Simonsen introduced a sour note into her happiness. “If he doesn’t fit in, he’ll be out the door before you can say ‘fatal error.’ Now tell us about Per Clausen.”
“Per Monrad Clausen was born in 1941 in Copenhagen,” the Countess began. “His parents were Anette and Hans Clausen. His father was a carpenter and later a master carpenter, his mother a housewife. In 1947 the family moved from Bispebjerg to Charlottenlund, where Per Clausen grew up, and in 1948 his little sister, Alma Clausen, was born. The family had no other children. Clausen did very well in school and his father was convinced to let him go on in his studies. He passed his university entrance in 1959, the same year that his father was made master carpenter. The family finances were in good order. After his examinations, Clausen worked in his father’s workshop for one year and then matriculated at the Statistical Institute at Copenhagen University in 1960. The following year, in 1961, he was given a scholarship spot at the Valkendorf College in downtown Copenhagen, which is only afforded the most gifted students. Clausen graduated in 1965 with high honors, tending toward the exceptional. He received the university’s gold medal for his thesis on spatial statistics and the distribution of prime numbers.”
While she was speaking, Pedersen supported her presentation with images or bullet points on the computer screen. The Countess took a sip of water, then went on.
“From 1965 to 1969, Clausen worked at Boston University in Massachusetts, but in the fall of 1969 he returned to Denmark, where he was employed by the insurance company Union. He married Klara Persson in 1973. She is Swedish. She became a Danish citizen at the time of her marriage and was able to work as a dental hygienist. The couple settled in Bagsv?rd at Clausen’s current address and in 1977 they had their only child, Helene Clausen. Clausen’s salary increased steeply and was soon among the top fifteen percent in the nation. In 1987 the marriage collapsed because Klara Clausen fell in love with a childhood sweetheart. The divorce was difficult and characterized by bitterness. Mother and daughter moved to Sweden the same year; Clausen remained in Bagsv?rd. In 1988 his parents died and Clausen and his sister inherited almost nine hundred thousand kroner each. The following year he become embroiled in a controversy with the tax authorities as he donated half a million dollars to charitable organizations and wanted to be able to deduct the entire donation. In 1992 he was ticketed for speeding on the Hiller?d motorway. In January 1993 Helene Clausen moved back in with her father and starteded ninth grade at the Traneh?j secondary school in Gentofte, and half a year later she started the Auregaard grammar school, also in Gentofte. In the summer of 1994, Helene Clausen drowned in a swimming accident at Bellevue Beach in Klampenborg.”
“Where is she buried?” Simonsen interrupted.
The Countess glanced at Pedersen, who shook his head, whereafter she shrugged apologetically.
“At this time Clausen was fifty-three years old, and after the death of his daughter his personal life and his social standing both took a turn for the worse. In 1996 he changed jobs from chief statistician at Union to janitor at the Langeb?k School. The job came through some assistance from his boss at Union, who knew the school superintendent in Gladsaxe. Clausen was a problem by this time: he drank copiously, behaved badly, and stopped taking care of his personal hygiene. However, despite misgivings, he managed this job better than expected, even if he ended up taking the occasional sick day and was occasionally indisposed due to alcohol abuse. He is generally well liked, but keeps to himself most of the time and never speaks of his private life. The last few years he appears to have gained a reasonable control over his alcohol consumption. Half a year ago he told the headmaster that he suffered from colon cancer and was given time off to receive sixteen doses of treatment at the Gentofte Hospital. He was often gone for one or two times per day but the hospital has no record of this treatment.”
Simonsen got up and stood for a long time staring at the whiteboard as if he wanted to draw out additional details from the Countess’s keywords. No one said anything; only the soft hum of the computer’s internal fan could be heard. Finally their boss came back to life.
“I thought we were the only ones he was lying to. Where is he now?”
“At the pub. Surprise, surprise,” Troulsen answered.
“Do we have any officers there?”
“Two inside, and two outside. Stop worrying, Simon.”
Simonsen shifted his thoughts from the janitor and said, “One more thing. I’ve talked Kasper Planck into helping us with this thing.”
He looked around. All four of them nodded and no one made any further comment.
*
The Countess drove Simonsen and Troulsen home. She listened to the latest news update, her boss dozed, and Troulsen talked about pizzas. The two others let him talk.