Today you can read an excerpt from the Nordic crime thriller Sister by Kjell Ola Dahl. Plus, I’m hosting a giveaway of the book, too! Read on for more details. Thanks to Anne Cater and Orenda books for allowing me to take part on the tour.

Kjell Ola Dahl Sister book coverAbout Sister

Oslo detective Frølich searches for the mysterious sister of a young female asylum seeker, but when people start to die, everything points to an old case and a series of events that someone will do anything to hide…

Suspended from duty, Detective Frølich is working as a private investigator, when his girlfriend’s colleague asks for his help with a female asylum seeker, who the authorities are about to deport. She claims to have a sister in Norway, and fears that returning to her home country will mean  instant death.

Frølich quickly discovers the whereabouts of the young woman’s sister, but things become increasingly complex when she denies having a sibling, and Frølich is threatened off the case by the police. As the body count rises, it becomes clear that the answers lie in an old investigation, and the mysterious sister, who is now on the run…

A dark, chilling and up-to-the-minute Nordic Noir thriller, Sister is also a tense and well-plotted murder mystery with a moving tragedy at its heart, cementing Kjell Ola Dahl as one of the greatest crime writers of our generation.

From Sister:

It wasn’t a long journey. Soon they were driving into the refugee centre by Elvestad. Guri parked by what appeared to be the main building. Matilde pulled up beside her.

The doors slammed as they got out.

‘This is where I work,’ Guri said.

‘One of your rear lights isn’t working,’ Frank said.

‘He used to be in the police,’ Matilde said.

‘Good job you aren’t anymore,’ Guri said. ‘There’s a lot more than the rear lights that doesn’t work on the car.’

A group of tall, lean Africans were playing basketball on a court. They waved to Guri, who showed Frank and Matilde the way in.

The place felt like an institution. The residents sat in small groups, chatting, playing cards or Chinese chequers, or simply trying to kill time.

A man in jeans and a sweater grabbed Guri. All three of them stopped. Guri gave him a quick hug and asked him, in English, to fetch Aisha. But the man said Guri should come with him, so she showed Frank and Matilde into a small room and said, ‘Wait here and I’ll bring her to you.’

The waiting room also smacked of an institution. Second-hand tables, second-hand chairs and by the windows hung stiff, yellow curtains that could well have been the originals from the time when the house was built many decades before.

The woman who followed Guri into the room a few minutes later seemed very young. She wore brown trousers and an acrylic sweater with a roll neck, probably a survivor of the 1970s. Her black hair was gathered in a thick ponytail. It was clear from her facial features that she was unwell. When she talked, there was a white streak of saliva at the corner of her mouth, and she sat with a rigid, crooked grimace on her lips as her eyes flickered nervously between Frølich, Matilde, Guri and the interpreter, a buxom woman in a dark dress, her hair covered by a white hijab. She introduced herself as Havin and told them in good Norwegian that she had lived in the country since the early nineties.

The woman spoke to the interpreter, who spoke to Frølich. The woman’s name was Aisha. The interpreter took the trouble to explain that Aisha was also the name of the prophet’s youngest wife.

Aisha said that her sister had left Iraq in the autumn of 2005 and had come to Norway. The family had been in touch via the telephone. She had been working and had earned money and was happy.

Frølich remembered the time of the Bush administration’s bombing raids on what they called the Axis of Evil. He remembered the immense anti-war demonstration in Oslo in which he’d taken part.

He asked Aisha what her sister’s name was.

‘Sheyma.’

‘When was she born?’

The young woman hesitated. Said something.

The interpreter said that Aisha thought her sister was eighteen when she fled.

‘So she must be around thirty now,’ Frank said, appraising Aisha, who could barely be eighteen.

‘You can’t have been very old when your sister fled?’

Aisha didn’t answer.

‘Why did she flee?’

The young woman shook her head. ‘No understand.’

‘She doesn’t understand,’ the interpreter said.

He took a deep breath and waited, wanting to give her time. There was nothing else forthcoming.

‘What kind of work did your sister do in Norway?’

The interpreter translated: ‘Hotel work. She tidied rooms and made beds and cleaned at a hotel.’

‘You don’t know which one?’

The interpreter asked.

The woman shook her head again. ‘A hotel in Oslo. She made beds, cleaned.’

‘When did you lose contact?’

‘No understand.’

‘You said your sister rang home. When was that?’

‘Two years later, in 2007,’ the interpreter said.

‘Has she contacted you since then?’

Aisha shook her head.

Frank turned to Guri. ‘But you’ve tried to trace her?’

‘We have. But we can’t find her name. She must’ve changed it.’

‘Why would she do that?’

Guri shrugged. ‘Aisha’s sure she’s alive and living in Norway.’

The interpreter translated. Aisha nodded energetically and said something.

‘I can feel she’s here”,’ the interpreter translated. ‘“I know Sheyma’s in Norway.”

‘She made a long journey to get here?’

Aisha nodded.

‘Was there any special reason for her choosing Norway specifically?’

Aisha sat thinking after the interpreter had explained. ‘No understand.’

‘I mean, did she know anyone here? Why did she choose to come to Norway instead of Sweden or Germany, for example?’

Aisha glanced anxiously from one to the other and finally shrugged her shoulders.

‘Did she ring home many times?’

‘Once. She was so happy.’ Aisha smiled. ‘Happy to be in Europe.’

‘Did your sister travel alone?’

The young woman eyed him as the interpreter translated, and she gave a curt answer.

‘She doesn’t know,’ the interpreter said.

‘Surely she must know whether her sister fled alone or with others.’

The interpreter sent him a kind look. ‘She doesn’t know. If she doesn’t know, she doesn’t know.’

Frank leaned back on his chair. Trying to make eye contact with the young woman, which appeared to be nigh on impossible. Aisha looked down and away, as though not willing to meet his gaze. An air of helplessness seemed to surround her, but also a vulnerability, which emphasised how lonely she must be. However, none of this made the task any easier.

He glanced at Guri and Matilde for help, thinking they must see how hopeless this all was, but their attention was focused on the young woman on the chair.

‘Help me, sir. Please help me to find my sister,’ Aisha pleaded in English, leaning across the table.

Matilde nodded authoritatively.

Frank realised that everyone else in the room was looking at him, as though he were the main protagonist, someone they expected a few timely words from.

‘I assume you’ve checked other refugee centres to see if she’s there?’ he said to Guri.

She nodded. ‘I need a pic, a photo,’ he said. ‘Something to show people.’

The interpreter translated.

Aisha still appeared confused. She said a name.

Guri intervened. ‘Shamal?’ She turned to Frølich. ‘Shamal. He’s in this section. He can lay his hands on the picture.’

Guri went to the door. The same man in jeans and a sweater appeared and was gone again. ‘Shamal’s off to get the photo,’ Guri said, and closed the door.

Kjell Ola Dahl Sister banner

Giveaway

Doesn’t this sound like a terrific book? I wish I could enter the giveaway on this one, but I can’t. But you can! All you need to do is like/comment on this post or share this giveaway on Twitter. 

The giveaway for Sister will be open until April 24, 2020, at midnight CDT (Chicago time zone). Good luck!

Update: I’m extending the giveaway deadline until April 30, 2020, at 11:59pm CDT.