The Girl in the Ice

“She disappeared suddenly, it was in 1992 or maybe 1993, but she didn’t take anything with her that belonged to me, so we thought she had gone back to Finland.”


“You didn’t search for her?”

“No, not particularly. She was, as I said, not . . . trusted.”

“How did she travel for you? I mean car, train, bus, airplane?”

“Train, and I will also give you the name of a town. It’s so long ago that it lacks significance. I won’t say anything more.”

“And that town is?”

“H?ssleholm.”

“Where did she live when she was in Denmark?”

“No idea, maybe with a friend, maybe at one of my hotels. I’ll find that out.”

Simonsen gave the witness his card.

“That sounds good. Call me about the name, and whatever else you find. It’s urgent.”

“Within half an hour. Was it that psychopath you have in custody who took her?”

“That I don’t know.”

With small circular movements the man massaged his gigantic nose, a bad habit that had earned him one of his nicknames among the police. Then he said, “I don’t like that he’s taken one of mine, I really do not like that. He almost deserves a taste of his own medicine . . . maybe after a little fun with a blowtorch.”

“He deserves to be in prison, and so do you.”

“Then I hope you’re more effective at containing him than you were with me. Is there anything else?”

“No, but thanks for the help.”

The man closed the door without another word.





CHAPTER 36


Misfortunes were still piling up on Wednesday. Arne Pedersen and Pauline Berg informed Konrad Simonsen about the latest events when their boss returned to Police Headquarters. Berg went through a short but unpleasant list.

“The gangster king you just visited called. You weren’t here, of course, so he was transferred to me. Liz Suenson’s real name is Elizabeth Juutilainen, and we’ve retrieved a mug shot from 1988, when she was arrested for drug smuggling in Tampere. She was twenty-five years old in 1992, when she disappeared. The Finns are sending more data as soon as possible, but unfortunately she fits Falkenborg’s female preferences, so it is quite probable that she is his fourth victim.”

Simonsen muttered, “Yes, that doesn’t surprise me. What else do you have?”

“A message from Anna Mia, your daughter that is—”

“And?”

“You can’t make connection with her until tomorrow. It had something to do with cell-phone coverage and atmospheric disturbances in the region.”

The information annoyed Simonsen more than he cared to admit. He would have enjoyed talking with Anna Mia as a brief respite from what was turning into a lousy day. He tried only half-heartedly to conceal his disappointment as he asked grumpily, “How can she call and say that she can’t call? That doesn’t make sense.”

Pauline Berg thought quickly.

“Maybe the ship was just about to sail into the atmospheric disturbances. I’ve never been in the Caribbean, so what do I know?”

Pedersen interjected drily, “Don’t shoot the messenger, Simon.”

“Yes, obviously. But did she say anything else?”

Berg looked briefly at Pedersen, who behind his chief’s back rolled a finger around in front of his mouth as a sign that here a slightly creative interpretation was permissible. She took the hint.

“Well, she said she was doing well, but also that she missed you a lot and was looking forward to coming home. And she sends greetings.”

Simonsen lapped up the words, and Pauline Berg could continue with her list.

“Yes, then there’s one more thing. That is, maybe you, Arne, should . . . ”

Pedersen took the opening.

“You have been given a public rebuke by the police commissioner. She was at a press conference ten minutes ago and denounced the department’s methods concerning your instructions to Poul.”

In glaring contrast to what his subordinates had expected, Simonsen’s mood visibly brightened.

“Really! And what else happened? What about Poul?”

“Nothing. She made a point of saying that he can’t be reproached. It was you and you alone who bore responsibility—you’ve been over-eager, she maintained—and she herself, of course, as your immediate superior. She will summon you for a serious talk, as soon as this investigation is over, and the leadership in general will not comment on the eavesdropping case. But she emphasised that if anyone was interested in hearing more detailed information on the matter, they could attend your press conference at five o’clock.”

“Was that all? What about further questions from the press?”

Berg said, “No questions. After she read the statement she left, arrogant as an ice queen. If you ask me, I think it’s really unfair of her to treat you like that.”

“Sticks and stones. It doesn’t bother me.”

Pedersen stared at his boss in surprise.

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