Cnut - The Bone Age

By Stig Larssen

Sheriff Cnut's often heard plea – 'Oh, please give me a nice fresh corpse' is not what he is faced with in this case.

The bones found are those of a seventeen year old girl, who was six months pregnant when she was murdered and buried, between five and fifteen years back.

Cnut knows that every year, more than two hundred and fifty Oslo residents are reported missing. Of that number, almost three quarters are teenagers, the majority of them girls.

The ten-year period the pathologist suggests means that Cnut has to consider around fifteen hundred girls as candidates for the skeleton, and the only things he has to go on are the DNA, the height and the approximate weight of the dead girl, and a piece of the wool skirt she had been wearing, along with the metal buckle of her disintegrated belt, formed in the shape of an ouroboros.

He and his detectives attempt to obtain the DNA of a parent or sibling in every case, but of those that are available, not one is a match for the skeleton.

Progress is slow, as they work through the possible contenders, until only a few are left. One is Silje Aldersen, reported missing by her landlady, and it is impossible to obtain the DNA of one of her relatives, because her mother is dead, and she is estranged from her abusive father, so she gets put to the bottom of the pile, until the landlady, who has been on holiday, returns.

She remembers the skirt and the belt buckle, and they finally have their victim, but instead of the case becoming easier, it becomes far messier, with other corpses, buried later, found in various locations, one of them by the same killer who murdered Silje.

Cnut becomes sure of the killer, but has no proof that will stand up in court, and he is becoming bitter that the man will go free.

Then that supposed murderer is severely injured in a deliberate hit and run attack, and Cnut realises that he could have been wrong.

Faced with the only other possible candidate, he makes a move to unmask the killer that could end his career, sparking off an explosive finish, when both he and Ilse face violent death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: TONY NASH
• Release date: Dec 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215134528

Stig Larssen

Stig Larssen is the Norwegian pen name of Tony Nash – acclaimed author of over thirty detective, historical and war novels, who began his career as a navigator in the Royal Air Force, later re-training at Bletchley Park to become an electronic spy, intercepting Russian and East German agent transmissions, during which time he studied many languages and achieved a BA Honours Degree from London University. Diverse occupations followed: Head of Modern Languages in a large comprehensive school, ocean yacht skipper, deep sea fisher, fly tyer, antique dealer, bespoke furniture maker, restorer and French polisher, professional deer stalker and creative writer.

Book preview

Dear Reader,

Buying this book entitles you to any other one of my other novels of your choosing, sent free to your email address. Contact me at [e-mail], telling me what happens to Cnut at the end of this book, and which other novel you would like sent to you.

Copyright © Tony Nash Christmas Day Dec 25, 2022

This is a work of pure fiction, and any similarity between any character in it and any real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and unintentional. Where actual places, buildings and locations are named, they are used fictionally.

All rights reserved.

Other works by this author:

THE TONY DYCE/NORFOLK THRILLERS:

Murder by Proxy

Murder on the Back Burner

Murder on the Chess Board

Murder on the High ‘C’

Murder on Tiptoes

Bled and Breakfast

THE JOHN HUNTER/MET. COP THRILLERS:

Carve Up

Single to Infinity

The Most Unkindest Cut

The Iago Factor

Blockbuster

Bloodlines

Beyond Another Curtain

HISTORICAL NOVELS – THE NORFOLK TRILOGY:

A Most Capricious Whim

A Handful of Salt

A Handful of Courage (WWI EPIC)

No Tears For Tomorrow  WWII EPIC)

THE HARRY PAGE THRILLERS:

Tripled Exposure

Unseemly Exposure

So Dark, The Spiral

THE NORWEGIAN SERIES – author Stig Larssen:

LOOT

CNUT – The Man Who Bit The Bullet

CNUT – Past Present

CNUT – The Isiaih Prophesies

CNUT – Paid in Spades

CNUT – The Sin Debt

CNUT – They Tumble Headlong

CNUT – Night Prowler

CNUT -  Cry Wolf

CNUT -  When The Pie Was Opened

CNUT – The Bottom of the Pot

CNUT -  Mind Games

CNUT -  Nemesis

CNUT -  Cut and Come Again

CNUT -  The Man Who Did It Doggy Fashion

CNUT -  The Man From Next Week

CNUT -  Cabal of Silence

CNUT -  Deadly Premise

CNUT -  Deadly Relations

CNUT -  Hide the Lady

CNUT -  Hidden Agenda

OTHER NOVELS:

The Devil Deals Death 

The Makepeace Manifesto

‘Y’ Oh ‘Y’;  The Thursday Syndrome

The Last Laugh;  Panic

The Sinister Side of the Moon

Hell and High Water

Hardrada’s Hoard

"He knows death to the bone.

Man has created death" (Yeats)

CHAPTER ONE

Cnut was suddenly wide-awake from a deep sleep, and he lay still, to avoid waking Ilse, wondering what the cause was.

It happened sometimes when he was in the middle of a case, and his brain had worked out who the killer was, but he had just returned from a successful salmon-fishing trip, and was totally relaxed.

He’d phoned the office on his arrival home, and Detective Inspector Sigurd Kvindstrom, his deputy when he was away, had assured him that there were no open cases to worry about, so what had woken him?

He resisted a chuckle, as he realised that there could be only one cause: his sixth sense was telling him that he was about to be involved in a difficult case.

Well, that could wait until the morning.

A small voice beside him murmured, ‘Do you want to share it, darling?’

He turned his head to find Ilse’s beautiful hazel eyes wide open and gazing into his.

He said, ‘Sixth sense. Damned nuisance.’

‘Well, I think you need something to take your mind off it, so that we can both go back to sleep, don’t you?’

She reached out her hand and found what she was looking for.

He laughed and took her in his arms.

At work, he checked the white boards, expecting to find a clue to his waking, but there was nothing except a domestic killing, a rape, where the rapist had already been caught and charged, and a hit and run.

Whatever it was, it was not there, and Bambino, their coffee machine, worked overtime throughout the morning.

Just after ten, he took Nick, their rescue Labrador, for a long walk, forcing his mind to think of the salmon he had played and landed in the last fortnight, but his thoughts kept coming back to that moment when he woke so suddenly.

Back in the office, with yet another mug of coffee, he blurted, ‘It’s too bloody quiet.’

Ilse laughed, ‘That certainly doesn’t bother me. Why worry? Some maniac or other is bound to murder a wife or friend at any moment, and then you’ll be complaining about too much work.’

She knew that was not true. He thrived on the extra effort needed to solve a case.

He shrugged, ‘Bring it on.’

In fact, it was three days later that the first inkling of an unusual case came to light.

A woman made a call to the police about a fistfight in the garden of a house opposite hers, and two uniforms answered the call.

They found two men, one with a bleeding nose and a cut above his left eye, and another whose trouser leg was torn, and with blood showing near the tear.

They were shouting vile abuse at each other at the top of their voices, seemingly unaware of the arrival of the police car.

Constable Rolf Calver, the driver, grinned as he blipped the siren, and watched the effect.

The two men stopped what they were doing, and turned towards the road.

Rolf suggested to his partner, Constable Bim Kohl, ‘Shall we leave them to it?’

Bim shrugged, ‘That would be my way every time, but you heard the controller, and he made a point of it – he said the old girl who rang it in is a pain in the force’s arse, and would certainly phone in again to complain if we didn’t check it out completely, and you know the amount of paperwork that could involve us in. I think we’d better go and have words.’

‘It looks like rain, and we could get wet.’

Bim laughed, ‘We need to avoid that paperwork. Come on – it won’t take more than a couple of minutes, and then there’ll only be a couple of lines to write.’

Later, he was to remember what he’d so flippantly uttered, and the old adage, Famous last words.

They exited the car and strolled down the path to where the men stood.

Bim asked, ‘Now what’s all the fuss about?’

Both men began to speak at once, and Rolf shouted, ‘Stop!’

It had the desired effect, and he added, pointing at one man, ‘You. Tell us quietly - why the fisticuffs?’

‘He dug up my rose bush.’

He pointed to the bush, lying on the ground next to a hole. A spade lay close by it.

The other man began to object, and Rolf shouted, ‘Shut up!’

He turned back to the complainer, ‘Do you know why he did that?’

‘He says it was encroaching on his land.’

Rolf turned to the other man and asked, ‘Was it? What is your name, anyway?’

‘Svein Ingers’.

‘And yours?’

‘Trond Kelvan.’

‘Right Svein, can you prove that the bush was on your land?’

‘Yes, I can. My boundary runs from that post you can see in my back garden to that other post that holds the gate. Just follow the line, and you’ll see that rose bush, and the other nine, are halfway over that line.’

‘All right, I see that, but why worry about a couple of roses? Are you intending to put a fence up or something, and the rose bushes are in the way?’

The man looked pooh-faced, ‘Well, no. It’s just...’

Kelvan interrupted, ‘It’s because I wouldn’t let him...’ He shrugged, blushing furiously.

Rolf shook his head in amazement, ‘You mean you two are sexual partners?’

Kelvan lowered his head, but Ingers responded angrily, ‘Yes, we are – so what? You police are all alike – every one of you. I’m going to report you for your homophobic attitude.’

Bim intervened, ‘Now, there’s no need to feel like that. Rolf didn’t mean anything derogatory. In any case, he and I are...’ He made a feminine gesture and pretended to gaze into Rolf’s eyes lovingly, then urged, ‘Let’s all calm down. You must see that this is just a storm in a teacup, and I’m sure we can settle it all amicably.

Let’s have a look at that rose bush, and see if we can’t replant it just a little way over into Trond’s garden.’

Svein looked at Trond and murmured, ‘I’m sorry, love.’

Trond, beginning to cry, answered, ‘Me too. Come here.’

They embraced, both sobbing.

Rolf exchanged looks with Bim, wishing he could speak, and not daring to voice his feelings.

He jerked his head, and they walked over to where the rose bush lay on its side.

On the way, he murmured, mock angrily, ‘If you ever make out that I’m a poofter again, I’m gonna have you transferred to Traffic.’

Bim laughed, ‘Shut up, Rolf, or I’ll hit you with my handbag. My God, we do meet them, don’t we...what the fuck?’

Rolf followed his gaze.

At the bottom of the hole, there was a bone sticking out of the soil, and if he was not mistaken, it was a human femur.

He ran to the car and used the radiophone to call headquarters.

Cnut was in the canteen with Ilse, and he was in the middle of ordering his lunch, when his cell phone rang.

Ilse slipped it out of his pocket and answered it.

She listened for just a few seconds, said, ‘Thanks. Tell the sergeant to keep the uniforms there and to hold the two that were fighting, and we’ll come over in about half an hour’.

Cnut finished his order and asked, ‘Something interesting?’

She shrugged, ‘Uniform has found an old bone in a garden, and they’re sure it’s human. They’ve brought in the two people involved, and had the nous to phone SOCO, so that they can check it.’

‘Well, that’s not enough to spoil my lunch. If it’s that old a bone, it won’t matter if it gets a bit older, and they can sweat for a while.’

He did not hurry over his double portion of pan-fried turbot, topped with a chervil and garlic sauce, and then went back to the counter for a large slice of cheesecake, to which he added a good dollop of cream.

Nicely replete, He and Ilse strolled across to the initial holding cells, where the sergeant in charge told them, ‘The two love-birds are in number three, but I’ve got Rolf Calver, the constable who brought them in, and his partner, Bim Kohl, waiting to speak to you in my office.’ He pointed across the hall.

Cnut strode across, with Ilse close behind.

He pushed open the door, and the young constables who had been sitting behind the desk jumped to their feet.

Cnut nodded and said, ‘At ease. I don’t bite – at least, not on Tuesdays when there’s an ‘R’ in the month, unless there are exceptional circumstances. Now what’s the story behind this bone find?’

Calver explained, and Cnut was silent until he finished speaking.

‘So the two lovers say they know nothing about the bone?’

‘They were most upset.’

‘As they would be if they’d buried someone, and the police found out.’

‘Very true, sir, but personally, I don’t think they had anything to do with it. They were genuinely astonished when we showed it to them.’

‘Have you done a psychology degree, or the police personal reaction course?’

‘Er, no, sir.’ He frowned, ‘I haven’t heard of that last one.’

Of course you haven’t, you dozy sod. It doesn’t exist.

‘So how could you judge whether their so-called astonishment was real?’

The poor young cop, in only his second year in the force, hung his head.

‘You’re right, sir. I was at fault there.’

‘At fault, lad? Of course you weren’t. You gave your honest, personal feelings about the matter, and that is always a good thing.’

Calver looked relieved, ‘Thank you very much, sir.’

‘Neither of you touched the bone?’

‘Oh, no, sir. I phoned SOCO, and we waited until they arrived.’

‘Good man. Absolutely the right thing to do. Was Ari Blank in charge of the team?’

‘Yes, sir. I don’t know him, but that’s what he told me his name was.’

‘Okay, constable. You can both go back to your other duties now, and try not to talk about finding that bone to anyone – wife or girlfriend included.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Rolf tried to hide his dismay. He’d already phoned his girlfriend, and told her about it, with a considerable amount of embellishment. It was the high point of his career to date, and he wanted to impress her.

Cnut read the look and chuckled, ‘All right, my boy, I understand. Don’t worry. It was natural for you to ring your nearest and dearest. Police patrol is not the most exciting occupation, and you don’t find parts of a human skeleton every day. Get along with you now.’

He and Ilse walked across to the holding cells, where they found, in number three, the two men embracing.

He cleared his throat to announce their presence, and the two parted. Both looked tearful and started speaking at once.

He held up his hands.

‘Now then, who actually owns the land where the bone was found?’

Svein Ingers shrugged, ‘I do.’

‘The address, please?’

‘Seventy-four, Allhelgens Vei, and Trond lives at seventy-two.’

‘And how long have you lived there?’

‘Just over five years. Are we going to be charged with murder?’

Cnut resisted a smile, ‘Not unless you did murder someone.’

They protested their innocence together, and he held his hand up again to stop the tirade.

‘First of all, which of you planted those roses?’

They both looked puzzled, and he urged, ‘Come on now, one of you must have done.’

Svein shook his head, ‘Not me. They were there when I moved in. Did you plant them, sweetheart?’

Trond answered, ‘No, I moved in just a few months before you – you know I did – less than a year before, and those rose bushes were there then, and well established.’

It was what Cnut had expected, and he knew it would be a waste of time questioning the pair any longer. He told them, ‘I’d like you to allow the sergeant to take your fingerprints and samples of your DNA for elimination purposes only, and if you agree to that, you may go home afterwards. Your lives, however, are going to be disrupted for some time, while our scene of crime experts survey your gardens, and possibly do more excavations, so I would recommend that you go to a hotel or bed and breakfast place for a few days, until they have finished. If you have a word with the leader of the team, Ari Blank, and give him your cell phone numbers, he will be able to inform you when you can return to your properties. That should be the end of your problems, but we may want to speak to you again at some time.’

With their thanks ringing in his ears, he and Ilse left, after leaving instructions with the sergeant to take the samples.

Outside, in the corridor, before walking out to the car, he phoned Dag Tromsø, their young IT specialist, and told him, ‘I’d like you to check and make a list of all owners of seventy-two and seventy-four, Allhelgens Vei, Dag, going back fifty years.’

Dag answered, ‘On it, sir.’

It was not a long distance, but traffic was particularly heavy, and it took them over twenty minutes to reach the scene.

It looked like something from a film set.

Six marked vehicles were parked at odd angles outside the addresses, blue lights flashing. There was also a low loader.

Cnut swore at the sight of another vehicle parked further down the street, beyond the official vehicles – a sign-written Volkswagen with an aerial on the roof. They could see two people in the front seats.

Ilse saw what he was looking at, and pre-empted him with, ‘How did she know about this?’

‘She always listens to the police band. Someone must have mentioned this business on the air. Damn her hide.’

Kristen Tveit, his sometime friend, sometime nemesis would be plaguing the life out of him about the find, he knew, and was surprised that she had not yet phoned him.

He had to park almost fifty metres away from the property, and when they approached on foot, they could see what had been on the lorry.

A small JCB with a digger on the front stood just inside one of the gardens.

Ari was making sure that he had the necessary equipment for a large dig, but if that were going to happen, it would not be for several days. For the moment, they were sticking to protocol,  and four officers wearing full anti-hazard clothing were on their hands and knees in a small pit, working with trowels. Four others were in the process of erecting the portable tent that would soon be placed over the dig. Looking up at the darkening sky, Cnut reckoned that they would have to hurry, if they were to keep their fellow officers dry. Digging in mud would not be on their desired agenda.

Ari Blank, who had been standing near the pit, watching, had seen them arrive, and came down the path to speak to them.

Cnut raised his eyebrows in question, and Ari told them, ‘They have most of a skeleton. Looks to me as if it has probably been in the ground at least ten years. We’ll need the forensic anthropologist again on this one.’

‘Any obvious sign of what killed him or her?’

‘Not from what we’ve recovered so far. We are going to have to check the whole garden, of course, in case whoever dumped this one was a serial killer.’

‘Well, I thought it would be a waste of time, us coming here, but at least now I know the location. We’ll let you get on with it.’

‘I’ll keep you up to date.’

‘Thanks.’

Back at the office, Ilse watched as Cnut periodically sighed, shuffling papers around haphazardly, unable to concentrate on any one thing. She knew that with a case like the one that was breaking, he wanted to be actively participating. Being unable to do so had unsettled him.

Dag had provided a list of the previous occupants of the two properties, going back to 1970, giving not only their names, marital status, and dates of birth – and in some cases death, but also their occupations, and, for those still living, their present addresses. Cnut had studied the list, making notes of his initial thoughts – all the while knowing that it was a waste of time, until he knew