his notebook out of his pocket and dropped into a chair next to Sejer.
"Footprints," Sejer muttered. "I've been sitting here studying them, and I have a feeling that something doesn't mesh."
He shoved the photos across the table to Skarre, who patiently put off telling his boss about his own discoveries.
"Tell me what you see," Sejer said.
Skarre looked at the pictures. "Seven footprints, three of which – no four – are virtually useless. But the other three of them are clear, with visible patterns. Grooves," he said. "Or waves. Quite large, size 43, wouldn't you say?"
Sejer nodded. "Go on."
"Is there anything else I should notice?"
"I think so."
Skarre studied the photos again and put one aside, leaving two. The same two that Sejer had pulled out and stared at for an eternity.
"Both of them are right shoes," Skarre said. "Most likely a sports shoe of some kind. Trainers perhaps."
I agree.
"One of them is clearer than the other."
"Correct."
"And one of the waves here," he pointed with his finger, "is broken. A gash in the sole, it looks like."
"But it's not on the other print, is it?" Sejer said.
"But it's the same shoe, isn't it? They're both right shoes, aren't they?"
"Is it the same?"
"I don't know what you're getting at. Maybe it's a stone. A stone that's stuck in the grooves and leaves a white spot on one of the waves."
"A stone under the shoe that later falls off? Is that what you mean?" Sejer was staring at him.
"Well, yes, it's possible."
"Or the rubber sole could be damaged," Sejer said. "Another thing: one of the impressions is less crisp than the other. As if that sole is more worn."
"What are you getting at?" Skarre said.
"The possibility that there were two of them."
"Two killers?"
"Yes."
"And both of them had trainers with grooves in the soles?"
"That's what people wear nowadays. Especially young men."
"Then it's not likely to be Errki," he said. "Since he's always alone."
"Your parachute jump is getting closer," Sejer said merrily. "I thought we should take it from 5,000 feet, so you'd have a good descent."
Skarre felt a wave of pure fear swamp him. He inhaled a little extra oxygen to clear his head.
"The worst moment is when they open the plane door," Sejer said. "The roar of the wind and cold air. You'd be surprised how cold it is at 5,000 feet."
"I have something to show you," Skarre said, anxious to change the subject.
He opened his notebook and pointed. Sejer read the page with a frown. "Did you find him?"
"According to Mai, Tommy is away, but he says that he doesn't know where. I went to the house, but the father was out, and a neighbour told me that he was away for the weekend."
"Then we'll try again on Sunday night. Maybe someone will be there. And while I think of it, maybe you ought to take out some life insurance. Duo Insurance. I'll find the number for you."
"It worries me that the son is away somewhere, and the minute I go looking for the father, he's gone too."
"Maybe he has a cabin in the hills. Do you have ski gear, or anything like that? You don't want to buy a skydiving suit for just one jump. But boots are important. And you can buy some support bandages at the pharmacy, just to be safe."
Sejer leaned back in his chair and smiled brightly.
"Did you know that at the King's Arms they have 50 different kinds of beer?" Skarre said with venom. "They're open until 2 a.m., so if we start at 8 p.m., we should be able to try quite a few of them. I'll reserve a table close to the men's room."
"The wind pressure is so great that if you open your mouth during a free fall, you can't close it again. It turns inside out and you look like a monkfish."
"That whisky that you like so much? Famous Grouse? I checked with the bar, and they have it."
"Just keep your mind on the jump. Maybe this isn't what we thought. Someone has been after the money. If Tommy Rein has gone underground, he must have his reasons. And maybe he's working with someone."
"They would have struck at night. Not early in the morning. Besides, they would have come by car so they could make their getaway." Skarre stood up. "Don't forget to fill the fridge with beer. Nothing else helps the day after."
Sejer did not hear her knock. Sara was all of a sudden standing there with a bag in her hand.