Read Online Cockroaches: The Second Inspector Harry Hole Novel by Jo Nesbø - Free Book Online Page B

can tell you. At this very moment I have eight Norwegians in hospital and six in prison, four of them for possession of narcotics. Have you seen the prisons here? Dreadful.
Verdens Gang
rings every day. It turns out that on top of everything else one of them is pregnant. And last month in Pattaya, a Norwegian man died after being thrown out of a window. Second time in a year. Terrible fuss.”
    She shook her head in despair.
    “And if someone loses their passport do you think they have travel insurance or money for a new ticket home? No, we have to take care of everything. So, as you know, it’s important we get things moving here.”
    “It’s my understanding that you’re in charge now that the ambassador is dead.”
    “I am the chargé d’affaires, yes.”
    “How long will it be before a new ambassador is appointed?”
    “Not long, I hope. Usually it takes a month or two.”
    “They’re not concerned that you’re left shouldering all the responsibility?”
    Tonje Wiig gave a wry smile. “That wasn’t what I meant. In fact I worked here as the chargé d’affaires for six months before they sent Molnes. I’m just saying I hope there will be a permanent arrangement as soon as possible.”
    “So you’re counting on becoming the new ambassador.”
    “Well.” She smiled mirthlessly. “That wouldn’t be unnatural.But you never know with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, I’m afraid.”
    A shadow stole in and a cup appeared in front of Harry.
    “Do you drink
chaa ráwn
?” Tonje Wiig asked.
    “I don’t know.”
    “Oh, my apologies,” she laughed. “I forget so quickly that others are new here. Black Thai tea. I have afternoon tea here, you see. Even though, strictly speaking, it should be after two o’clock according to English tradition.”
    Harry said yes, and the next time he looked down someone had filled his cup.
    “I thought that kind of tradition died with the colonialists.”
    “Thailand has never been a colony,” she smiled. “Neither of England nor of France, as its neighbors were. The Thais are very proud of that. A bit too proud, if you ask me. A bit of English influence never hurt anyone.”
    Harry picked up a notepad and asked if the ambassador might conceivably have been embroiled in anything dubious.
    “Dubious, Hole?”
    He explained in concise terms what he meant by “dubious,” that in seventy percent of murders the victim was involved in something illegal.
    “Illegal? Molnes?” She shook her head energetically. “He isn’t … wasn’t the type.”
    “Do you know if he could have had any enemies?”
    “Can’t imagine he would. He was very well liked. Why do you ask? Surely this can’t be an assassination?”
    “We know very little at the moment, so we’re keeping all lines of inquiry open.”
    Tonje Wiig explained that Molnes had gone straight to a meeting after lunch on the Tuesday he died. He hadn’t said where, but this was not unusual.
    “He always had his mobile phone with him, so we could get in touch if something came up.”
    Harry asked to see his office. Tonje Wiig had to unlock two further doors, installed “for security reasons.” The room was untouched, as Harry had requested before he left Oslo, and it was a mess of papers, files and souvenirs which hadn’t been put on shelves or hung on walls yet.
    The Norwegian royal couple peered down majestically at them over the piles of paper and out of the window overlooking a green space that Wiig told him was Queen Sirikit Park.
    Harry found a calendar, but there weren’t many notes on it. He checked the day of the murder. Man U, it said—Manchester United, unless he was much mistaken. Perhaps a football match he wanted to see, Harry thought, dutifully going through some drawers, but he soon realized one man searching the ambassador’s office without knowing what he was looking for was a hopeless task.
    “I can’t see his mobile phone,” Harry said.
    “As I mentioned—he always carried it with