The Hunting Dogs by Jørn Lier Horst

Author:Jørn Lier Horst [Horst, Jørn Lier]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime Fiction
Publisher: Sandstone Press Ltd
Published: 2014-05-14T14:00:00+00:00

39

The plaster cast was perfect, and Finn Haber smiled for the first time that day. He brushed the white print clean, revealing an identical copy of the bootprint on the path. ‘It looks little used,’ he said. ‘No signs of wear. A clean, intact sole. It might be difficult to link it to a particular boot.’

Wisting still did not know how to use the cast, but hoped to connect someone to the break-in.

‘The earth here is saline,’ Haber said, turning to face the sea. ‘If you find the man who’s been here, you should take samples from his boots. A comparative analysis would be supporting evidence.’

Wrapping the plaster cast in a rag, Wisting placed it in the boot. Haber brought the spray can of hair lacquer and the bag containing the rest of the plaster, and they both sat in the car. ‘Is he on your list?’ Haber asked when they were halfway back to the pilot station.

‘Who?’

‘Frank Robekk.’

‘He’s on the list of people I want to talk to, yes.’

No more was said until Wisting stopped his car in front of the garage at the end of the track. ‘Thanks for your help,’ he said.

Haber opened the car door, but remained seated. ‘I’ve something for you.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Something that might be of interest. You should really come in.’

Wisting followed him down to the main building, where Haber set his boots on the cellar trapdoor as before. Wisting kept his on. They entered the workroom where Haber had stored the plaster.

‘Over there,’ Haber said, pointing to a tall cupboard at the far end of the room.

Wisting advanced a few steps. Behind him, Haber replaced the equipment he had used for the plaster cast. ‘I saw you had copies of all the other material in the Cecilia case out at your cottage.’

He opened the cupboard. The contents looked no different from what sat on the shelves all around. Ring binders, books and journal folders, a number of shallow, but broad, cardboard boxes located on the two top shelves. Haber lifted one down and carried it across to the desk. ‘I don’t have any use for it,’ he said.

‘What is it?’

‘Surplus photographs from the Cecilia case.’

He opened the box and Wisting peered inside. Several hundred photos had been placed edge-to-edge, in three rows, separated by dividers marked with date and location.

‘They should have been shredded when I left,’ Haber said ‘but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It’s as if my whole life is in these boxes. Everything I’ve been involved in is documented. I even considered writing a book and using the photos as illustrations, but nothing came of it.’

Wisting let his fingers run across the rows of pictures, drawing out a random selection from the section marked Clinical Examination 30/7, pictures of Rudolf Haglund in an examination room at the hospital to record wounds possibly inflicted by Cecilia Linde. Scratches, bites or suchlike. The examination had been fruitless. Perhaps that was why Wisting had not seen the pictures before, but only read the doctor’s report.

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