“Good morning, Allan. Give my regards to your brother.”
With his solid beech stick the Climber rammed the man in the skull. His body collapsed in a limp heap, while his head landed neatly on a bundle of newspapers. Blood flowed from his nose out over the latest news. The examiner took a step to the left and put all his strength behind the next blow. He was skilled with an ax and had no trouble striking his victim right on the neck. Ten seconds later he was back at his tree, where he paid no heed to the noise and started up his saw.
An earsplitting crash rent the morning asunder. The sound wave thundered down the street, bouncing off the building walls, shaking the earth, and rousing the town from its slumber.
The Climber smiled out into the dark and gave himself time to savor the sight of his handiwork before he disappeared.
CHAPTER 28
On the square in Allerslev where the Climber had felled his tree some five hours earlier, a police photographer picked up a newspaper. An ad had caught her gaze. The wind tugged in the paper and she smoothed down the sides to reveal the advertisement. She read, disgusted, but could not tear her eyes from the questions. An emergency technician came up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder.
“I think you should move back, little lady.”
The phrase pissed her off and she turned angrily, but discovered that she knew the man. He grinned.
“You’ll have to excuse me, but when I saw that it was you I couldn’t help myself. And you really are too close. There’s a great deal of power in this kind of tree, and unpredictable tensions. Haven’t you ever heard of trees felled by the wind? A heavy branch could squash you like a little bird and that would be unfortunate. One death is enough.”
He nodded in the direction of the trunk and she followed his gaze. The gigantic tree filled most of the square. Five people were busy working around the top of the tree, all men. They were working intently but gently with their small chainsaws in toward the crushed hot-dog stand. She moved back and let the newspaper flutter away in the wind. The entire area was awash in papers and one more or less wouldn’t matter. The EMT walked with her.
“You look tired,” he said.
“I am. I’ve worked all night and should be in bed. How long do you think it’ll be take before I can get started?”
“Ten minutes at most, then we’ll be in. Where were you working tonight?”
“At the Pathology Institute in Copenhagen. It’s really tough, pretty morbid, but superinteresting. I’m part of a team of facial surgeons, artists, pathologists, and computer experts. Some of them international. All of us under the direction of a single lovable, dictatorial old man who unfortunately doesn’t hold sleep in high regard. I only made it back to Odense at ten, and was called out here after that.”
“Is it the pedophiles from Bagsv?rd?”
“Yes. That is, not that I know for sure if they were pedophiles. It’s hard to tell when people are dead.”
A police technician called out to her. He pointed to a half-empty bottle of beer at the foot of the tree. She looked questioningly at the emergency medical technician and stepped forward only when he indicated with a nod that she could safely approach. She prepared her camera. The brand of beer was Elephant. She crouched in front of it and noticed the pungent stench of urine. She zoomed in on the bottle and got to work without allowing herself to be distracted by the smell. Only when she was finished did she wrinkle up her nose and tilt up her head to take a blessedly deep breath. At almost exactly the same time, there came a call that an entry had been created.
The same technician who had pointed out the bottle led her to the corpse. The man had been knocked to the ground and he lay on his stomach, his head turned toward her, nailed to the floor. He was impaled by a thick branch that entered at the base of his spine and exited through his belly, as if a vengeful arrow had been fired in heavenly fury. Even at first glance she started with surprise, which her colleague misread. He wrapped a reassuring arm around her. She pushed him away and stared in disbelief at the dead man. There was no doubt in her mind.
She had photographed his face earlier that evening.
CHAPTER 29