She repeated her question and brought him back to reality: “Simon, what have you done about this?”
“Anna Mia is with her mother in Bornholm. Don’t you have any licorice? You usually have those Gojler. Perhaps you could give me some. Or water.”
“How long will she be there?”
“Who?”
“How long will Anna Mia be in Bornholm?”
“Until Friday, I think.”
“Have you talked to her?”
“No.”
“Or with anyone else?”
“Only with you.”
They stood there awhile longer until Simonsen’s phone rang and he reluctantly broke away. The Countess sat down across from him and listened approvingly as he delayed his meeting by fifteen minutes, without apology or excuses.
He pointed to the envelope she was holding and asked, “What would you do?”
She answered casually, as if the question were not of great significance; “Only the regular precautions, Simon.”
“I can do those myself.”
“No, I’ll do it. But there’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s clear the letter was only sent to unnerve you.”
“Yes, isn’t it? I have also received all kinds of threats.”
“Of course. You shouldn’t put any stock in those.”
“I think it’s because I took Pauline with me to his interrogation. That is, Per Clausen’s, you know, in relation to his daughter. So it may be a kind of revenge for that. Well, you know what I mean.”
“Yes, of course I do. But now you should get along to your briefing and stop worrying about this anymore.”
Simonsen nodded and the Countess hurried out of the office with the envelope. When the door closed behind her, he at once felt sleepy.
Chapter 61
Anita Dahlgren was no virtuoso in the kitchen so she kept to what was tried and true. An appetizer of shrimp cocktail with garlic bread, for the main course filet mignon accompanied by baked potatoes and parsley butter, served with a pitcher of béarnaise sauce as well as a mixed salad with feta and olives. Dessert was simply vanilla ice cream. Even she could not go wrong with this menu.
Simonsen praised her for at least the fifth time: “This tastes fantastic.”
Pedersen added smilingly, “Yes, well done, Planck.”
Planck ignored this comment and said seriously, “I haven’t just invited you for the pleasant company. I’ve been thinking about an idea that I want us to talk about, but first you should know that I won’t be coming in to HS anymore. I haven’t been doing so well as of late and I don’t have the strength to visit you anymore.”
The atmosphere deflated somewhat. The old man looked around briefly at everyone in the room.
“Don’t look so glum. I never planned to get a hundred years old and don’t you dare start crying. Anita, dry your eyes-I’m not going to pop off tomorrow.”
“Sorry, I’ll stop. I’ve just grown so fond of you.”
“As I have of you, my girl. Let’s clear the table together while these two gifted gentlemen ponder a little riddle. Our friend with the chainsaw-what was it we were calling him, Simon?”
Simonsen did not reply immediately. He was looking at Anita. Planck noticed this.
“Tonight Anita is part of the discussion.”
“Hmm, if you say so. We’re calling him Climber.”
“Climber. An excellent name. What is this Climber’s greatest weakness?”
The old man and the young woman stood up and went out to the kitchen together. Anita started to wash the dishes and Planck passed her a new stack from time to time. After a while he said, “Do you also want to guess?”
“No, but I really want to hear the answer.”
“The answer is his image. It’s very banal of course, but also very important.”
She reflected on this and said, “Yes, that’s true. The part about his image. Do you think that they’ll get it?”
“Simon will, Arne won’t. He doesn’t think simply enough. And he expends his mental energy on things that he can’t control. This whole evening he hasn’t talked about anything other than that nurse, so he won’t come up with it.”
“You’re always so sure of yourself.”
“Wait and see.”
Planck was right. They came back into the room with coffee and cups, and while Anita was still passing them around, Pedersen threw in the towel.
“I’m coming up with nothing. I want to say his childhood but in part I don’t really know if that’s true and if it is, it hasn’t shown itself as a weakness so far, that is, in relation to what he has done. Then I was thinking that we believe that he knew the Ditlevsen brothers back when they lived in Sjælland, but that also isn’t a weakness, or is that the connection that you had in mind?”
His contribution was kindly overlooked. Everyone was looking at Simonsen, who was smiling and taking his own sweet time. He wasn’t experiencing his usual sweat attack after dinner and he had already answered Planck’s question, so what more could an overweight, slightly arrogant former homicide chief ask for? He said, cheerfully, “You mean his statement to the media, don’t you?”
“Bingo, Simon, that’s exactly what I mean. And what happens if we threaten him with a couple of solid blows to his public image? Don’t worry about what exactly, just assume that we can. What would happen then?”
Pedersen improved his own image somewhat by reacting quickly: “He would answer back as well as he could; respond to us even, to the extent that is possible.”
Simonsen nodded in agreement. “Someone has at least made some strenuous attempts to hammer unpleasant impressions and images into people’s minds. And very successfully, no less.”
Anita joined in: “So in the interview with the hardliner from the Folketingets Retsudvalg who oh, was busy with the posters of Thor Gran as a background?” She glanced around to get the others’ reactions. They shook their heads, and she explained, “The posters are simply close-ups of Thor Gran from the minivan, you know, where he talks about selecting the numbered delicacies, and underneath it just says, ‘No, you won’t!’ so the message is clear. But if I was going to pick one simple thing in the propaganda circulating in the media, one simple thing that really has grabbed the attention of Danes, then it’s Thor Gran when he’s… selecting the children. The posters were shown for a minute, maybe one and a half, and the interview was probably just an excuse to show it. It’s like the subliminal messaging with the image of the Coke bottle that was edited into movies in the 1950s to increase sales of Coca-Cola in the intermissions; someone manipulates our subconscious and no one wants to step in.”
Simonsen shot down her last story: “It’s called subliminal perception and it is basically a myth. The concept has never been proven and no one has ever manipulated a film in that way. But it’s a good story.”
“As opposed to the Thor Gran poster,” Pedersen added sarcastically. “That’s what you gain from hearing that story.”
Simonsen immediately stiffened. For a second or two he closed his eyes, then he took a bag of licorice from his inside pocket, helped himself, and offered it to the others. No one wanted any.
Pedersen said, “You usually hate this stuff. What happened?”
“Nothing.”
He still didn’t like licorice, but Piratos licorice was an excellent antidote to a sour mouth. What could he say? That the photos of Anna Mia that he had been sent occasionally invaded his mouth? Who would understand it when he didn’t even himself? And what business was it of the others? It had no meaning, he had it under control. That was exactly what he had-control. As soon as he got his fingers on those assholes who had threatened his daughter he would show them that he had it under control. Psychopathic bastards.
Planck managed to get the conversation back on track. “Now listen up and stop wasting time on that nonsense. I have an idea for how to tell an alternative truth but I’ll need help from all three of you. It will also demand a small sacrifice from each. Do you want to hear it?”