Oslo, late November. The city dresses itself in Christmas lights, but the cold underneath is real. Crowds gather. Music plays. And somewhere behind the glow, a rifle is being assembled with steady hands.
A Salvation Army street concert becomes the perfect cover for a killing. One shot. One body. Panic in the snow. The shooter disappears into the holiday rush like he was never there.
Detective Harry Hole arrives to a scene that feels staged for maximum chaos. Witnesses clash. Timelines slip. A single clue suggests the assassin is trained, disciplined, and following a plan that started long before this night.
As Harry hunts through Oslo’s back streets and quiet rooms, the case opens into two worlds. One is the city’s public face, charity, faith, and tradition. The other is hidden, built from old loyalties, old crimes, and men who learned to survive by becoming ruthless.
The killer isn’t improvising. He’s correcting something. Every move points to a target beyond the first victim. Harry realizes the murder is not the end of the story. It’s the opening scene.
With Christmas closing in, the pressure turns personal. Harry pushes past orders, past politics, past the limits of his own body. Because the next shot is already scheduled.
And in a city singing carols, someone is about to deliver redemption at gunpoint.
