“He’s my lover.”
The answer came so quickly that neither Irene nor Peter was ready with a follow-up question. To Irene’s relief, Beate smiled faintly at them.
“You should see the looks on your faces. Mouths gaping open! I met Bill when Emil inherited the apartment. I was required to get in touch with him because he owns the building. Emil was so young when he moved in but there weren’t any big problems. The building is a very old cooperative with old-fashioned and complicated rules. Bill owns and manages the property, but the tenants own their apartments. The tenants pay a management fee. It’s that, plus the rent, that provides an income for Bill.”
“Like a private tenant-owner’s company,” Irene said.
“Yes. Bill manages several properties.”
Peter cleared his throat and announced that he wanted to ask a new question.
“You knew that Emil was. . gay. Do you know any of his partners? Has he had a steady boyfriend recently?”
Beate shook her head. “No. He never confided in me. I’ve had the feeling that he has been very lonely. That’s what the parent of a homosexual child is most afraid of, that they will be alone. If he had had a steady …friend and a secure relationship, he probably wouldn’t have been so restless.”
Maybe his preferences had been so particular that it hadn’t been easy to find a like-minded individual.
“Did you know the people Emil rented rooms to?” Peter asked.
“No. He handled that himself. I have the feeling that he only rented the rooms out now and then. Of course it provided some extra income but he had the income from Simon’s assets to live on. Thank God they are placed so that he can’t. . couldn’t spend the money. The income was paid to him each month.”
“I’ve heard that he was studying law,” said Irene.
“It didn’t go very well,” Beate said shortly.
“Did you know that Emil often hung out in a gay sex shop in Vesterbro that is owned by one Tom Tanaka?” Irene continued.
Beate looked incredibly tired. She tried in vain to wet her lips.
“I know that he was often seen at different gay hangouts. But I don’t know if he spent a lot of time in Tanaka’s store.”
It was clear that Beate didn’t have the energy to talk anymore. Peter could see it as well.
“Take care of yourself, Chief. We can talk again when you are feeling a bit stronger.”
“Thanks. I’ll call if I come up with anything. My brain almost feels paralyzed right now,” she whispered.
Irene felt deep sympathy for Beate. The image of Isabell’s dead face floated past for one second. A strong pang of guilt hit her. In a sense, she was an accessory. The murderer was working close to her; involving her was his intention. Catching the murderer was something she owed his violated victims. Now it had become personal.
“SHE DIDN’T seem to know anything about his sex life,” said Irene.
“Maybe it’s just as well,” said Peter.
They sat in the comfortable BMW and zoomed at an even speed toward downtown Copenhagen. Peter skillfully maneuvered the car into the parking spot in front of the Hotel Alex.
“Are you going to eat now?” he asked.
Irene saw that it was only five thirty. “In an hour. Then I’ll go across the street; the food is good there,” she said.
“I’ll pick you up here.”
“You shouldn’t feel like you need to. . ”
“I don’t feel like fixing dinner tonight. I had already planned on going out to eat.”
He stepped out of the car and quickly went around and opened the passenger-side door for her. Irene thought it was a bit embarrassing. She decided that it must be because she wasn’t used to it.
ALONG hot shower followed by a short cold one raised her spirits. She relaxed, wrapped in a clean bath towel, a smaller towel wound around her wet hair. For a while she sat in the only recliner in the room with her fingers clasping the bottle she had just taken from the minibar. She slowly drank the cold Hof.
Her brain felt sluggish and overwhelmed by the events of the past few days. The murderer must have shown up at some point. Where? When? She couldn’t locate him among all of her unsorted impressions. But she knew that he had been close by. He had been in Copenhagen a week ago, on her previous visit. Was he still here? Irene felt convinced that he wasn’t. It was high time for her to return to Göteborg.
She longed intensely for Krister and the girls. She went to get her cell phone and called home.
Just before six thirty, Irene went downstairs to the lobby. They had put up the “Jell-O shot evening” sign in the bar again. She saw Jonny at a table in the bar together with two men and a woman. He lifted a small glass filled with pink Jell-O.
She didn’t bother going into the bar. She was content. There would be no discussion about who was going to drive tomorrow. She exited through the revolving door and waved at Peter, who was walking toward her.
They went back to Restaurant Vesuvius. The head waiter was a gray-haired older man who showed them to a table for two in the smaller room with the movie-star photos on the walls. Two younger women sitting at a table by the window looked at Irene with undisguised jealousy and Irene became keenly aware of the fact that she was in the company of a very attractive man. When Peter stood near her in order to pull out her chair, she caught a whiff of his good aftershave. Light, masculine, and sensual. Could be Armani.
He pushed her chair in and when he leaned forward she could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck.
“It’s been a busy day for you. Now you have to relax,” he said. He smiled encouragingly at her when he seated himself across from her. “Do you want wine?”
She hesitated for half a second and then common sense took over.
“No, thanks. I have to drive tomorrow. Jonny is already in fine form in the bar. He’s drinking Jell-O shots with a group of people. Something tells me it will be a quiet trip home.”
Peter laughed. His eyes were as blue as the short-sleeved Sand shirt he was wearing. The top two buttons were open, revealing blond hair. A thin gold chain glimmered against his golden brown skin. He had hung his light-colored linen jacket on the back of his chair.
She still had on her dark blue linen pants, which at this point were wrinkled. She had managed to press them a bit with the iron in the hotel room, but they weren’t pristine. Her linen jacket was still in good shape. She wore a new silver-gray satin top under the jacket. Her feet in blue suede sandals were bare.
“Beer then. What would you like to eat?”
“Something spicy that will make my spirits soar.”
“How does gamberoni sole mio sound? Giant shrimp in a lobster sauce with cayenne pepper.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Good. I’ll have that as well. A drink before dinner?”
She hesitated. “OK, one. A dry martini, please.”
The drinks came to the table very quickly. Peter and Irene raised their wide glasses in order to toast. Their eyes met and Irene felt her cheeks become hot. Damn the man for being so handsome!
A chill suddenly ran down her spine. Her brain became crystal clear. The police officer.
Mechanically, she took a sip of her drink as she thought feverishly. She put down her glass and said in as natural a tone of voice as she could muster, “You never had a chance to tell me where you got your tan.” She smiled encouragingly but didn’t get a response.
He looked into his glass. Finally he said, “I wasn’t planning on telling you. I was in South Africa.”
“How exciting! How long were you there?”
“Three weeks. A tour and safari.”