Death in Oslo

Lire ebook Death in Oslo
Auteur: Anne Holt

Death in Oslo
helped down from the podium; from the back he looked like a sorcerer as he was led gently indoors. The newly elected president was bare-headed and smiled broadly as she pulled her pale pink coat closer.
    In Oslo, evening was advancing stealthily outside the windows in Krusesgate and the streets were wet and free of snow.
    An odd-looking character came into the large living room. She limped, dragging one foot behind her, like the caricature of a villain in an old-fashioned film. Her hair was tired and thin and looked like a bird’s nest. Her legs resembled two pencils and went straight down from under her apron into a pair of tartan slippers.
    ‘That girl should’ve been in her bed ages ago,’ she muttered without saying hello. ‘Nothin’ gets done right in this house. She should sleep in her own bed, I’ve said it a thousand million times. Come over here, my princess.’
    Without waiting for the woman in the wheelchair or the little girl to respond, she scooped the child up on to her difficult hip and limped back the way she had come.
    ‘Wish I had a woman-who-does like her,’ Johanne sighed.
    ‘It has its advantages.’
    They sat in silence again. CNN switched between various commentators, interspersed with clips from the podium, where the elite gathering of politicians had admitted defeat in the face of the cold and were leaving to prepare themselves for the greatest swearing-in celebrations the US capital had ever seen. The Democrats had achieved their three goals. They had beaten a president who was up for re-election, which was a feat in itself. They had won by a greater margin than they had dared to hope for. And they had won with a woman at thehelm. None of these facts were to be underplayed. Pictures of Hollywood stars who had already arrived in town or who were expected in the course of the afternoon flickered on the screen. The entire weekend was to be filled with celebrations and fireworks. Madam President would go from one party to the next, receiving praise and giving endless thanks to her helpers, and would undoubtedly change into an array of outfits along the way. And in between it all, she would reward those worthy of reward with posts and positions, compare campaign efforts and financial donations, assess loyalty and measure ability, disappoint many and please a few, just as forty-three men had done before her in the course of the nation’s 230 years of history.
    ‘Do you think you can sleep after something like that?’
    ‘Sorry?’
    ‘Do you think she’ll be able to sleep tonight?’ Johanne asked.
    ‘You are funny.’ The other woman smiled. ‘Of course she’ll be able to sleep. You don’t get to where she is without sleeping. She’s a fighter, Johanne. Don’t let her neat figure and feminine clothes deceive you.’
    When the woman in the wheelchair turned the TV off, they heard a lullaby being sung elsewhere in the flat.
    ‘Ai-ai-ai-ai-ai-BOFF-BOFF.’
    Johanne chuckled. ‘That would frighten the life

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