The Girl in the Ice

The Countess also sat a while and processed the new information in her mind. Then she asked carefully, “And the Greenlandic police have confirmed that the location of the radar station is wrong?”


“Yes, they have. Trond Egede is the name of our contact. He was the one who was with Arne and Simon on the ice. He called five minutes ago and confirmed it. He also apologised. It annoyed him no end that he hadn’t discovered the error himself. Yes, he said that, it’s a direct quote.”

The Countess nodded, as if she echoed Trond Egede’s annoyance. Then her face lit up in a big smile and she said, “Nice work, Pauline. We could have wasted days on that. You’ve earned your pay today.”

Pauline was blushing with pride.

“Thanks. Arne promised me that I can go out and talk to a witness who knew those DYEs. Although he wasn’t too excited about it.”

“Phooey, just get going. But that witness list of DYE employees—it’s not a good idea for you to visit any of the men alone. Or . . . no, I really want to be clear about this. Helicopter pilot or not, you stay away from them. Is that agreed?”

“It’s agreed, I’ll stay away from them. Arne said that too.”

“Good, because it’s only sensible. You can take my car if you want.”

The Countess watched Pauline leave, feeling a stab of envy. Not because her colleague had discovered something that no one else had, the Countess did not begrudge her that, but at her bubbling enthusiasm and the pride she took in standing out. This was part of being young and would fade in time, even for Pauline Berg. Sooner or later you admitted to yourself that the current, crucial case was not so crucial after all. A new one was always waiting around the corner, and another one, and the next. That insight gradually made investigation a job more than a lifestyle. In the long run you became more efficient but decidedly less enthusiastic. The excitement of the job, which could only be experienced by those who were still green, was gone for good. The Countess thought it was probably the same in many other occupations.

Then suddenly she had an unpleasant recollection of someone rather like Pauline. The Countess’s ex-husband’s new secretary had also been ambitious in her time. Erna with the Elbows, that’s what they’d called her in the beginning, the two of them, both the Countess and her husband. She corrected herself: ex-husband. And noted at the same time the hateful vacuum in the pit of her stomach, which she had felt every single day for over a year after the divorce, and which still yawned inside her from time to time. With undiminished force, too.

Now Erna had just had her second child with the Countess’s husband . . . her ex-husband. They’d kept the first one secret for months, until the Countess had her suspicions and hired a private detective to follow him. The break-up was irreconcilable and hard on her. So now I’m free to wake up every morning with a woman whose only goal for the day is to be perfect. Those were his parting words, before he betrayed the Countess totally and disappeared from her life. To his new family.

She sighed and tried to dismiss the negative thoughts, knowing full well that they would last for at least a couple of days and in her paranoia she would live in fear of running into the pair of them by chance on the street. It was usually like that. On the other hand it helped a little to think that she still received photographs every month or so from the private detective. Just to help her keep up a little and at the same time feel in control. He had orders to take his photos openly, so as to cause maximum embarrassment to them. It helped to think about that too.





CHAPTER 6


On a street in central Roskilde Pauline Berg tracked down the nurse, who was sitting in a small red car belonging to the municipal home health care service, filling out a form. The woman was only in her fifties, but despite her attractive, blue-grey uniform and well cared-for appearance, she looked used up. Her face was tired and her movements seemed grudging, as if she was irritated with herself. After briefly hearing about Pauline Berg’s inquiry and suspiciously inspecting her ID, she allowed the young woman to get in on the passenger side. The nurse continued her paperwork without seeming to notice that she had company. When she was finished and had carefully put the results in two different folders, she glanced at her watch tensely and said, “I’m already eight minutes behind schedule. My next citizen is two streets away, but the one after that is in Viby so there we’ll have some time. If you don’t mind waiting, that is.”

“I don’t mind waiting.”

The woman started the car and expertly pulled out into the afternoon traffic. Then she said, for no reason, “Citizen, yes. That's what we call them, and we use that term so much it’s completely natural to us, but I’m very aware that in other people’s ears it sounds like something from the French Revolution. And you can stay in the car. It’s against the rules, but you have to be able to trust the police.”

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