Read Beyond the Truth: Hanne Wilhelmsen Book Seven (A Hanne Wilhelmsen Novel) for Free Online

Outside, the half light suggested daybreak, even though the hour was already far advanced. The light lacked purchase. A chill blanket of fog pressed heavily on the city and a gray veil of exhaust fumes and miscellaneous pollution enveloped the streets; even the snowflakes dancing behind her image in the glass seemed grimy.
    “Strictly speaking, this unidentified man isn’t the most important focus for the investigation, either,” Billy T. said. “Here’s the file on the family. And these are only newspaper cuttings. In addition, we’re busy gathering all the correspondence and other documentation we can lay our hands on. The lawyers on both sides are putting up a fight, of course. The old story about duty of confidentiality. But we’ll win out in the end. This stuff here is all in the public domain anyway.”
    He tossed a substantial folder on to Håkon Sand’s desk. Håkon, yawning loudly, let it lie.
    “We’re all well aware that this family were engaged in a quarrel,” he said finally, still without touching the red ring binder. “It happens in the best of families. People don’t kill for that reason.”
    The room went completely quiet. Fiddling with her ring, Silje Sørensen gazed self-consciously at the floor. Billy T. smirked as he stared at the ceiling. Hanne Wilhelmsen fixed her eyes on Håkon Sand. Håkon spat a gob of snuff into a trashcan, before straightening up, pulling his chair closer to the desk, and heaving a deep sigh.
    “I’m meeting Puntvold, Head of CID, later today,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair. “This case is so massive … Though the media have given us a hard time previously, I don’t think we’ve seen the likes of this until now, all the same. They’re crawling all over us now. The Head of CID feels we should have a coordinated plan involving both the Public Prosecution Service and Oslo Police District. From the very outset, I mean.”
    “If I’m not entirely mistaken, it’ll be Jens Puntvold himself who’ll take care of that aspect.”
    A sarcastic smile crossed Hanne’s face. Following a career that had started in Bergen Police Station and subsequently progressed via the Ministry of Justice to the National Police Directorate at its inception in January 2001, Deputy Chief of Police and Head of CID Jens Puntvold had taken up post as second in command in Oslo seven months earlier. In his mid-forties, he was brash, blond, and childless. Moreover, he kept house with TV2’s most glamorous weather woman, and was more than willing to turn up for interviews with or without his girlfriend.
    Håkon sighed again, almost theatrically. Hanne was not entirely certain whether it was because of her or Puntvold.
    “He always succeeds in calling attention to the police force,” he said reprovingly. “Always, Hanne. It’s true that he appears rather too often, but the police haven’t been over-supplied with positive profiles in the past, you know. Single-handedly, Puntvold has managed to—”
    “He’s competent, I’ll give you that,” Hanne interrupted. “I just get a bit discouraged about all these campaigns he launches. Many of them are nothing more than pandering to the public.”
    “It’s the public who, at the end of the day, decide how many resources we have at our disposal,” Håkon said. “But enough of that. I just wanted to have a chat with the three of you before I talk to him. Annmari Skar will be the prosecutor responsible for the case in your headquarters, anyway. I’m meeting her afterwards. I’ll probably be working with her more closely than usual, and I’d appreciate you giving me a call if anything crops up. This case … hell’s teeth!”
    He shook his head and tucked another wad of snuff under his lip.
    “I wouldn’t mind taking a look at that folder,” Silje Sørensen said while Håkon fumbled with his top lip: the snuff was too dry and would not grip. “I’ve picked up a few things here and there, but I—”
    “In a