Konrad Simonsen’s contribution to the events of Sunday morning were exactly zero. He slept. Given the pace of his work the preceding week, no one could have held this against him, especially when one took his age into account. Which is exactly what his daughter, Anna Mia, did when she stole into his bedroom and turned off his alarm clock, which was set to six. The moon was shining outside the window and its reflected light fell on his face. She sat for a long time on the edge of his bed and looked at him. His breathing was alarming, heavy and panting. Occasionally he gasped for air. The sounds pained her and she promised herself she would take his diabetes treatment in hand. And his smoking. After a while he fell into a more peaceful sleep. She stroked him gently on the cheek and smoothed his pillow before she left.
It was past ten o’clock when the groggy and confused chief inspector walked into his living room, where his daughter and former boss were patiently waiting with breakfast.
The old man and the young woman had divvied up the roles between them beforehand and Anna Mia began, before her father had really even opened his eyes.
“A lot has happened this morning but we have banded against you and let you sleep. That is to say, Kasper and that Hammer.”
She handed him a cup of coffee and lit his cigarette. The latter had never happened before. Simonsen inhaled greedily while Kasper Planck carried on.
“The victims are now all identified with a one-hundred-percent degree of confidence. There has even been a press conference, but first read here.”
Anna Mia laid the Dagbladet in front of him. She had been sitting on it. Simonsen stared, openmouthed. They gave him some time to read, knowing what his first question would be, knowing he was not yet fully awake.
“Why didn’t I know anything about this?”
Kasper Planck explained without mincing his words, “You have been in temporary quarantine. Considered likely to make a fool of yourself; in short—you’ve been passed over, put in the corner.”
“That’s starting to become clear to me. What else?”
“Helmer Hammer called me this morning, or rather, it was still nighttime, and we agreed that it would be best for all parties concerned if you could concentrate on rest. You are going to have a long day. Then I called Anna Mia and was lucky enough to find her here. You went to the movies last night, I understand. I hope it was a good one.”
Anna Mia was the one who answered.
“Yes, it was. I cried, and Dad slept.”
Simonsen grunted and stood up.
“I want to see these videos.”
“Shouldn’t you eat something first, Dad? We’ve bought some poppy-seed buns for you.”
But he refused.
When he returned to the table he did not comment on what he had seen, but the gravity of the contents was plain to read on his face. They ate, while Kasper Planck reiterated the events of the morning in greater detail. Simonsen listened without interrupting, and both his guests noted with relief that he smiled when he learned that Anna Mia had interfered with his alarm clock. They had not expected this reaction. When they heard him whistling in his bath a little while later they declared success and drank a toast with coffee. Anna Mia cleared the table. Kasper Planck sat down at the computer and played the videos one more time. He wasn’t much use at cleaning up.
Anna Mia said goodbye when Simonsen returned fully clothed. Both men got a kiss and Kasper Planck insisted on giving her a coupon for a taxi from a booklet he had picked up at the accounting department at police headquarters because in his opinion the usual patrol cars did not live up to the standards of old.
When the two men were alone, they sat back down at the table.
“You’ve taken this very well, Simon.”
Simonsen did not reply at once. He looked out the window, upward, as far as the eye could see. A dark gray mass from the west was gobbling up the blue sky on top of him. It would rain soon. He thought that for the first time in a long while he was looking forward to the workday. Sleep was a good thing. Then he focused on his uninvited guest.
“I like Helmer Hammer,” he said, “but you two have not exactly given me many chances. As far as I can figure out, you also have several hours’ head start on me.”
“Yes, I guess so. But enough of that. What do you think of the videos?”
“I have many thoughts but the first is that they should never have been published. They are in every way shape and form disgusting.”
“That’s an adjective I’ve encountered a couple of times now. As well as related terms such as detestable, perverse, abominable, nauseating, repulsive, to name just a few.”
“Encountered where?”
“In comments from readers. There are hundreds already.”