Cnut - The Last Reel

By Stig Larssen

It is not unusual for Cnut to have to investigate a corpse pulled from the sea, but this corpse is not only unusual in that it is that of a foreigner, but that it leads the sheriff into the most important international case of his entire career.
From the clothing on the body, it seems that the man was probably American.
Checks on the passengers from the States coming into Gardemoen eventually provides Cnut with the man's name – Dirk Kramer, who gave his occupation as a film technician, and said that he would be working in Norway.
The company he works for is making a thriller, but even the director does not believe it is genuine.
Cnut's FBI contact, Mason Dee, tells him of the criminal pasts of fourteen of the film crew, including two serial killers, both of whom Cnut forces to leave the country, and of another member of the crew who is in the Witness Protection Programme.
When one of the other technicians goes missing, and his dog is found with its throat cut, Cnut believes the man to be dead, but when the team search for his body, they find instead that of a Russian FSB hit man, and Cnut realises that there are far more serious things afoot than first appeared.
Mason hedges when asked about it, which confirms Cnut's belief that he has a deadly serious case on his hands.
Three men are shot dead in the RV they are living in – the same RV in which the man who is on the Witsec lives, but is absent that night. The killers have missed their target.
The only thing those three men had in common was their use of two under-age Russian prostitutes, and Cnut has to investigate that too, causing their pimp to abscond, but they know the vehicle he drives and the registration number.
Cnut learns that a mafia killer is also in the crew. Checking the members of that crew, he finds an arsenal of weapons, supplied by a Norwegian dealer, and he too goes on the most wanted list.
The case develops rapidly, with the death of the Russian pimp at the hands of the police, and that of the arms dealer by his boss, but the problem of the missing man remains, and when Cnut contacts Mason again, the FBI agent tells him he is going to fly over from the States, to help him handle it.
Believing that they are well on the way to a satisfactory end to at least one part of the case, Cnut and Ilse arrange to interview one of the mafia team responsible for killing the three men, but it is a devilish trap.
The truth emerges that the case is one of massive international importance, and the missing man is the only one who can bring the matter to a successful conclusion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: TONY NASH
• Release date: Aug 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223825197

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.

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Stig Larssen

Copyright © Tony Nash August 2023. All rights reserved.

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

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 Handful of Destiny

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 :

LOOT

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 – Cabal of Silence

CNUT -  Deadly Premise

CNUT -  The Man From Next Week

CNUT -  The Man Who Did It Doggy Fashion

CNUT -  Tontine Trauma

OTHER NOVELS:

The Devil Deals Death 

The Makepeace Manifesto

Panic

The Last Laugh

The Sinister Side of the Moon

Hell and High Water

Hardrada’s Hoard

‘Y’ OH ‘Y’

The Thursday Syndrome

CHAPTER ONE

Cnut sighed contentedly.

For once, he and Ilse had been able to have a Sunday lie-in, a great breakfast of sausages, bacon, eggs, mushrooms, and fried tomatoes, a good walk with Nick, and time to sit at the vice and tie some new Montanas – the fly that he always insisted would be the one, if he were restricted to just one for the rest of his life.

He’d tied four of them when his cell phone played the first notes of Beethoven’s Fifth, and he swore when he saw the caller ID. It was the duty lead detective, DI Sigurd Kvindstrom.

Knowing that his ideal Sunday was about to be ruined, Cnut switched the phone on, and said, ‘Where’s the stiff, Sigurd, and is there a rush?’

‘No rush at all, sir. There’s no scene of crime, in fact. Following standard protocol, I just needed to inform you of a possibly suspicious death.’

‘Yes, of course, Sigurd. Sorry, I was enjoying a day’s rest. Give me the details.’

‘The Harbour Police found a male floater about twenty minutes ago, and the skipper of the boat alerted us. I’ve contacted Viv Blank, and she’s on her way to the dock with her meat wagon. There’s no point in ruining your Sunday morning, so you could wait for her to tell you when she has the corpse on her work surface.’ He paused, and then added the superfluous comment, ‘She was not a happy bunny.’

And you think I am?

‘I can imagine. Well, thanks for letting me know.’

Thanks? Who am I trying to kid?

‘Yes, sir.’

Cnut found Ilse by his side when he switched the phone off.

She asked, ‘Are we going to be busy this afternoon?’

He shrugged, ‘That will depend on the blonde bombshell.’

‘Your extra amour.’

‘She wishes.’

‘Well, I’ll get lunch ready. How are you doing with the flies?’

‘Getting there. I’ll tie another four, which will be enough for a season, and then pack it in.’

‘That should work, time-wise.’

They sat down to eat just under an hour later, and after a couple of mouthfuls of the feta salad Ilse had prepared, Cnut frowned and said, ‘It’s strange that Viv hasn’t called yet. With her Sunday ruined, she’ll want to ruin ours.’

‘It may have taken quite a while to transfer the corpse from the boat to her vehicle. You know what state some of those drowned bodies can be in. Don’t worry – she won’t hesitate.’

His cell phone did its intro again, and he shook his head in disbelief, ‘We talked that one up.’

Into the phone, he asked, ‘Are you ready for us, Viv?’

‘I will be in around an hour and a half. There’s no hurry. I’m going to have lunch before starting on him. Let’s say two o’clock.’

‘How old do you reckon he is?’

‘Slightly difficult, after his immersion. You know what salt water does to features. Probably early twenties.’

‘Any idea how long he was in the sea?’

‘I’d say three days minimum, and probably four maximum, but that’s only a guestimate, based on the usual time it takes for a dead body to float, and the state of maceration, both in the hollows of the hands, and the face.

The body is still fully clothed, and so the rest of the flesh will have been less affected. Anyway, you’ll see when I do the post.’

‘See you at two.’

Cnut and Ilse were waiting outside the pathology suite, encased in paper suits, overshoes, and head coverings from the supply outside the pathology suite, when Viv Blank arrived.

Viv was already wearing scrubs, as were her two dieners, Alex and Max, who followed her down the stairs.

The corpse was naked, and laid out ready on the stainless steel work surface.

As she had told Cnut, the features were somewhat distorted from maceration.

‘There is slight damage to the face and hands, from the attempts of crabs and sea lice to feed from them, but not too much. Luckily, he was not in the water long enough for them to do serious damage.’ Viv told them.

‘He has no tattoo or serious scarring on his body, so nothing there that will help you, but the clothing may give you a clue to identity. I took fingerprints, which, of course, were distorted, and tried the database, but it came back negative, for what that is worth. The jacket and trousers are standard fare, and have labels from an American online supplier. The shoes are American too – a medium priced brand, but the shirt is English, from Marks and Spencer. Of course, they don’t prove anything, since they can all can be bought online, but I can’t visualise a Norwegian buying from America, or from England, if it comes to that.’

‘So he could be American or English, and visiting Norway.’

‘Or a national, who has spent time in one of those countries recently.’

‘What about his teeth?’

‘There’s just one filling – a fairly standard job, which could have been done in any country. Not much help, I’m afraid.’

‘No handy passport in the pockets, I suppose.’

‘Identifying him is not going to be that easy. The only thing we found was small change in the left hand trouser pocket – eight kroner forty.’

‘So either he, or his attacker, if he had one, emptied them out. Was his entry into the water possibly suicide or accident?’

Viv chuckled, ‘Neither of those, unless he somehow whacked himself over the head with a heavy blunt object, before throwing himself in. It was possibly a length of pipe, or something similar, from the indentation – maybe something like a tyre iron. The skull was crushed where it contacted, and it would have rendered him immediately unconscious, if not dead. It was a heavy strike.

With the pockets emptied and that injury, you have a murder to solve, Cnut, and I’ve left the best bit till last – he was tortured before being killed.’

‘Tortured – how?’

‘Five of his fingers have been broken, and though the action of the water has covered up some of the damage, there are what look like cigarette burns on his scrotum.’

‘Shit in a bucket! That would indicate a mafia style execution.’

‘If you say so.’

‘Have you done the tox screen?’

‘Max is doing that now. He should be finished shortly. I’m about to start on the post. Are you ready with the Stryker saw, Alex?’

‘Ready, boss.’

She picked up a number twenty-three scalpel, and in less than a minute had done the deep ‘Y’ cut, in preparation for the ribs to be sawn through.

She stood back to let Alex do his thing, and the air was suddenly filled with fine dust, as he cut through one rib after another, until all were freed.

Viv took over again, and used a stretcher, to give her more access to the chest cavity.

Poking at the lungs, she told her audience, ‘He was dead before he hit the water. There’s only a trace of water in the lungs – and that would have leaked in after death.’

One by one, she removed the rest of the organs, stating that they were all normal, and then removed the stomach, and passed it to Alex, who stood waiting with a dish.

Max passed her a page of print, and she read, ‘cocaine present – obviously ingested, since there are no needle marks on his arms; a slight trace of alcohol, the early stages of gonorrhea, and positive for HIV.’

Cnut shrugged, ‘So among all the other possible reasons for his death, we should consider a sex crime.’

‘It seems so.’

‘Doesn’t it always?’

Viv nodded and said, ‘Well, there we are, folks, unless you want to wait a couple of minutes, to find out what his last meal was.’

Cnut shook his head, ‘You can let us know if it was something that might give us a clue to his identity, but otherwise, no. I would like a decent photograph, if Max can do his usual magic.’

‘He’ll do his best, as always, but as you can imagine, in this case, with the water damage, there will be a considerable amount of preparation work before a good one can be produced. I’ll send it to you as soon as we have it.’

‘Thanks, Viv. See you later, then.’

Back in the bullpen, Cnut told Sigurd Kvindstrom briefly what the autopsy had revealed.

‘So a full murder enquiry, sir?’

‘Yes, Sigurd, and a difficult one. ID must come first. I’ll give the whole crew a briefing in the morning.’

‘Sir.’

Cnut and Ilse took Nick to the beach for a run before heading for home.

There, he asked, ‘Do you fancy teriyaki salmon for dinner? There’s time for a piece of that smaller salmon I caught last time to thaw.’

‘Let’s make that with frites and green vegetables. I’ll see to those.’

‘I’ll get the fish out of the freezer.’

While they ate dinner, they talked about the problems in identifying the dead man.

Cnut suggested, ‘We’ll check first of all the recent Misspers, though it’s probably too soon for anyone to have reported him missing, then the airport arrivals for the last three months. Everyone arriving is photographed now, as an anti-terrorism precaution. We can use the new sixteen-point facial recognition system, though with the distorted features, even that may not be good enough. We might have to do a manual search, and that will take halfway to forever. It will depend on how good Max can make that photograph. Until we have that ID, and find out where, if anywhere in the country, he was employed, or details of his family and acquaintances, we are nowhere.’

‘So we are not looking forward to tomorrow.’

‘No. How about some of that serinakaker for dessert?

‘Coming right up, darling.’

~~~oOo~~~

They were early to work the next morning, as always, and Ilse got to work on the white boards, ready for the morning briefing.

At ten to nine, Max sent Cnut the photo. The face was identifiable, and they realised that a lot of work had gone into making it so, by removing the bloating by cutting and removing subcutaneous tissue.

Cnut copied it, and transferred the copy to the screen system they used.

The troops wandered in, and sat down expectantly, seeing Cnut standing on the podium, ready to address them.

No one was late, and he began, ‘We have a new murder to solve. This man,’ He used the pointer, ‘was found floating in the harbour yesterday. He’d been dead around three to four days. There was no ID on him, and the only thing we have to go on is the origin of his clothing – America and the UK.

That leads us to believe that he could be American, or just possibly English, and therefore, unless he has worked in this country for a long time, he could have arrived by air or overland, and if the latter, it’s unlikely that we will be able to find him, unless he arrived by ship. All those passengers, like air travellers, are photographed.

Now, we need to look at around six months’ arrivals, and that is a huge job, so each of you will be given an airport or sea arrival point, and a time span to check.

We shall be using the biometric facial recognition programme too. As you know, the latest version works on sixteen points, and we may recognise him that way, but we need to hedge our bets.

Dag Tromsø will be co-ordinating your research, and will issue you with the necessary dates, places, and so on for you to check.

Apart from the murder, there was just one suicide last night. The woman left a note that appears genuine, and there were no suspicious circumstances.

Thank you for your attention, and for the work you are about to undertake.’

It was just before five on the sixth day after that when DI Ingrid Olsen came into the inner office with a huge smile on her face.

Cnut felt excitement. She had found something.

He asked, ‘Success?’

She nodded. ‘I’m convinced, sir, though it will pay to check with the facial software. I’ll send it through to your computer. If it is him, he landed at Gardemoen eleven weeks ago, on a flight from New York. His name is Dirk Kramer, and he gave his occupation to the checking office as a film technician, and his reason for visiting this country as work.’

Ilse got up, smiling, ‘That calls for a celebratory drink, don’t you think?’

She switched Bambino on – the smaller coffee machine that they had bought after a sex-change mad woman had tried to murder them in their office, and their previous machine, Giovanni, had been smashed in the melee.

The face that came up on Cnut’s screen was not an exact match for that of the murdered man, but it was very close, and he appreciated Olsen’s perspicacity.

He selected the facial identification system and asked for a check.

It came back with a match, on the basis of twelve points of commonality.

Cnut sat thinking as he drank his coffee, and murmured a question to Ilse.

‘What has a film technician, who said he was in Norway to work, been doing for eleven weeks?’

She shrugged, and grinned, ‘Filming, I guess.’

‘Yes, but where, and with whom? Some private company?’

‘There are quite a few, I believe. Let’s have a look.’

He typed Norwegian film companies and search into the computer, and it came up with eight: Eutoria Film, Fuuse, Maipo Film, Norsk Film, Norwegian Film Institute, Piraya Film, Sandrew Metronome, and Teip Ltd.

He said, ‘These eight are the largest in the country, but there must be a couple of dozen smaller concerns. Anyway, I’ll try these first.’

One by one they told him that no one by the name of Kramer had ever worked for them, but then an official of Norsk Film suggested, ‘There’s an American company making a film in Oslo, I believe. I don’t know the name of the company, nor who runs it, but one of our guys mentioned it to me the other day.’

‘Thank you very much.’

Cnut passed the snippet of information to Ilse, and added, ‘It sounds likely that Kramer was working for that company, but how do we find it?’

‘Finding where he’s been would help. I’ll get Dag to check every hotel in the city first. He must have stayed somewhere, and then we could check the names and occupations of other passengers on that plane that he arrived on, and a few flights either side of that. If a full crew came to Oslo to film, we might find out the names of the other members, and locate them.

He walked down to Dag Tromsø’s workstation and told him, ‘I want you to check every hotel in the city for a visitor by the name of Dirk Kramer. As soon as you can, please, and when you’ve done that, I need the names and occupations of all the passengers who were on the same flight as Dirk Kramer. Did DI Olsen give you the details of that flight?’

‘Yes,