The ball was once again in Simonsen’s court. He made a brief status report of the police’s immediate efforts. A detailed presentation was out of the question, but on the other hand he concealed nothing, not even Pauline Berg’s unauthorised questioning of her kidnapper, or that Andreas Falkenborg had succeeded in breaking into Arne Pedersen’s, the Countess’s and even his own home and eavesdropping on them, with catastrophic consequences for Jeanette Hvidt. None of those present reproached him for that however. Instead the national chief of police removed his glasses and asked, “You say that you can use the microphones to set a trap for him, how is that?”
Again the head of DSIS broke in.
“There is no reason for us to know. The last time Falkenborg was pressurised a little, it became a hell of a problem for us with the media, but the truth is that perhaps it could have prevented the mess we’re in now if the police had been allowed to get on it when they had him.”
The subject was dropped, which suited Simonsen fine, as neither he nor anyone else had yet succeeded in finding a plausible pretext that might lure Falkenborg out into the open. The chief administrative officer from the Ministry of Justice summarised.
“In other words, Falkenborg’s white commercial vehicle, and the warehouse you assume he has some place or other, and where he possibly is now, are the best options with regard to tracking him down?”
Simonsen’s reply was unambiguous.
“Yes, and not only the best, basically the only concrete ones. Furthermore we have initiated a series of general measures, such as heightened surveillance at financial institutions, petrol stations, ATMs, hotels, restaurants, swimming halls, community centres, camping grounds, traffic junctions, Internet cafés, libraries, and so forth-”
The Minister of Justice’s secretary interrupted and asked, “You are also guarding his home, aren’t you?”
Bertil Hampel-Koch, who was sitting next to her, whispered something that made her ears turn the same colour as her earrings. Simonsen continued without answering.
“However we perhaps have one clue that may lead us further. When we searched Andreas Falkenborg’s apartment, we photographed a key which we believe may be to the warehouse he obviously keeps somewhere in the capital region. The key has a series of numbers prominently engraved on it. None of the lock specialists can identify it, so we’ve released it to the press and expect it to be shown widely in newspapers and on TV as of early tomorrow. This sort of thing almost always produces a result. Someone must know what the numbers mean, and perhaps even what the key is to.”
The chief administrative officer from the Ministry of Justice asked sharply, “Why isn’t this already being done in the news broadcasts this evening?”
“Because we didn’t get to them in time.”
“But you said yourself that time was of the essence.”
For the third time the head of DSIS broke in.
“It’s people who conduct investigations, not machines, and just because a matter is time-critical, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t take time to investigate. But perhaps you think that the Homicide Division has been sitting around HS playing cards? Is that what you’re suggesting?”
“I don’t need to put up with that from you.”
“Then stop asking silly questions.”
“I’ll decide for myself what is silly and-”
Simonsen struck his hand on the table, so that the noise resounded.
“I don’t have time for bickering, and I don’t have time to explain why one thing hasn’t happened before another either. You can set up a commission to find that out afterwards, if the two women are killed.”
These words created quiet and a brief stand off until the public prosecutor coolly intervened. “Since no one else wants to say it, I will. The kidnapped detective works in your department, and you and your co-workers are presumably strongly personally affected. Would it be an advantage to transfer the ongoing investigation to DSIS?”
Simonsen had expected the question and decided that he would not comment on it if it arose. The proposal was not unreasonable, however unwelcome it was. It must be left to others to assess whether it should be put into effect. From the mood around the table, it seemed the prosecutor’s words had not fallen on stony ground. However Helmer Hammer, who until now had not made a peep, said curtly, “No! Konrad Simonsen is the operational leader, and everyone backs him up in his actions. Period.”
As no one wished to challenge the authority of the Prime Minister’s office, the matter was decided. Hampel-Koch departed from the topic and asked instead, “Have the two women already been killed?”
Helmer Hammer gave him a sideways glance. Hampel-Koch’s timing was perfect, like a magician deflecting the audience’s attention from his hat by conjuring a dove from his outstretched hand. Now it could be shown in the minutes that everyone was in agreement with Simonsen’s continued leadership of the case, in that no one had openly expressed disagreement with the decision.
Simonsen let Hampel-Koch’s question go to Ernesto Madsen, who said, a little nervously, “I don’t know, but there is no doubt that if he has not already killed them, he will, and will do it very soon. He does not intend to hold them prisoner longer than absolutely necessary.”
“And what would delay him? I mean, is there any cause for hope at all?”
“I don’t know about that, but with respect to the first part of your question it may be that he has to prepare the ritual he conducts when he murders.”
“Is that important to him?”
“Extremely important, he will not deviate from it a millimetre. Everything must be done exactly like his previous murders, all the way down to the slightest detail. For example, we know that he pretends to cut the nails of the women who don’t have long-”
Simonsen interrupted him.
“Not so many details.”
The Minister of Justice’s secretary gave a counter-order.
“Yes, I would like to hear that.”
Ernesto Madsen complied with Simonsen however and concluded, “Everything should be just like it always is.”
The gathering needed a few seconds to absorb the message, then Hampel-Koch asked, “But what preparation is there that may take time?”
“Unfortunately almost nothing, but for example he must have a red lipstick, and if he doesn’t have one, then he’ll have to find a shop and buy one.”
Everyone could see how quickly that could be done, but Simonsen pointed out, in a feeble attempt at optimism, “Bear in mind now that he’s being searched for everywhere, so maybe it’s not quite as straightforward for him as it sounds.”
The psychologist added, “He will certainly also have dug their grave before he kills them. Maybe that is delaying him. He threw himself into these two kidnappings without his customary time for preparation. In all other cases where he has killed, he has been able to arrange the whole thing long before he seized his victims. That could hardly have been the case this time.”
Doubtful looks were exchanged around the table. The odds were not in the women’s favour.
There were several questions for Ernesto Madsen.
“Could it perhaps help to appeal to him, I mean via TV? Perhaps an appeal from someone he knows?”
It was the national chief of police, this time with his glasses on. The idea was both close at hand and constructive, but Madsen shot down the proposal.
“It wouldn’t help in the least.”
The head of DSIS wanted to know, “Will he kill them together or separately?”
Madsen misunderstood.
“Do you mean in the same plastic bag?”
The chief administrative officer from the Ministry of Justice grinned scornfully, but was quickly subdued by an angry look. The head of DSIS did not let himself be shaken, he simply said, “That was poorly worded, I’m sorry. I mean, whether perhaps he will allow some time to pass between the two killings.”