Why don't you just go knock on the door?
And why aren't there more officers here?
It's summer vacation.
I suppose you need a search warrant first?
No, I have probable cause, so I don't need one. Thanks.
-What's he doing now? -How the fuck should I know?
Oleg. Oleg, keep quiet. Listen to me.
If your mom wakes up right now, I'll be forced to kill her.
Do you understand? We have to help each other.
We're gonna take a little trip together.
Grab your jacket.
Come on. Hurry up.
Oleg?
Oleg!
Oleg?
Oleg. No need to worry, okay?
Willy.
Harry?
-How did you get in here? -Balcony door was open.
-What do you want? What's going on? -I think you already know that.
I don't get it.
We've come to take you in.
Who's "we?" Looks like you're here alone.
Are you fucking drunk?
Marius Veland, Camilla Loen, Lisbeth Barli, Barbara Svendsen.
What're you going on about?
Uh…
-Emergency dispatch. Go ahead. -My name is Rakel Fauke.
My son's been kidnapped.
Alright. Why do you think he's been kidnapped, ma'am?
There was someone in my bed, and my son's not here, someone took him.
That's why he put on his Rosenborg jersey. He hates that jersey.
He would never put it on unless…
he was letting me know something was really wrong.
Just try to calm down. A missing jersey doesn't necessarily mean--
I've worked for the police.
I know when it makes sense to report a missing person,
and I know someone took him.
The jersey isn't enough--
He did it to tell me that something was wrong!
I'm heading to the station.
Sending us Lisbeth's finger was a bad idea.
The human excrement under her nails, we found seeds in it.
Fennel seeds, Willy. From Theatercaféen.
The exact place you had lunch the day Lisbeth disappeared.
The problem is human digestion would take twelve hours for that seed to reach
the end of your colon as fecal matter.
So I don't care how often she fingerfucked you,
those seeds must've gotten under her nail after she disappeared.
Which means what?
That you murdered her, cut off her finger, and put it up your ass before we got here.
-That's what we call technical evidence. -Technical evidence.
So that's concrete and irrefutable, huh?
Okay.
I knew you guys would probably show up here with a dog, right?
So I realized it was the best spot to hide it.
Her finger, I mean.
-Smart. -Hmm.
And there was a degree of sentimentality.
That picture…
I didn't know the picture out there was from the Staromák Square.
But then I saw a photo today with the same two towers in it.
Martin Aminov used to pick up women there.
Women who could support him financially.
Women like your wife.
That's when I understood your motive.
You discovered that Lisbeth had started
an affair with Aminov on your honeymoon in Prague, right?
You wanted revenge.
You wanted to make them pay, didn't you?
I knew that Lisbeth had a…
short fling with that man.
But I didn't realize it was an affair until we were renovating the apartment.
That's when I found the two letters.
"My darling. You light my whole body on fire."
"You're the only one I think about."
"I'll get us a penthouse and make love to you
in a king-sized bed next time, not an alley."
"You deserve so much more than what you wrote."
"A marriage shouldn't be all about convenience."
"That's the road to a life without love."
"Like I mentioned before, I got scammed by a close friend."
"I need to borrow some money. Just to get back on my feet."
"As soon as it's all taken care of, I will come get you."
"My account number is on the back of the photo."
I remember him from Prague four years ago.
He came over to our table to sell us some necklaces with star-shaped diamonds.
And of course he gave us a card with an address,
in case we wanted to order something.
Call me anytime.
Do you know what it feels like to realize that the person you love…
has not only betrayed you, but never loved you to begin with.
What about the other one?
That one Lisbeth wrote.
It was postmarked in the Czech Republic.
But it was returned because the mailing address couldn't be found.
"Dear Martin. It's been so long since I've heard from you."
"I hope the money I sent helped get you back on your feet."
"No matter how hard I try, I can't get you out of my head."
"When I make love to my husband, I imagine that he's you."
"Where are you?"
But that wasn't the worst part. That was seeing the date.
'Cause she must have sent it…
in February.
This year.
What else could I do?
Mm.
So you decided to stage her murder because of that.
And then pin it on him.
You're a good director, Barli.
But first I had to find him.
-Never met him. -Okay.
So I said that I was in the market for star-shaped diamonds
and I made it clear which hotel I was staying at.
All I could do then was sit and wait.
When he finally called,
I told him I needed someone who could get me the diamonds discreetly,
along with some weapons. No middlemen.
And then we made a deal that he would come to Oslo
and drop off the stuff in a garbage can in Frogner Park every five days.
So you knew that he was there, and that he wouldn't have an alibi
for all the murders you committed.
And you repeated that four times.
You used an accent to record messages on cassettes left at the crime scenes.
A five-pointed devil's cross.
It will show you the way.
Then you sent us your wife's finger.
Why'd you make it so complicated?
Because I needed a scapegoat.
If the case went unsolved and Lisbeth was just missing,
everyone would've thought it was me.
'Cause it's always the husband.
-Where is she? -You should know that.
Alright.
Drop it and move away.
I said drop it!
Good. Hey, sit down!
She had the exact same look in her eye.
Deep down, I'm just a simple man who followed his heart.
But maybe you can tell me which heart is more damaged, Detective.
Is it the heart that's uncontrollable, that can never stop loving no matter what,
or a heart that's incapable of loving anyone back?
-Where is she? -She's here.
She's always here.
That's what you don't understand.
I've put her somewhere only I could ever find her.
Somewhere that's reserved for me and her.
And I want her here forever.
I preserved her in alcohol, Harry.
My problem is I keep trying to do it again.
But she just didn't understand.
What are you talking about?
Okay, now get up.
-What are you talk-- -I said, get up!
Turn around, that's right.
Oh, fuck.
The new Lisbeth…
panicked.
She was threatening to ruin everything, just like you.
Fuck… Jesus Christ.
Isn't she beautiful?
Huh?
Look at her.
Look down. All the way down.
Listen…
I think our little show deserves a satisfying ending.
Right, Harry? The audience would never believe it
if I just went along quietly to the police station.
They need a happy ending.
So if there's no happy ending here, I'll just make one.
That's my life's motto.
Although in this case…
it's a death motto.
Now let's count it down.
Five…
You're so broken, Harry.
Four…
The fuck you looking at, boy?
We both know your job isn't the problem, it's you.
Three…
You remember our conversation?
-Two, Helge! -Two…
It's me.
Oh my God! Someone please help me! Hurry, somebody help!
Call an ambulance! We need help down here!
Good God, what did he do?
He wanted his story to have a happy ending.
-Yep? -Have you heard from him?
-Harry? No. -Okay.
What the hell are you doing, Tom?
-Let me know if he contacts you. -I'm…
I wanna go home.
MISSED CALL
CHECK YOUR VOICEMAIL NOW, HARRY.
Oh, f…
Fuck, fuck.
-Hello? -Hi, it's Harry.
-I've been calling you all night. -Sorry, I don't have my cell phone.
-Is Oleg with you right now? -I don't know where he is.
I'm at the station right now.
They're telling me to wait it out as long as there's no suspicion of foul play
but I know someone took him, I know it.
-I'll find Oleg, okay? -What? Where are you?
-Please go home. -Wait, but Harry, I can't just leave--
Go home and lock the door now. You won't be safe at the station.
You have to… you just have to trust me, okay?
Leave right now. Trust me.
Ready to go home, ma'am?
Hey, Harry.
Me and Oleg were just wondering where you are.
Listen, if you put a hand on him, you're dead.
-Where are you? -I asked you first.
What do you want?
I want to make things right, that's all.
Right? It's not too late for that.
-Tom, listen to me-- -Just give me the address.
-Tom, please don't do it. -Please?
Harry, I made you a life-changing offer, but instead you do this to me.
This is your fault.
Think it through--
You know the sound when someone gets their throat slit?
The knife cuts in through the cartilage, opening the neck.
Then there's this little wheezing sound.
Tom…
Sounds like when you're at the dentist.
You know, the air escaping when you sever the trachea.
The campus housing, room 406.
Student housing. Right.
Okay, Oleg and I are on our way.
Give me 20 minutes.
Just leave the door open. Sit on the floor with your hands above your heads.
Tom. Tom!
Fuck.
Stop fucking crying.
Iggy Pop songs starting with C. You first.
No, cut it out.
"China Girl."
Not now.
It helps.
"Candy."
"Cry for Love."
"China Girl."
You said that one.
There's two versions.
Uhm… "Cold Metal."
Breathe.
Show your hands, so he can see.
Oleg, are you okay?
Of course he's okay.
Are you okay?
-I'm sorry. -No, no, no.
Stay there. What the fuck is this?
I told you to stay in the room, didn't I?
The room key and the cuff key.
No, spit! Spit it out!
I guess you'll have to switch up your plan.
What fucking plan?
Your plan, the one where you kill Aminov and me in there.
Make it look like I shot him and then myself.
You've already done it, it's how you murdered Ellen.
What about the fact that you just got dumped by your girlfriend,
so you kidnapped her son on your way here.
Tragically, they found his body next to yours,
and you had this in your pocket.
Huh?
I knew you'd find us.
All I had to do was make it complicated enough for you to not suspect anything.
Hey, stop! Oleg. Oleg!
Come back here. Come back, or I'll shoot Harry.
Summer vacation sucks, right? Nobody's working.
What're you talking about?
Everything gets delayed, like getting all the cameras outta here.
I called Otto.
We're rolling. Say hi.
You're finished.
Hand me the gun, alright?
All that's on that camera is me arresting a deranged cop who lost his mind,
and went off and kidnapped a detainee.
You basically just confessed in front of a camera, Tom.
Shut up. You don't know what the fuck you're talking about.
Cameras don't pick up sound.
Come here.
-Hey, take it easy. -Shut up.
Push the button.
It's over, Tom. Everything's gonna be on camera now.
-There's no camera in the elevator. -Huh?
Get in. Go!
I said get in!
I found your little gun, Harry.
Went down the garbage chute, sorry.
I said get the fuck in.
Come on, get in!
Here, take this.
Thank God, he fucking fell for it.
Hey, hey, hey!
Help!
-Stop the elevator. -Harry!
Harry, help me!
Harry!
I'll kill him, Harry.
Oleg!
Come on, Harry. Send the elevator back up or I'll blow his fucking head off.
Stop the elevator. Let go!
Harry! Harry, I'm begging you. Don't do this.
Stop!
-Are you okay? -Yeah.
-Did you swallow that key? -No, that was the storage room key.
Fuck, he's coming after us.
Stay in the elevator, Ride it up between the two floors.
I'll be back, I promise, okay? I'm coming back.
When I go
I go alone
There ain't no one
Ever looking out for me
Just the sun
My own lean shadow
And the wind
Out among the trees
Home…
-Mom! -Oh, God, honey. Oh my God.
Sweetheart.
-Are you okay? -Yeah, I'm fine.
-Are you sure, honey? -Fine.
-Are you sure? -Yeah.
Is it over?
Yeah, for now.
Okay.
Sweetie, were you scared?
I wasn't afraid once Harry got there.
-I'm sorry, but I have to go. -What are you saying?
You're better off without me.
You can't decide that for us.
Please come back when you're done.
Okay.
I'm gonna… I'll give you a call…
Yeah.
Forensics wants it to stay locked down for now.
The apartment's been scoured and they called it in.
The body's been ID'd, it's Toya Harang.
-Møller. -Evening, Chief.
All hell's about to break loose for you now, you know that, right?
Everyone in the media's gonna want a piece of you. Even overseas.
They've already heard about the Bike Courier Killer in the States.
Yeah, I'll survive.
Anyway, Martin Aminov is back in his holding cell.
We thought it was safest to keep him there until we clear things up tomorrow.
One last thing. "Character." Tell that to Harry, will ya?
-Yeah, it's an Iggy Pop song, Chief. -Sure, whatever you say.
By the way, your buddy, Eikeland, was in custody too,
but you'll be glad to know that we released him. He's a free man again.
Listen, don't tell anyone.
There's a chance I was slightly intoxicated when you busted me.
So…
I've spoken to Internal Affairs.
They feel confident the security footage from the student dorms,
as well as Aminov's and Oleg's statements,
will be more than enough to support your side of this.
You won't be prosecuted for Waaler's death.
But as for you taking Aminov out of custody
and breaking into Willi Barli's apartment, I'm afraid I can't promise anything.
I gotta go, Chief.
This is Maya.
Hi, this is Harry Hole.
Hang on. Don't tell me where you are.
-My phone could be bugged. -Yeah, I'm sure it is.
I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do.
They told me they'd take my little brother.
Yeah, I thought it would be something like that.
But now you have the chance to make it right.
I'm gonna give you a story that you can publish in Aftenposten.
But here's the catch.
You can only run it if something happens to me or my loved ones.
Okay?
Okay.
If your phone is bugged, then everybody knows about this now.
The cause of death is clear
but what I don't understand is the stab wounds.
-Must have been from the chisel. -Maybe.
But the more I look at them,
it seems like the wounds were inflicted post-mortem.
It looks like the knife was being twisted around too.
Harry, I need an explanation.
Right. For why I took Aminov out of custody,
or why I broke into Barli's apartment?
No, don't worry, we'll take care of that.
I meant more…
the approach.
You found out that our serial killer wasn't textbook.
Thank you.
I'm not talking about the evidence. Tell me the origin of the idea.
Did you know that Duke Ellington used to ask his piano tuner
to adjust the strings
because he didn't want his piano to be perfectly in tune?
I didn't.
The Bike Courier Killer was too fine-tuned somehow.
Our theory felt right, but not genuine.
I was wrong, Harry.
-I'm sorry about that. -Yeah.
And the reason I wanted to meet was to tell you that…
I'm not going to sign your dismissal paperwork.
Oh, really?
I have to say, you don't seem overly excited.
-Have you gotten any other offers? -Two.
What kind of work?
Øystein Eikeland wants me to drive his cab on night shift.
The other offer?
It didn't work out.
The truth is that we need you.
I need you, Harry.
Okay?
It would be completely naive to think
that Waaler is just a single rotten apple in the department. There are others.
I would really like you to keep helping us find out who else is in his network.
I don't think that I'm your guy.
No, I know that nobody wants to snitch on their colleagues, I get it.
But you would be reporting to me and me alone, alright?
Just us.
But that would also mean that when you write your reports,
or when you talk to the press,
you'd have to keep quiet about Waaler's weapons smuggling.
I know that's a lot to ask of anyone, so of course it's totally up to you.
Understood.
Now, in case you decide to drive a taxi instead, I have to ask,
is there anything we don't know about?
Did… Waaler say who else could be implicated in the smuggling ring?
Did he mention any names?
-Anything at all we can work with? -No.
Good work with Barli.
Always the husband.
-Always the husband. -I needed a scapegoat.
If the case went unsolved and Lisbeth was just missing,
everyone would have thought it was me.
My guess is the robber's threatening her with a gun,
saying he'll shoot her, and she's in shock.
It's me…
It's always the husband.
-Hi. -Hi, it's me.
There's something I have to take care of. Could we do dinner instead?
Yeah, no problem. I love you.
-And you love me. -Yeah, I do.
So Beate is 100% certain?
The husband was never on the list of suspects.
It was the first time Beate had seen him. But yeah, she's sure.
Yeah? What's going on?
You murdered your wife.
Five years ago, you walked into the bank where she worked and shot her in the head.
He robbed a bank just to shoot his wife?
He staged the whole thing as a…
As one big diversion, just like Willy Barli.
Both of them knew that the husband is always the first suspect.
Whether it's a serial killer or a bank robber.
The number you're calling is no longer in service.
What do we do now?
It's simple. We regroup and lay low for a while.
After that, we'll come back stronger.
Hey ho, let's go
They're forming in a straight line They're going through a tight wind
The kids are losing their minds The Blitzkrieg Bop
They're piling in the back seat They're generating steam heat
Pulsating to the back beat The Blitzkrieg Bop
Hey ho, let's go Shoot 'em in the back now
What they want, I don't know They're all revved up and ready to go
They're forming in a straight line They're going through a tight wind
The kids are losing their minds The Blitzkrieg Bop
They're piling in the back seat They're generating steam heat
Pulsating to the back beat The Blitzkrieg Bop
Yeah, that's Tom Waaler.
He grew up down the street.
Mmm. How'd you know each other?
I just remember he had it bad.
I heard stories about his dad beating him at home.
There were rumors that it got a lot darker than that.
Um…
His dad worked as a bricklayer.
He didn't work a lot. So…
He's a heavy drinker.
I don't remember much else. Sorry.
No…
He called you Solo, and he said you were buddies.
Yeah, Solo's a nickname I got working in the shop, but the other part…
Tom Waaler and I weren't buddies.
He didn't really have any friends.
None?
No.
I don't really know why. I always remember him being pretty nice.
He was the type to help old ladies across the street.
A boy scout. Super harmless.
Tom was reclusive.
A little weird too.
And then there was his dad's death.
It was pretty bizarre.
A mishap at home like that's one in a million.
Oh, yeah?
Well, yeah…
I mean, it's one thing to stumble over drunk, but…
to stumble onto the point of the knife you're holding?
Yeah.
Thanks a lot.
Shoot 'em in the back now
What they want, I don't know They're all revved up and ready to go
They're forming in a straight line They're going through a tight wind
The kids are losing their minds The Blitzkrieg Bop
They're piling in the back seat They're generating steam… ight wind