Blix ended up in a traffic jam near Røa, and even using the blue light it was a slow business weaving his way through.
Hansteen was not answering his phone, but a secretary answered at his office. She informed him that the pastor had a private meeting at his home at quarter to three. There was a name in the appointments book: Dahlmann.
Blix glanced at the dashboard. It was already 15.04.
Swearing with frustration, he pummelled the steering wheel.
Killing someone took time, though. It took time to make an escape too. Blix kept his eyes peeled as he drove up past the grand houses and gardens in one of Oslo’s most fashionable residential areas. He passed a woman with a pram as well as a jogger. A man in a tight-fitting suit carrying a briefcase with a placard from an estate agency chain tucked under his arm, turned and gazed after him.
His phone rang. It was Kovic.
‘Haven’t you been removed from the case?’ she said.
‘That’s not important right now. Where are you all?’
‘Just beside Ullevål stadium. What about you?’
‘I’m almost there. Are there any patrol cars ahead of me?’
‘Yes, there should be.’188
Then there may still be hope, Blix thought, as he disconnected the call. Several hundred metres further along, he spotted the rear of a police patrol car. Swinging his car up on to the pavement, he jumped out. Found Hansteen’s number in his phone log and tried again.
Outside the entrance to the pastor’s huge house, he met a uniformed officer.
‘Should we go in?’ he asked.
Blix strode past him without responding. Pushed at the door and found it open. He heard a phone ringing inside and rushed towards the sound. It was on the kitchen worktop. But there was no Hansteen.
Blix dismissed the call and shouted Hansteen’s name. No answer. He walked into the living room and called out again, but still no sign of life.
‘Blix,’ said the officer who’d followed him inside. He stood at the living-room window, pointing outside.
At the foot of the garden, they saw Pastor Hansteen hanging from a tree.
‘Fuck,’ Blix swore, and they rushed outside.
With the aid of the young officer, he managed to bring Hansteen down from the tree. They laid him out and began to try to resuscitate him, but they soon realised that it was futile. He’d been dead for several minutes.
Kovic, Wibe and Abelvik arrived just as they stopped.
‘It takes a strong man to lift such a heavy body up into a tree,’ Wibe commented. ‘How much did he weigh – a hundred and twenty kilos?’
‘Something like that,’ Blix said, as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. ‘He’s still warm. Dahlmann can’t have got far. We need to spread out. Call in as many officers as we can. He could be anywhere at all. In a neighbour’s house, a kennel…’
‘Nordmarka forest is right on the doorstep,’ Abelvik said. ‘There are footpaths leading to Sognsvann lake.’
‘We have to get someone out there, have them move towards us 189from that side,’ Blix said. ‘Look out for someone who appears strong. And look for someone who…’
Blix stopped himself. His journey to Ris was running through his head.
‘Fuck,’ he said to himself. There had been something about that man in a suit he’d encountered along the road. Something he’d subconsciously latched on to. There had been something about his bearing or the way he walked. He could easily have been Dahlmann.
‘What is it?’ Kovic queried.
‘I spotted a guy as I drove here. An estate agent. There was something familiar about him. The timing fits really well. He was walking on his own. Looked pretty stocky and strong; his suit was too small for him.’
‘Is Dahlmann strong and stocky?’ Wibe asked.
Blix pondered this for a few seconds. ‘Difficult to say from the recent photos we have, but I don’t really think so.’
‘And he’s not an estate agent either?’
‘No, but he could have been in disguise. He looked as if he was on his way to the subway station. I’ll go there.’
Blix turned towards the street.
‘There’s only one line at that stop,’ he yelled as he set off. ‘Call Ruter’s head office and get them to stop all their trains to and from Ris. And make a start on door-to-door inquiries.’
Behind the steering wheel again, he focused his mind on the man he had spotted. It couldn’t have been Dahlmann, could it? He could have disappeared in any direction, not only via the subway. But whether or not he was right, he didn’t have a single second to lose.