Simonsen asked carefully, “Where did he get the scissors from? His pocket?”
“No, he had a knapsack on, a small one, that was where he got the scissors from while he was talking to me for the first time. It was in such a strange way. He was saying ‘she’ the whole time instead of ‘you’, and behaved as if the whole thing was an act. And then that disgusting mask he was wearing. When he looked at me, it was as if he was spewing out all the evil in the world.”
“What did he say?”
“She’s going to have her long claws clipped now, she’s going to have her long claws clipped now. That’s how he said it at first, and then in a completely different voice to instruct me, Then she shows her nails. But he did not speak harshly, more like we were playing a game or something like that. I didn’t understand at first, but then he simply repeated it. Then she will show her nails, then she will show her nails. At last I held my fingers up to him, and although my nails were quite short, he pretended that he was cutting them. That was with the first voice again. Uha da da, they need to be clipped. Clip, clip. Uha clip, clip. Look now, that was good indeed that we got the scissors out. Clip, clip. He spoke in that style, while he clipped in the air in front of each finger with his scissors.”
Jeanette Hvidt hissed in English, “Fucking weirdo.”
“What was that, dear? What did you say?”
“That he was crazy, Grandma.”
“Yes, he was, and if I hadn’t been so lucky, he would have killed me too. I don’t doubt that for a moment. But while we were sitting there some mopeds came driving up towards the shore. It was the young hands from the farms, tearing around for fun. Out and in between the dunes and racing by the water’s edge. Even though they were pretty far away, they scared him and he ran away. To top it off he asked me to wait. Can you believe that! I wriggled my legs free from the tape and ran for all I was worth in the opposite direction. I hid under an old rowing boat that was rotting on the shore. Then later, when the mopeds were gone, he searched for me. That’s almost what I remember best: him calling and the flashlight shining around in all directions. Where are you hiding? She has to come out for him. He wants her. Again and again. Sometimes close by, other times farther away, so the sea distorted his words. But I stayed where I was.”
Hans Svendsen said quietly, “I think it was good you did that, Rikke. I think it was really good.”
CHAPTER 18
After the conversation with Rikke Barbara Hvidt, Konrad Simonsen and Arne Pedersen left Hundested Harbour together. By chance they had parked in the same car park, which gave them a few minutes to discuss the day’s events with each other, an opportunity that Simonsen did not take, however. When he was summoned from Copenhagen on short notice he’d forgotten to bring along the lunch the Countess had made for him that morning, and now he was hungry. He steadfastly ignored a hot-dog cart whose enticing aroma of grilled sausages seemed to pursue him long after they had passed it. Crossly he said, “I think we both need to let this information settle a little. I do anyway. Will you write a report? Preferably before you go home, if you can manage it.”
“No problem.”
“Excellent. When you’re finished, email a copy to our new psychologist. With one of those red exclamation points, if you know how to set them. I’ve never been able to work it out.”
“I’ll call and tell him that the information is important. That way he can’t miss it.”
Simonsen stopped by a bench and sat down. He pulled out his cigarettes and lit one. It was his third of the day, and it tasted like soap. Pedersen sat down beside him without commenting on his weakness. Shortly after he said, to make conversation, “How is Kasper Planck really doing?”
“Poorly.”
“He’s in a nursing home, I hear.”
“That was several months ago. The man is dying, it’s only a matter of time.”
Simonsen inhaled with pleasure and noticed how, despite the taste, smoking helped his mood. He added, “I was out there last week. He barely recognised me, and for the few minutes when he was clear about it we mostly talked about whether anyone would remember him when he’s gone.”
“Hmm, doesn’t sound much fun, but it’s good that you visit him.”
“I’m not sure it makes any difference to him, and the worst thing is the nurse told me he may be lying there like that for a while. Just how long she wouldn’t say.”