“Yes, the sweet old doctor showed me around. I’ve forgotten what he is called but he carried on a running explanation of everything while we were looking and it wasn’t so bad.”
“The sweet old doctor is Arthur Elvang, and all of us have gotten sick from time to time. You are definitely not the only one who has thrown up today but you’ll find that you toughen up over the years. I don’t know if that is good or bad.”
“It will definitely be more practical.”
She tried a smile but did not set much of a response, and the situation struck her as strange. She shifted uncomfortably.
He must have noticed her restlessness, or else he read her thoughts. At any rate he said, “There is a reason why we are sitting here—I’ll come to that later. Tell me how the janitor reacted when you found him.”
“It was actually a canine unit that tracked him down, or rather, the dog. It was down by the shed for the athletic equipment by the soccer field, and he claimed he had only just woken up. I don’t know … there’s not much more to say. He mostly ignored me, apart from saying that he would tell my teacher about the rain poncho. Arne was very thoughtful…”
“Yes, I know. That was nice of Arne. Go on about the janitor.”
“He said that about the rain poncho to needle me, but apart from that he was quite meek. We delivered him to the Countess. He was afraid of the dog so it was told to stay behind. Out in rain.”
“What was your impression of him?”
“My first impression was that he seemed pathetic. He reeks of beer and needs a bath. On the other hand … he is also … it’s hard to explain.”
“Take your time. I’m a patient man.”
She paused for reflection, and Simonsen studied the ceiling.
“He isn’t quite as much of a wreck as he seems, I’m sure of it. And he is somehow … present.”
“Highly conscious and aware?”
“Yes. No. Not in that sense. It’s just that it seems like he knows what’s going on the whole time, even when his answers are completely loopy.”
“You were present when he was being questioned?”
“Only in the beginning. It was Troulsen and the Countess who interrogated him and it was sort of an unspoken agreement that I would just listen, but I read the rest. The recording was sent to HS and after an hour we had a transcription. I can tell that we have reinforcements—I’ve never experienced anything quite like this.”
Simonsen noted that she had started referring to headquarters as “HS,” which was new for her. “HS” for “Head Square,” as they said in the Homicide Division. He replied, “I haven’t either. But you were only there at the beginning?”
“Yes, then they sent me away to find a TV and watched your press conference.”
“To keep an eye on me and see if I made a spectacle of myself?”
“It wasn’t my idea.”
She paused, then proceeded carefully. “They said that it wasn’t one of your areas of expertise. Press conferences, I mean.”
“I see. They said that? And what do you think? Did I make a fool of myself?”
Although he was difficult to read, she tried to be somewhat honest.
“No, I don’t think so. You didn’t really say much. It was mostly the others, but you clearly don’t care much for the platinum blonde from Dagbladet.”
“Her name is Anni Staal and she represents a regrettable turn in human evolution, but personally I have nothing against her except that she should be deported. Was it so obvious?”
“No, I don’t think so. Only to someone who knows you.”
“And you do?”
The exam-taking pupil was back in one stroke. But only for a fleeting visit. Simonsen took the edge off his words by patting her kindly on the knee.
“Enough of that. Tell me how you felt when Per Clausen teased you about your age.”
Berg was bewildered. “How I felt?”
“Yes, how you felt.”
“Is it important?”
“Maybe, maybe not. Try to answer.”
She closed her eyes to recall the episode and therefore didn’t see her boss nod appreciatively.
“It wasn’t mean-spirited. He was looking at me almost as if we were friends. He wasn’t being snotty about it, if you get me.”
“I understand. What else?”
“It was the only time he really noticed me. He teased me, but in a nice way, as if he cared about me.”
“And you like him?”
She opened her eyes.
“Yes, I do. Can you please tell me what this is all about?”
“Later, later. How old are you again?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Thank you. And now for my ceiling. How is your geometry?”