Read Burned for Free Online

during a police press conference, especially at the early stages of the investigation. It is known as “tactical considerations.” The strategy is to give everyone, the killer included, as little information as possible about any leads the police may be pursuing or any evidence they may have found, so they have time to gather all the evidence needed to build a case.
    Nøkleby and Gjerstad know they are playing a game now. NRK has picked up two important pieces in The Great Jigsaw: honor killing and flogging. Bendiksen would never have made such allegations at the press conference without knowing that they are true, or pretty close. Nøkleby straightens her glasses. Gjerstad looks more uncomfortable now. Brogeland, who so far hasn’t uttered a single word, shifts in his chair to find a more comfortable position.
    It happens all the time. Reporters know more, much more, than the police would like them to, and, in many cases, they hinder the investigation. It is a complex dance for two; each partner depending on the other for results. Plus, on the journalists’ side, there is rivalry, grueling competition with everyone covering the same case. Online newspapers publish at a speed that limits the life span of the story, and it’s always about finding the Next Big Thing. It puts increasing pressure on the police and forces them to spend more time dealing with the press than doing the job they are meant to do.
    Nøkleby ends the questions once P4, VG, and Aftenposten have had their fill, but she can’t get back to work yet. TV and radio stations need their own interviews to give their viewers or listeners the illusion of exclusivity; the questions are repeated and Nøkleby has another chance to say—
    Exactly.
    It is the same performance every time. Everyone knows that proper journalistic work starts after the press conference.
    Henning decides to find Iver Gundersen and agree on the best way to cover this story.
    After all, he is supposed to be working again.
    And the very idea of that strikes him as bizarre.

9
    The reporters try to squeeze in more questions, but are brusquely dismissed by the uniformed trio, and the reporters file out. Henning is hemmed in by people he doesn’t want to be near, someone shoves him in the back, he bumps into a woman in front of him, he mutters an apology and desperately longs for more space and greater distances.
    They spill out into the foyer and he looks for Iver Gundersen. This would be easier if he knew what Gundersen looked like—there are at least fifty journalists present. Henning decides to find Vidar from NTB and ask him, but he doesn’t have time to do anything before Nora appears in his field of vision. And he in hers.
    He stops. They can’t avoid talking to each other now.
    He takes a tentative step toward her, she mimics him. They stop a few meters apart. Eyes meet eyes. All he can see is a face which contains a multitude of sentences that have never been uttered.
    “Hi, Henning.”
    Her voice is like a blast of icy wind. The “hi” rises in pitch and the “Henning” drops. He senses she is speaking to a creature that has done her a severe injustice but to whom she is forced to relate. He says “hi” to her. She hasn’t changed, but he spots her grief just behind her eyelids, from where it could erupt at any moment.
    Nora is shorter than most women and she tries to compensate for this by wearing high heels. She has short hair. Not like a boy, it is not ultrashort at the back, but her fringe is high up her forehead. She used to have long hair, but the short style suits her. The last time he saw her, she was ashen. Now her skin and her face glow. He suspects it might have something to do with Corduroy. The glow suits her.
    Christ, how it suits her!
    Many expressions inhabit Nora’s face. When she is frightened, she opens her mouth, her teeth show, and she closes her eyes slightly. When she is angry, she raises her eyebrows, she frowns, and her lips narrow. And when she