to damage the investigation,’ Line explained. ‘The problem is that she was sitting beside me when I logged into my laptop. She may have seen my password. Everything on that computer could be open to them.’

  ‘That’s not a catastrophe,’ Stiller broke in. ‘They don’t know that we have made the connection. We can use that to our advantage.’

  ‘Don’t answer your phone if she rings,’ Wisting said. ‘We’ll be back in a few hours and we’ll talk then.’

  Line seemed reassured. They said their goodbyes and Wisting found the Director General’s number.

  ‘I’m at Halden prison,’ he said. ‘We’ve just finished an interview with Jan Gudim, who is serving a lengthy sentence for a narcotics crime. He’s told us about the part he played in the airport robbery.’

  ‘What does that involve?’

  ‘He was responsible for the diversionary tactic, the car fire, but says at that time he had no idea it was part of a planned robbery. Afterwards, he met the robbers in a prearranged place and drove them to the city centre.’

  ‘And the money?’ the Director General asked.

  ‘He had a key to the pump house, but not for this purpose. He was not present when the money was stashed in there.’

  ‘You mentioned the part he played – does that mean he hasn’t implicated anyone else in his statement?’

  Walking over to the one-way mirror, Wisting gazed at Gudim and his lawyer sitting in silence in the adjacent room.

  ‘No, but he’s willing to give an additional statement off the record,’ he explained. ‘I think it may well be the lever we need to open up the whole investigation.’

  ‘What does he want in return?’

  ‘A reduced sentence and an indictment in line with what he has confessed – complicity and accessory after the fact.’

  ‘We can’t guarantee that,’ the Director General pointed out.

  ‘It has to be one of the conditions of the agreement,’ Wisting replied.

  ‘If that’s what you need and what you recommend, then let’s go for it,’ the Director General said. ‘Who’s his defence counsel?’

  ‘Einar Harnes.’

  ‘Good. Let me speak to him.’

  Wisting handed his phone to Stiller, who took it with him into the interview room. Wisting had never before experienced the Director General himself going along with such an arrangement. Presumably, neither had Harnes.

  ‘For you,’ Stiller said, handing Harnes the phone.

  Harnes glanced sceptically at the phone before taking it.

  ‘This is Einar Harnes,’ Wisting heard him say.

  His facial expression changed dramatically when the Director General introduced himself. Harnes looked across in amazement at the one-way mirror, as if the person he was speaking to was located in there. His answers came in staccato words of one syllable and were accompanied by brief nods of the head. After only thirty seconds, he handed the phone back. Stiller took it and drew out a chair.

  ‘Let’s talk,’ he said.

  60

  Everyone’s eyes were now fixed on Gudim. Wisting watched it all from the side room. It looked as if the man being interviewed was still unsure whether he should go through with it. The loudspeakers on either side of the monitor crackled whenever he wriggled in his seat. Then he took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly let it spill out through his mouth.

  ‘Daniel Lindberg and Aleksander Kvamme,’ he said. ‘It was Daniel’s scheme. He was the one who planned it all.’

  He paused before continuing. ‘I’m not grassing on them here,’ he went on. ‘I owe them nothing. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’ve already taken on a lot for them. I’ve served two years for something they should have gone down for. Aleksander was acquitted. Daniel wasn’t even charged.’

  He was referring to the narcotics charge for which he still had several more years to serve in prison. His voice was filled with bitterness.

  ‘Go on,’ Stiller told him.

  Jan Gudim swallowed hard. ‘They used a black Grand Voyager,’ he explained. ‘Daniel first stole the keys from a used-car salesman in Hauketo and then he came back a few days later and took the car. He kept it parked in a garage in Jessheim for a few months before the robbery. The plates were stolen from another Voyager in Bjerkebanen.’

  Wisting saw how Audun Thule took notes, even though they already had this information.

  ‘On the day of the robbery they used an old workshop that Daniel had kept under observation. The owner had been dead for a number of years. His wife was in an old folks’ home. I met Daniel and Aleksander there after setting fire to the car in Kløf
ta. They were busy breaking open the cases from the currency consignment. Aleksander was using a blowtorch on them. They didn’t have colour ampoules or anything like that, just locks and seals. They transferred the cash into bin bags and took them in the vehicle to Oslo. They then tossed the empty cases into the robbery vehicle. The clothes they’d worn were put into an oil drum half full of petrol. A week later, Daniel came back and set fire to the whole workshop.’

  Thule nodded in acknowledgement. Gudim’s story matched the details in the report given by the technicians who had examined the site of the fire.

  ‘Daniel and Aleksander got changed and I drove them into Oslo. Aleksander had an arrangement with a guy at Iron Ink Tattoos downtown. He was to come in through the back way, put a sticking plaster on a tattoo he’d had done a couple of days earlier, get a receipt and make himself known to some of the people sitting waiting. Arrange an alibi, in other words. Daniel was to be picked up by a ticket inspection on the subway. He knew a guard and got information about where the inspections were taking place. He made sure to lose his temper and instigate a shouting match, so that he would be noticed. Even though it was more than an hour since the robbery, he reckoned it would work. I drove back and stored the money at Gjersjø. I don’t know any more than that.’

  ‘So you were the one who put the money in the pump house?’ Stiller asked. ‘That’s not what you told us earlier.’

  ‘Accessory after the fact,’ Harnes pointed out. ‘It’s within the bounds of everything already admitted.’

  ‘What kind of vehicle did you use when you drove from the welding workshop?’ Stiller asked. ‘Since you left the car used in the robbery behind, along with the bike and all the other gear?’

  ‘That was a legal car,’ Gudim replied. ‘A Ford Mondeo estate that Aleksander was supposed to fix for his uncle.’

  ‘Colour?’

  ‘Red. Daniel thought it was perfect. Escape cars are usually dark or grey to make sure they don’t stand out. That was what the police were looking for. An ancient red old fogey’s car wouldn’t be noticed.’

  Stiller nodded and jotted something down.

  ‘What about Oscar Tvedt?’ Thule asked. ‘We’ve picked up his DNA.’

  ‘That’s what I told you here the first time,’ Gudim answered. ‘He’d been a communications officer in the army and knew about things like that. We got the radio set from him. He was originally supposed to take part, but he pulled out the day before. He gave the excuse that he was ill, and blamed food poisoning or something. It was too late to postpone Daniel’s plan. It was now or never, so we went ahead without him.’

  ‘But he became the scapegoat when the money disappeared?’ Stiller asked.

  Gudim nodded. ‘Once things had calmed down after that business with Simon Meier, Daniel and I went to the pump house to check on the money. We thought it would be there. Nothing had come out in the media about it being found.’

  The sound of footsteps in the corridor reached inside. Gudim waited until they had passed by before continuing: ‘We realized when the key was not where it should be. Daniel broke open the door, but the money was gone, of course.’

  Wisting nodded. That corresponded with the documents from the Gjersjø case. The pump-house door had been broken open twice, first by Arnt Eikanger in connection with the official search, and later by the robbers. Some of the parents had complained to the local authority because they felt it might be dangerous for the children who played there.

  ‘Could anyone have seen you?’ Stiller asked. ‘Could there have been anyone who saw where you had hidden the key?’

  ‘It’s possible,’ Gudim said. ‘The guy who went missing had been there, at least. I saw his bike. It was attached to the pump-house drainpipe. We did wonder whether he might have run off with the cash, or whether one of the policemen had taken it, but in fact it was Oscar.’

  Wisting ran his hand through his hair. The last time they had spoken to Gudim they had given him the impression that some of the robbery proceeds had been found at Oscar Tvedt’s mother’s house. It dawned on him that this would complicate the statement he was giving now.

  ‘Daniel was already convinced of that at the time,’ Gudim went on. ‘He and Aleksander were the ones who beat him up. I wasn’t involved in that. Afterwards, they were no longer so sure. He denied everything.’

  Gudim sat bolt upright in his chair as if something important had just struck him. ‘Daniel’s girlfriend made some inquiries,’ he continued. ‘She wrote for Goliat and pretended she was preparing an article about the guy who went missing. She was allowed to see all the investigation documents, but she was none the wiser after that. She thought the man who disappeared had maybe gone to Spain with all the money.’

  Stiller left that hanging. ‘Where did the information about the cash consignment come from?’ he asked instead.

  Jan Gudim leaned back in his chair. He seemed unprepared for that question. ‘Daniel talked to a guy who worked up there,’ he answered.

  ‘Who?’ Thule demanded.

  ‘It was Daniel’s plan,’ Gudim replied. ‘He didn’t share details about that sort of thing with anyone else.’

  ‘Kim Werner Pollen,’ Stiller said.

  Wisting could see through the mirror window that the name provoked a reaction.

  ‘You were the one who knew him,’ Stiller added. ‘It’s going to bounce back on you if you don’t tell us everything now.’

  Gudim was clearly worried sick. His lawyer did not look comfortable either. ‘That was long before the robbery, nearly a year before, and in a totally different connection,’ Gudim finally admitted. ‘Daniel asked if I knew anyone who worked at Gardermoen airport. I told him I knew of Kim Werner. I thought it was to do with importing drugs. That he was after someone who worked in the baggage-handling section and could get stuff out without going through Customs. I didn’t think any more of it afterwards, to be honest.’

  The lawyer cleared his throat. ‘This doesn’t change the basis of our agreement,’ he said. ‘The fact is that Gudim had no knowledge of the specific plans for the robbery until after the robbery had been committed.’

  Thule nodded. He was willing to accept this version of events. ‘Where did the guns come from?’ he asked instead.

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ Gudim replied. ‘Probably from Oscar. After all, he’d been in the Special Forces. They called him the Captain. He was the guy who handled weapons, the one you went to if you needed that kind of thing.’

  Stiller had taken notes during the entire conversation. Now he folded his notebook shut. ‘I work in the section dealing with old and unsolved cases,’ he said.

  Gudim nodded.

  ‘The investigation I’ve reopened now is the Gjersjø case,’ Stiller went on.

  ‘I thought it was the robbery you were working on,’ Gudim said.

  ‘That was Thule’s case,’ Stiller answered with a nod to one side. ‘I’m trying to find out what happened to Simon Meier.’

  He waited for a beat before continuing: ‘You have an agreement with the Director General. It would be far more valuable to us, and beneficial to you, if you know something about that case.’

  Gudim shook his head. ‘Nothing more than what I said about Daniel’s girlfriend looking for him in Spain,’ he replied. ‘Apart from that, there was some talk of him being buried in a gravel pit.’

  ‘Where did you get that from?’

  ‘From Daniel, or maybe it was something his girlfriend had picked up from the police reports. There was a clairvoyant woman who had seen him in gravel. But they also had another theory. It seems highly likely now.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘That Oscar had taken care of him, you know? That he had seen Oscar with the money and Oscar was then forced to get rid of him. It seems obvious now that you’ve found the money. Anyway, I don’t think he drowned, since he’s never been found. It’s a bit too much of a coincidence for it to have happened at the same time that the money was stolen. Maybe Oscar burie
d him somewhere in the gravel, just like that clairvoyant woman said.’

  Wisting used the control stick on the video camera in the interview room to zoom in on Gudim so that his face filled the monitor screen. He agreed. Simon Meier could have seen something he shouldn’t have and been killed in order to keep quiet. But it was not Oscar Tvedt who had taken him or the money. The money had ended up with Bernhard Clausen.

  61

  The printer in the corner of the basement was working steadily. Line studied a sheet of paper on its way out on which the picture of Daniel Lindberg was slowly taking shape. He was dark-haired and good-looking, with a suntanned face and white teeth. Line recognized some of the features from his daughter. The chin, the transparent freckles on the nose and the dark, close-set eyes.

  Audun Thule took the printout and hung the picture on the wall beside Aleksander Kvamme.

  ‘We have very little intelligence on him,’ Thule said. ‘The photo in our records was taken when he was called in for disorderly conduct at an outdoor café three years ago. He works at a fitness centre he runs with his brother. That’s probably where he and Aleksander Kvamme crossed paths.’

  Stiller turned to face Line. ‘They’re trying to find out what happened to the money and thought you knew something,’ he said. ‘From what they’ve discovered on your laptop and the noticeboard beside your office desk, they believe that Lennart Clausen took the cash.’

  ‘That’s a rational theory,’ Thule agreed. ‘Lennart is from the neighbouring area. The fact that he died not long after gives them reason to believe that the cash is still intact.’

  ‘It could be that’s exactly what has happened,’ Mortensen broke in.

  ‘They’re following your tracks, Line,’ Stiller went on. ‘According to your summary, Tommy Pleym and Aksel Skavhaug were Lennart Clausen’s closest associates at that time. If anyone knew where he had hidden the money, it would have to be one of them.’