Her earrings bobbed in time as she nodded her head to underscore her argument. Simonsen said in an ice-cold voice, “If you make that sort of comment again, I’ll slap you. And don’t think that’s an empty threat, because you’d be wrong.”
Flustered, the chief administrative officer got up and moved away from the table, the national chief of police tried nervously to pour oil on troubled waters by postponing the matter to the next day, Ernesto Madsen, the head of DSIS and the prosecutor laughed openly, while the Minister of Justice’s secretary feverishly rooted through her handbag until she found an inhaler.
Finally Helmer Hammer cut through the confusion. Turning to the chief administrative officer, he said, “I think this is a good idea. If your boss has any objections, she knows where she can reach me.”
Then he directed his gaze at the national chief of police, who hesitantly stated, “Then let’s minute this then. Yes, we’d better do that.”
The Countess thought that a huge distance separated the courteous barefoot stroller she had spent time with in the Botanical Garden from the consummate powermonger she had just seen in action.
Hampel-Koch made a note, and the matter was concluded.
Only two minor issues remained, of which one took an unreasonably long time to settle. The national chief of police spoke uninterrupted for ten minutes about overtime hours and his strained budgets, even though hundreds of officers all over the country had voluntarily reported for unpaid duty to help find a colleague in extreme distress. Simonsen found this grandstanding sickening, but said nothing. He was delighted when Helmer Hammer at last could bear to hear no more and stopped the lament.
“I assume that you’ve sent a memo to your minister?”
“I haven’t done that yet.”
“Then we’ll wait until you do, the matter is not urgent.”
Simonsen got in the last word at the meeting, as he said without beating around the bush, “If police detective Pauline Berg gets through this, she will not be punished for her questioning of Falkenborg, and unfortunately that must also apply to the idiot she persuaded to go with her. She has suffered enough. No doubt he has too, although the two can’t be compared.”
It was a surprisingly unified gathering that broke up shortly afterwards.
CHAPTER 51
On his way out of the Ministry of Justice the head of DSIS approached Konrad Simonsen. He said in a quiet voice, “We need to talk. Now!”
Simonsen agreed; it was what he had expected. And hoped for.
“We can walk over to HS, and talk on the way.”
The head of DSIS considered this and then shook his head.
“Bad idea. Do you know Agnete and the merman?”
“If you mean the underwater sculpture in Slotsholmen Canal, then yes.”
“We’ll meet there in ten minutes, I have a place in the vicinity where we can talk undisturbed.”
Out of habit Simonsen glanced at his watch, but his objection about lack of time remained stuck in his throat. The head of DSIS turned and left.
Fifteen minutes later Simonsen and the Countess were waiting at Højbro Plads. The Countess studied Suste Bonnén’s sculpture below them. Simonsen was watching with irritation for the head of DSIS, stressed about the time they were wasting. When he arrived shortly afterwards, he did not comment on the Countess’s presence. Instead he led them across the street at a forced march. Simonsen noted how he struck his heels hard against the asphalt as he walked, and thought that this must be a military habit. He tried to keep up and hoped that the walk would not be long.
A short distance down Højbro Plads, right across from Vilhelm Bissen’s statue of Bishop Absalon, the head of DSIS guided them to the right and through a gate. Here he cut across a small courtyard flanked by old warehouses, now renovated and converted to luxury apartments, and over to a main door where he quickly acquired access with a card and pin code. He turned on the light and asked them to sit down. There were paintings and lithographs all over the place: leaning up against the walls, on the central table that dominated the room, and in piles on the floor. The Countess guessed this was a storeroom for a gallery.
Still out of breath, Simonsen said, “Although I’m sure this is important, I must be back at HS very soon. And by the way, thanks for your support at the meeting.”
The head of DSIS smiled. That was seldom seen. The man was not socially inclined, and stories about his reserve were legion.
“It was nothing. I assume you are clear about what we got permission to do in there? If it becomes possible and necessary.”
“Yes, thanks. It had occurred to us both.”
The head of DSIS looked at the Countess as he spoke. She slowly put the unpleasantness into well-considered words.
“Helmer Hammer just gave us carte blanche to cut Andreas Falkenborg into little pieces to get him to tell us where he has concealed his two victims. So long as no one knows about it. A week ago he told us in great detail about Nils Svenningsen’s atomic letter, and how the top official at the time controversially gave permission without expressing himself directly. Well-from that we are meant to infer that if it is kept secret, we can in a literal sense put the thumbscrews on Falkenborg.”
“Exactly. And presumably you are also aware that that message was the only reason the meeting was held at all? The other idiots were just props to cover Helmer Hammer and his ministry if something goes wrong. Apart from Bertil Hampel-Koch, naturally. You might almost think that Helmer Hammer is somehow dependent on you, but that doesn’t concern me of course. The next question is obvious. Do we intend to make use of our… shall we call it, new tool… if it comes to that?”
Simonsen had expected the question and answered without reservation.
“If it’s the only way out, then clearly yes.”
Both men looked at the Countess. She asked the head of DSIS, “Tell me first how you come into the picture. Were you informed of this in advance?”
“Of course not. I’m in the picture because I was invited to the meeting. I’m simply reacting as was expected of me. Tell us then what your attitude is. Are you also prepared to bring out the rack if there are no other options?”
She held his gaze.
“If it can save Pauline’s and Jeanette Hvidt’s lives, then without the slightest hesitation. But under no circumstances as revenge or punishment.”
The head of DSIS clapped his hands.
“Then let’s consider the matter settled. Now we only lack how and when. Let’s take the latter first. I can have my people ready within the next two hours, and they will put an iron ring around him so he will soon be tracked down. I just don’t understand why this didn’t happen long ago. You know his appearance, you know his car, he is being searched for everywhere, and still he’s been roaming free for over twenty-four hours and apparently moving around the Copenhagen area at will. What in the world is happening here?”
The question was directed at Simonsen, who winced. Nevertheless he answered frankly.
“I don’t know, but we wonder too. Unfortunately his appearance is very ordinary, as they say, but he ought to be located today. We are beginning to think that perhaps he has acquired another vehicle or possibly uses public transport. Despite the fact that the psychologist is convinced of the opposite.”
“If you don’t find him soon, it won’t matter. If that’s not already the case.”
The Countess asked angrily, “Don’t you think we’re aware of that?”
“Yes, sorry, of course you are. So let’s presume you find him tomorrow, and I get him in the net… ”
He looked at Simonsen.
“… because I assume that this is still the agenda. You’re not going to bring him in, are you?”
“No, absolutely not. He would almost certainly refuse to talk, and then we’re checkmate. Especially after this evening, when my bosses had the legal principles of the realm emphasised to that degree.”