This has happened:
Frilansjournalist Lydia Salvesen comes with German Shepherd dog to Tvedestrand because old editor of the local newspaper has received a tip that someone tries to bribe politicians to get “through” one utbyggingssak. Those who do not accept money, threatened the life!
Lydia shall take old editor, but he’s disappeared into the soil.
Read also: Murder case was dismissed
At night find Lusepelles My husband is a bloody kvinnelik in Hulgata. Journalist Hakon Kjellvik look a little closer and “corpse” proves to be an exhibition dock full of red paint.
Advertising is nice stuff
Even though “corpse” was only an exhibition dock, specific the two decided to call the sheriff.
– He gets at least retrieve the dog before tablecloths get their hands on it. Even a grown German Shepherd dog has little to line up when Norway’s strongest mayor is on the warpath after dogs that shit all roads, said Kjellvik. He took out your cell phone and browsed in contact list when cat owner grabbed him by the arm.
– Now army e it! You know what will happen tomorrow?!
– You mean revival meeting in Philadelphia …?
– Use Haue, då man! Crime Festival for swinging! Lahlum and the rest of the criminal intellectual elite is heading to Tvedestrand! And they want press coverage.
– You mean this is a “stunt” orchestrated by the book town?
– Naturally! Kløvstad PR genius, the brain behind. Smart guy to bu in Ændal.
– I will not let me use the kind of marketing! stated Kjellvik. He crushed his cigarette butt under heel with a grade fixed tramp.
– Let contrary attend langeleik, it could drag my nuts oven off, every man. You get a good spread, a proper kiosk overturn. You remember haloween robbery kiosk tea Svein. Advertising is important, Sedu! Truth be told, sales of chat edged Kleint in the past.
– But what shall we do with the dog?
– Get borrow your phone, then e get an e know to retrieve the beast with the same. Imagine scare of Lusepelle that way! When va jaggu carry so far not water went on me ouch!
Back in the newsroom took the old fox directing:
– Now write my article and adds it ready nettutgaven. You call the sheriff tomorrow just after the stores have opened. Då get my maximum effect. Say you’ve got tips on a damelik in Hulgata. Not tell exactly to what liggæ her. Dei has benefited from leite bit. Då stretched it to gather Moe people and mi get a little show.
The morning after police used guys a while to find the right alley. And headstock with red paint was so lifelike that even seasoned police officers, hardened by many years of service in Amli, shuddered. They approached carefully in order not to destroy tracks, and sighed with relief when they could conclude that there was not a living human lying there utterly dead.
But much ado was it!
Johnsen beard becomes even whiter
– So Moe commotion it has not been Stranna since watchmaker devastated, said Per Jørg Johnsen to himself as he walked down Hulgata.
He had received booking “They silent witnesses” of the legendary straight chemist Charles Bruff, and having to fetch the book in stock room he rented the house that constituted one half of the alley exhibition doll was found in.
Homeowners were trying to brush up and a bunch of junk lay before the door to boklageret.
Per Jørg eased away wallpaper rolls, fish bowl cans and other junk. Underscore lay even an exhibition dock. He grabbed his arm to pull the spectacle aside.
Dokka proved a real equal! Johnsen beard lost instantaneous even more of its former glory, and then he would call the police, jumped phone out of his fingers like a wet bar of soap. He had to crawl around on all fours to find it again.
In his confused state he entered moreover wrong number. Halfway through his staccato reporting, he heard journalist Kjellvik hawk at the other end of the thread. But the factor’s order is notoriously indifferent.
Late Night approached dødlinja themselves and Kjellvik summarized:
1. One equal proved an exhibition dock, while an exhibition dock was a corpse.
2. The sheriff was called by a kennel owner who would get rid of a fussy dog. A chip undercoat revealed that the owner named Lydia Salvesen – identical to the murdered woman.
3. Behind the fence to the neighboring property was murdered handbag, apparently thrown away.
4. In the bag was a diary where it was inserted a sheet of paper; a note written by a local famous person. The date stood at the top right corner. The woman may have been given paper the night before, just before she began her short, stillborn career in show business.
memo content was most startling: International financial acrobats had secretly purchased a range of new E-18. According to the official plans, which the developers tried to bribe and threaten politicians to adopt in record time, was to be built a conference center. It was a cover for the real business: the largest brothel!
Kjellvik remembered a neighbor who went on gledeshus and came back out with credit.
The note ended dramatically: Investors henchmen were come to Tvedestrand, equipped with abundant cash. If there was no use of money, they had even more cash methods …
Blood stains in the driver’s seat
People who stood outside Terna cafe Saturday mornings recognized immediately the man who came sauntering disorderly over soda trap: crime writer and historian Hans Olav Lahlum. Fortunately did not give the local audience expressed their interest as spontaneously as an elderly man at a book launch in Oslo: “Gee, are you in real life?!”
Crime riddle that was presented in Tvedestrandsposten Tuesday before, should be resolved by authors and a cleverly audience. But the discussion was halfhearted. Oddvar Pedersen exclaimed after a while: “Mi lulling down total matter!”
Just then a man came running up the stairs and stuck a note in his hand on bokbysjef Solveig Røvik. She faded. Meeting was dødstille.
– Sheriff fears that it has happened yet another murder. Car to old editor is found by Arne Garborgs way 36. Unlocked. Blood stains in the driver’s seat. Clear traces match. Editor’s cell phone is found on the floor under the passenger seat. Police said he was called by the murdered woman last night!
Bomodden sees ghosts
During the winter had parking guard Svein Bomodden put away clogs and have jacket over the sandy white uniformasskjorta. It annoyed him, but now needed warm clothes. He was out on his nightly round when lilleviseren passed twelve century. Icy fog in from the bay, close as in a Maigret novel.
A lone, dark car stood in the square in Bakkeskåt. Bomodden got the same tingling sensation as when he had a grown bull moose on the grain. It was admittedly free to park at night, but the car had already exceeded the maximum parking time. The only thing that worried the guard was the foreign hallmarks.
Bomodden stiffened with fee block in hand. He glimpsed a figure in the shadows at the old lumber outlet. He breathed a sigh of relief when the ghost gave a sound and materialized as Helge Johansen. The latter changed course to have a chat. They were the same industry, so to speak. Helge repaired dents as furious car owners put in the car roof.
– He derre where you can trøgt fining. The car har’kje moves MOE as one millimeter over the last two days.
Helge stopped abruptly and went Bomodden lightning speed with them into the shade of a dilapidated shack.
– See where ! he whispered, barely audible.
Outside Day Pub came two men carrying a large sack. They scouted watchfully before they sneaked across the parking lot. Sack writhed desperately when it was tossed into the trunk. The two men disappeared from the car again.
The sheriff worked overtime and lifted the receiver on the first ring. He gave the agents told to keep the parking supervised. Although he would call in reinforcements, where now they were to find, before he joined the task force. He would park behind the Town Hall, and creeping past AMDALS old fish shop.
Unfortunately, thugs back to the car before the reinforcements were in place. One gangster swung towards heath and placed two briefcases on the ground, but his accomplices eased one trolley into the back seat, sat down behind the wheel and started the engine.
The sheriff charged ahead with the gun at waist height. The man in the car gave full throttle. Then he would stop to pick up his colleague and suitcases, he got in the mirror spot sheriff’s coal-black gun muzzle. He changed his mind, and it was wise of him. Had sheriff remembered to turn off the fuse on the weapon, the situation could become dangerous!
The man active adjacent heath had stopped to take a leak. Purely to beat the sheriff! He treiv suitcases and stormed towards the center.
Hunting of life and death
The sheriff was used to run after bootleggers in Vegårshei, and did not give up when he had first pilot.
thugs in front of him was trained, but was unknown in Tvede Strands alleys and gloomy alleys. Besides, he had Italian footwear with welted, mirror smooth leather soles.
breathless necked he passed the shop where Jorgen Berg in past times sold lutenakker.
At the height of Tvedestrandsposten he had the sheriff just twenty meters after . But suddenly disappeared legs under the vigilante and he was sitting on the FUA. A scent of hundebærsj piqued nostrils.
The sheriff came up again. Swapped was now only a shadow outside Reidar Christensen AS. Sheriff glimpsed still a chance. While he stormed toward trail fished his gun out from his pants pocket. This time he remembered fuse. He was so shaky that the shot went off in vilske but bang reverberated between the walls and got knitting needles in Turid Yarn and Manufaktur to jingle. Man with suitcases stood stunned for several seconds.
The sheriff was jealous again. When gunpowder smoke had settled, he saw gangster in full gallop along Tjenna. He was picked up by the dark car, which disappeared at high speed.
Kare Lillebø must have breakfast
Kare Lillebø had early Sunday morning received notification downtime in plant at Tangen. Gums had made pump no. 3 to the pure elastic engine. Perhaps tablecloths introduce local ban on the sale of hygienic articles. It would save Kare many headaches, and the population would rise.
Kare had not had breakfast before he left home, so he decided to get a bite on Terna café.
(To get the plot of this story to go Ihop, had Holder already opened at seven, although it was a day of rest. It can also be added that when the said café hosted parked on Knud Knudsen space, disappeared two men from the buried garbage containers.)
Mayor January tablecloths were looking at early inspection round to see that the city was clean and pretty on crime festival last day. He met Kare precisely by garbage containers.
– The lid of the garbage hunting there are piskadausen pip open. It must have wedged themselves exclaimed Kare and went to investigate.
– Tell if you need raw power! cried tablecloths hopeful after him.
– A bolt is broken. But what holing ?! It is a briefcase down there. Wait, then e go away in the car and fetch bamboo rod with dass paper hook.
The moment after he had fished up, not just one, but two suitcases. He gave them to the mayor, and fetched Toolbox to replace the pin in the hinge.
tablecloths concentrated on suitcases. As old policeman, he instantly opened the locks and stared at the contents with eyes wide open, before he closed them (bags) with two sharp bangs.
Kare looked questioningly up.
– The master shall take e mæ a! exclaimed the mayor and trotted toward the administration building. Had some met him, they would set golden dollar signs in his eyes.
At the information board in the middle of Fjærkleivene were two black-clad men with sunglasses and followed the scene. If that bloomin lid had wedged themselves, they would have gotten hold of suitcases that had been thrown in desperation under the sheriff’s powerful fire.
They took no chance put up a against the scalp the Branden by a strongman who now had secured money. He was obviously in a torpedo rival organization.
The two men threw away the smoking cigarettes and jumped into the car. Sprinkle sand as Inge Ramleth caring had spread beyond out over the road disappeared in a hail of fender edge.
It was just biting into his defeat. Underworld in Tvedestrand, Scandinavia Chicago, was too tough!
(For reasons browser probably understand, we let it be a tiny hope that old editor is still alive. Is he in the sack in gangsters luggage? We put our trust that Lahlum & amp; Co. finds him next year.)
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