Pedersen sounded sceptical. It was hard to imagine a pretty young woman isolated for six months with eleven men.
“No, no, that wouldn’t have worked at all. Out here there were only men, but in the American Army there are many crazy rules—and here I’m quoting direct from the colonel himself, who knows what he’s talking about. One of these rules, which was strictly observed, was that once a year all medical equipment on a base should be inspected by a doctor or nurse. So on the thirteenth of September 1983 Maryann Nygaard came out here on such a medical inspection. The work itself was done in a couple of hours and required no contact but when it was time to leave no one could find her. She was missing and remained so, no matter where the men searched. Finally the helicopter had to fly back without her.”
Simonsen interrupted. “Do you know the time of day? I mean, was it dark?”
“No, I don’t know the time, but I expect there will be a comprehensive report available once we get back to Nuuk. I have people working on this there, and they are doing the same in Thule. The Americans have promised me a list of all the men who were at DYE-5 at the time of her disappearance.”
“I would like a copy of that list.”
“You’ll get it. There’s not much more to tell you now. The next day the base sent a large task force out to search the area, but in vain. She could have been buried a hundred metres from the DYE without them having a chance of discovering her. I’m assuming that at some point she was officially declared dead, but I haven’t been able to get that confirmed.”
“Do you know exactly where she is lying in relation to the station?”
“No, unfortunately not. We searched for a couple of hours yesterday to see whether we could find traces of it, but were unsuccessful. The Americans can be amazingly efficient so it’s not at all certain that we will find the exact location, but I intend to try again tomorrow with more people—if that’s acceptable to you?”
The request was directed at Simonsen.
“Of course. And I should add that the Nuuk police have done good work here. I’m impressed by all you’ve found out in such a short time.”
Trond Egede took the compliment with a smile. Then he peered down at the girl and said seriously, “I’ve seen a few murders in my time, but this one gives me the creeps and makes me afraid. I assume you feel the same way. That was probably why you stepped aside earlier?”
Simonsen answered heavily, “No, unfortunately it was something else that made me do that. But this is probably the right time to deal with the unpleasant part. Arne, you’re the youngest, do you mind crawling down to her? I want you to investigate her nails and tell us how they’re clipped.”
The two others instinctively looked down at the woman’s hands, but from where they were standing they could not make anything out. The Greenlander and Simonsen held Pedersen by the arms and took his weight so he could slide carefully down into the grave. He put his head alongside the dead woman’s thigh—first one side, then the other—before he reported.
“She hasn’t cut them herself . . . no woman would do it like that. It looks like it was done with shears, jerkily and fast. How could you know? Oh, no . . . ”
The Greenlandic constable had understood too. He stared gloomily down at the sight before him as Simonsen answered: “Because, unfortunately, this is the second time I’ve seen a young woman treated in this barbarous way.”
CHAPTER 3
The skies over Copenhagen were unsettled. Brief, torrential summer showers alternated with sunshine, which quickly dried the streets and enticed people outside—until the next shower drove them back again. The holiday season was ending, but there were still tourists in the city, easy to spot with their ambling gait and slightly too casual attire.