Blind Goddess by Anne Holt

Author:Anne Holt [Holt, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2012-06-05T05:00:00+00:00

TUESDAY 10 NOVEMBER

Talk about a waste of effort.”

Hanne Wilhelmsen had sensibly put two thick elastic bands round the documents on the case. They looked like a rather attractive Christmas present. A package that would stand up to anything, even being thrown. She put it to the test. Thud.

“Now we’ve been through both Olsen and Lavik. Zilch.”

“Nothing? Nothing at all?”

Håkon Sand was quite astonished. It was more extraordinary that there was nothing of interest than if they’d found the odd little nugget. Few people would withstand the critical scrutiny of the police without something crawling out of the woodwork.

“But there is one thing that puzzles me,” said Hanne. “We haven’t got access to Lavik’s bank account, since we haven’t charged him. But look at his tax returns for the last few years.”

She put a sheet of meaningless figures in front of Håkon. They told him nothing—except that the guy had an annual income that would turn every employee of the prosecution service green with envy.

“It seems as if the money just disappears,” said Hanne in explanation.

“Disappears?”

“Yes, there’s simply no correlation between the amount he declares and his wealth. Either his normal living expenditure is prodigious, or he’s salted the money away somewhere.”

“But why should he salt away money honestly acquired?”

“There’s only one good reason for it: avoidance of wealth tax. But with the level of wealth tax we have in this country it seems both silly and unlikely. It doesn’t make sense to me that he would risk tax irregularities for the sake of a few miserable kroner. His accounts are in order and approved by an auditor every single year. But there’s something here I don’t understand.”

They sat and looked at one another. Håkon put a wad of chewing tobacco in his mouth.

“Have you started that filthy habit?” said Hanne in disgust.

“Just to stop myself succumbing to cigarettes again. Purely a temporary measure,” he said in excuse, spitting out the old tobacco into the room.

“It’ll spoil your teeth. Anyway, it smells foul.”

“There’s no one to smell me,” he retorted. “Let’s bounce a few ideas around. What would make you hide money away?”

“I would do it with money earned from the black economy or illegally. Switzerland, probably. As in crime stories. We’re powerless with Swiss banks. The accounts don’t even have to be registered in a name, a number will do.”

“Have we noted any trips to Switzerland?”

“No, but he doesn’t need to go there. Swiss banks have branches in masses of the countries he’s visited. And I can’t get away from the idea that there may be something in his connections with the Far East. Drugs. That would fit in with our theory. It’s a pity he’s got a valid reason for his trips there—his hotels.”

There was knock at the door, and a fair-haired constable opened it without waiting for a response. This annoyed Håkon, but he didn’t comment.

“Here are the papers you asked for,” he said to the inspector, and handed her five sheets of computer printout, leaving again without closing the door.

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