On A Dark Sea (The DCI Dani Bevan Detective Novels Book 2) (8 page)

              Bevan gazed out of the window, watching the snow-capped mountains zig-zagging across the horizon. The sun was liquefying into a narrow strip of orange behind their darkening peaks. ‘Do you know Andreas personally? Why did he ask about your wife?’

              Karlsen was silent for a moment before responding. ‘Sofie works for another oil company in Stavanger. It is one of Barents’ competitors. She’s a scientist. Sofie is also on Andreas Nilsen’s Christmas card list.’

              Bevan nodded her head with understanding but said nothing. Calder shuffled back into his seat and stared out of the window. The car then proceeded in the direction of the outskirts of the town, without the occupants uttering another word.

Chapter Fifteen

T
he landscape always appeared quite different after a heavy frost, Bill thought to himself, as he pulled back the curtains in their bedroom. Joy was already downstairs making tea. Bill glanced up and down the quiet street, his eyes lingering for a moment when he spotted something out of place.

              One of the cars parked on the kerbside was not covered in a layer of silvery-white dust like the others. The windscreen of the Ford Focus sitting opposite their house was clear and a thin sliver of exhaust could be seen snaking from the rear. Bill peered more closely. He made out the bulky figure of a person seated behind the wheel, bundled up in padded clothing and totally impassive. Bill took a note of the number plate before pulling on his dressing gown and going downstairs to join his wife.

              Joy immediately poured him a cup of tea from the pot. ‘What’s the matter? You look terribly pale.’

              ‘There’s a car outside in the road. Someone’s watching the house.’

              Joy automatically put a hand up to the frilly neckline of her full-length nightgown. ‘How do you know?’

              ‘He’s sitting out there with the engine running. There are no tyre marks in the frost. I think he’s been there all night.’ Bill furrowed his brow in a deep frown.

              ‘Who on earth could it be?’

              Bill shook his head solemnly and then jumped out of his seat, striding into the hallway and dragging on his thick overcoat and boots. ‘I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.’

              But by the time Bill had marched out of the front door and reached the pavement, the car was nowhere in sight. Only a rectangle of dark tarmac amidst the sea of white indicated where the vehicle had once been.

*

Dani was beginning to understand why everyone in Scandinavia wore a woollen sweater underneath their jackets for work. In her thin blouse and cardigan, she was bloody freezing. Bevan went back to her hastily packed case and rummaged through the contents. She discovered a shapeless, ribbed burgundy roll necked jumper that she rarely wore, largely because it was so unflattering, unbuttoned her shirt and pulled on the thicker garment instead. 

              When Bevan entered the hotel’s dining room for breakfast, she noted that Andy had also dressed more warmly today. He was wearing a cable-knitted jumper with little snowflake motifs, which looked very much like an unwelcome Christmas present from a time before he’d lost all the weight.

              ‘Don’t say a word, Ma’am. I didn’t think I would actually need to wear it.’

              Dani smiled but said nothing, pouring herself a coffee instead and selecting a large pastry from the basket in the centre of the table.

              ‘So, what’s the plan this morning?’ Andy glanced at his boss over a spoonful of cereal.

              ‘Karlsen and Hustad are going to question some more leaders of local environmentalist groups. We are going to pay a visit to Barents Oil.’

              ‘Do you think Dieter is the right person to be leading the investigation - isn’t he too close to the oil business?’

              ‘I suspect his wife’s job gives him a good perspective on the whole thing. I get the sense he’s a decent cop.’

              ‘But what’s happening to Charlie Riddell’s family must be making him nervous. I wonder if the Karlsens have got any kids themselves.’

              Bevan shrugged her shoulders and drained her coffee cup. ‘Come on, let’s get going. The headquarters are only a short walk from here.’

The security at Barents Oil was tight. Despite showing their IDs, the British detectives had to empty out the contents of their bags and submit to being patted down by a burly guard in uniform. They were then escorted to the senior executive’s office by a secretary who said nothing until she had reached the door, where she gave a sharp knock and introduced them to her boss as police officers.

              Emrik Hansen was in his mid-fifties, but he was trim and sported a fashionable hair-cut and designer glasses. He greeted them warmly. ‘Please take a seat. I’m keen to help Charles to clear up this unpleasant matter. I’ve told him to work from home for the time being, so that he can be with Kristin and Gabriel.’

              ‘Is it usual for your executives to receive threats and hate mail?’ Andy Calder asked.

              Hansen leant forward, adopting an earnest expression. ‘Unfortunately, yes. It is the nature of the job. My IT department do their very best to filter the worst of it out. I rarely see any unpleasant material addressed to myself, although I am in no doubt that it is sent on a regular basis.’

              ‘Had there ever been attacks on your employees before this?’

              The CEO pursed his lips. ‘I wouldn’t be too quick to assume that Charles’ problems relate to his work here at Barents. In answer to your question, about two years ago, the windscreens of the management team’s cars were smashed in, whilst they were outside in the car park. We had CCTV footage of the incident, but the perpetrators wore hoods pulled low over their faces. Within a few days, a local environmentalist group claimed responsibility. I believe the police prosecuted a couple of young men for criminal damage.’

              ‘Nothing else?’ Andy pressed, having already viewed the details of the incident back at the Criminal Investigation Bureau.

              Hansen reclined in his chair, evidently thinking this through. ‘Not here at Barents. I do recall something involving a scientist at one of the other oil corporations in Stavanger a little while ago. We aren’t the only show in town, detectives.’ The man gave a thin smile. ‘Can I get Maya to bring us some refreshments?’

              ‘That won’t be necessary,’ Bevan said quickly. ‘We’d like to take a look at Mr Riddell’s office now please.’

‘You can tell Charlie Riddell’s a Scot. He hasn’t got the minimalist thing going that all the other offices seem to have,’ Andy commented, as he sifted through the items on the desk wearing his latex gloves.

              ‘Yes, there’s quite a lot of clutter. He must drive his secretary mad.’ Dani examined the framed photographs that Riddell kept on his workstation. One was a studio shot of a very pretty blonde woman cradling a newborn baby. The other was of Charlie with an arm placed firmly around Maisie’s shoulders. There was a fantastic backdrop of fjords and mountains behind them and the girl was beaming contentedly for the camera. Dani pointed at the picture saying, ‘that’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her.’

              ‘I wonder if it was taken before or after her dad had another child,’ Andy said quietly. ‘Maisie looks quite young there.’

              Bevan noted the half bottle of Scotch stored at the back of one of the fitted cupboards and took a few pictures on her phone of the more recent documents that Riddell had been working on. After this, she decided it was time for them to make tracks back to the Bureau. A different, but equally taciturn secretary saw the detectives out of the building. There was no sign of Emrik Hansen as they were guided through the huge, glass fronted lobby.

Chapter Sixteen

K
arlsen and Hustad had arrived back just before their British colleagues. Magda looked at Dani and crinkled up her face. ‘None of the pressure groups known to us is admitting to targeting the Riddells. I can’t see the point of any of these crimes if the organisations responsible aren’t getting any publicity out of it.’

              ‘Unless they’re trying to pressurize Charles into doing something for them,’ Andy responded. ‘What is he currently working on?’

              Dani said, ‘I looked through Charles’ inbox at Barents Oil. I must admit I didn’t understand much of it, but his recent correspondence seemed to relate to the choice of contractors for their latest exploration site. We could always question Riddell on it further.’

              Karlsen nodded. ‘That’s an excellent idea. These contracts are fought over in a very competitive way. There is a great deal of money available for the drilling companies who are awarded a deal. Good thinking, Detective Calder.’ The Norwegian officer placed his hand on Andy’s shoulder. 

              Bevan perched on the edge of a desk, feeling the discomfort of its sharp angles. ‘The CEO at Barents mentioned an incident involving a scientist at one of the other oil companies in Stavanger. He intimated it may have been linked to the environmentalists.’

              Magda shot her superior a sideways glance. ‘He must have been referring to Aron Holm.’ She didn’t elaborate on the statement, so Bevan looked towards Dieter to tell her more.

              ‘Holm is the Chief Scientific Officer at Skaldic Oil Conglomerates. Eighteen months ago, he was attacked when he returned to his car which was parked outside a restaurant in the town. It occurred down an alleyway where one of the street lights was out of order. Holm was very badly beaten. The man was in hospital for a couple of weeks. He has fully recovered now.’

              Dani slowly rose to a standing position, wondering why they were only hearing about this now. ‘Did you make an arrest?’

              Dieter shook his head. ‘We questioned many people involved in the environmental movement but just like now, we found no solid connection to the assault. There was no CCTV camera where it happened and not a single witness came forward. Holm said his attacker was wearing a balaclava which covered his face.’ The Norwegian policeman cleared his throat. ‘My wife works in Holm’s department. They were all very shaken up by the incident, so I can assure you that we took it extremely seriously.’

              ‘I’d like to speak with Mr Holm, if that’s possible,’ Dani stated.  

              ‘If you believe it is necessary then I can set up a meeting.’

              ‘I do think it’s necessary, yes.’ Bevan tried very hard to keep the frustration out of her voice.

*

Skaldic Oil Conglomerates operated out of a more traditional building than its rival, closer to the older part of Stavanger. Holm’s office was in a small room on one of the top floors. Bevan caught a glimpse of an impressive view from out of the louvred window. Dani noted that this was every bit the domain of a scientist. Textbooks lined the wooden shelves and pieces of laboratory equipment filled every available space on the floor.

              The Scientific Officer himself was aged in his late-fifties. His white hair was thick and obviously in need of a cut but the man’s face wore a broad smile. ‘So, you are here from Glasgow,’ he stated. ‘I lived in Maryhill for a few years in the early 90s. I was a visiting lecturer at the university. I have happy memories of the place.’ Holm gestured for them to take a seat.

              ‘I’m sorry to be bringing up such an unpleasant incident again, Mr Holm, but as Detective Karlsen may have told you, we think that an oil executive in Stavanger is being targeted by an extremist group. There might be a connection to the attack on you.’

              The scientist sat down heavily in his chair. ‘I will be honest with you, it is an episode of my life that I would dearly love to forget. There was never any evidence that environmentalists were responsible for the assault on me.’

              Andy leant forward, placing his elbows on his knees. ‘Did you receive any threatening communications in the weeks and months leading up to the day you were attacked?’

              Holm ran a hand through his snowy locks. ‘I did go through all of this with the detectives at the time. My department was working on a technique for creating a synthetic substitute for crude oil. It was a highly secretive project at the time, although we now have a patent for the product. Within a decade, it should be in limited commercial use. My approach is based on the Fischer-Tropsch process, first pioneered in Germany between the wars, but it incorporates a simplification of our current methods of oil refining.’

              Bevan and Calder glanced at one another, their expressions displaying incomprehension.

              ‘I have long been an opponent of drilling for oil in the Arctic Ocean,’ he continued, ‘I have written many scientific papers on the alternatives. The problem for the oil companies is that the research involved is lengthy and there are no guaranteed results. Fortunately, Skaldic Conglomerates has funded my team for the past decade. Some of the environmentalist groups tar all oil workers with the same brush, but the larger organisations are actually very supportive of our work.’

              Andy nodded. ‘Did you get a good look at the man who attacked you?’

              ‘It was very dark. I had just reached for my keys when I was grabbed from behind and shoved against the bonnet of my car. The punches came thick and fast, mostly aimed at my body but some at my face. It was one of the blows to my head that made me lose consciousness. I have to assume that the assault carried on after that time. At one point early on, I tried to twist around and noticed the man was wearing a balaclava. That was all I saw.’

              ‘Did you ever have a theory as to who was responsible?’ Dani asked.

              Holm smiled wryly. ‘I actually always assumed it was a case of mistaken identity. I couldn’t imagine who would want to harm me in that way.’

              The two detectives stood up and thanked the scientist for his time. As they approached the door, Andy turned back and said, ‘who had you been having dinner with - if you don’t mind me asking?’

              Holm looked firstly confused and then he caught Calder’s drift. ‘Oh, it was an office party. The attack took place in December and we were at the restaurant for our Christmas meal.’

              ‘Thank you Mr Holm,’ Andy replied. ‘I hope we won’t have to bother you again.’