“Several times. The hag usually offers me employment. On the other hand that’s the only thing she likes to talk about.”
The slightly dirty grin this received from the men did not go unobserved by Pauline. She snapped, “And she’s like that with everyone. It’s one of the many ways in which she harasses people.”
“Will it help if you talk to her, do you think? Or would a strange face be better?”
“I don’t think it matters, but I would really prefer not to.”
Simonsen sent his troops out. Malte was released for further clothes-shopping with his girlfriend, Troulsen got the interview with Agnete Bahn, and Pauline Berg covered the remaining maids. To start with they would be contacted by phone in order to get a general picture of life in Andreas Falkenborg’s childhood home. Simonsen himself went to the Foreign Ministry, and what he had to do there he did not say.
By later that afternoon a picture had started to form of the environment in which Andreas Falkenborg had grown up. The summary took place in Simonsen’s office, though he was the last to arrive. He turned up ten minutes after the scheduled time, drenched after a summer shower but in a sunny mood.
“It seems that the American Army has gotten a move on, as they say. My friend at Slotsholmen has pulled a few strings, and the Americans have promised to expedite the investigation into the helicopter trip to DYE-5. It’s far from certain that this will result in anything, but we’ll get an official letter detailing the usual procedure with helicopter overflights at that date. That should be helpful in court.”
While he was speaking, he found a package of hand towels in a cupboard and started drying his trousers by pressing the towels against his thighs one after another, and then tossing them in the wastebasket when they could absorb no more water.
“Now, Poul, I’m anxious to hear how things went with you.”
Troulsen shook his head phlegmatically.
“Pauline was right, she was completely impossible. Spotted right away that I was from the police, and before I even introduced myself had fired a whole arsenal of swear words at my head. I finally had to shout to have any chance at all of telling her why I was there, but it made no impression on her. She is truly not a person with a well-developed sense of civic duty.”
“What did she say specifically?”
“That I could run and shit and fart back home to my sod house in Jutland. I’ve been living here over thirty years, so her ear for dialect must be good.”
“That was all?”
“Well, then I gave her my card, in case she changed her mind.”
Pauline Berg broke in.
“Give me one guess . . . she tore it to pieces and then gave you hers and offered you employment?”
“Yes, exactly as you say. She was very impudent.”
Simonsen asked, “So you received no impression of whether she had anything to tell us about her time with the Falkenborg family?”
“Yes, I did actually, because right before she slammed the door in my face, she made us an offer. If the tax authorities repay her the thirty-six thousand kroner they unfairly robbed her of four years ago, she had salacious things to tell about Andreas Falkenborg and his pestilential family. Something along those lines—it’s not word for word, but almost.”
Simonsen thought about it. The towels were used up, and he had folded the plastic packaging into a roll that now resembled a conductor’s baton, as if orchestrating his thoughts. The tempo was andante. After a while he asked, “Did you see whether or not she was open for business?”
“I saw a few scattered customers, but it wasn’t rush hour. She lives on the second floor besides, with a separate entrance, so I didn’t have the opportunity to inspect the establishment.”
Simonsen turned to Pauline Berg.
“And you say she’s very money-driven?”
“Greedy is an understatement.”
“Okay, we’ll probably crack down on her, but that will have to wait until Monday.”
Berg remained doubtful.
“I’m ready to bet a bottle of good red wine that you can’t.”
Her boss gestured towards the photographs of the three dead women displayed on his bulletin board.
“I don’t think they would like it if we took things easy.”
Pauline felt humiliated and instantly apologised. She missed the guiding presence of the Countess, who should have arrived long ago.