“Well, this man is neither a fool nor an idiot and he was turned away nine times.”
Simonsen waved his arms in a theatrical gesture. “I wish you would respect the systems. He gets one minute. Tell him that.”
Planck introduced him: “The chief inspector is ready for you now. Take your time.” Then he held out the phone.
Simonsen took the phone, grunted his name, and listened. One minute grew to five. From time to time he asked a short question. Pedersen tried unsuccessfully to decode the conversation since it was obviously important. He did not, however, get further than a guess. Simonsen placed the cell phone on a desk without turning it off.
“I believe that the final destination of our minivan has been found.” He pointed to the phone. “Take him along with you, Arne. You’re going to Frederiksv?rk. And you’ve got your hands full.”
CHAPTER 45
Simonsen’s orders that any criminal records of the victims, specifically charges of child molestation, should be uncovered as quickly as possible spread like rings in the water across the nation, and despite the loud objections of many officers regarding the weekend work, the police machinery worked smoothly and yielded results. Troulsen gathered the threads together. Just back from the Dagbladet, he had a good knowledge of the victims. When he felt there was enough evidence to establish a sexual orientation toward children, he went to his boss. Simonsen waited in his office, where the poster of the victims now hung, stolen from Pedersen. The next red checkmark went to Jens Allan Karlsen from ?rhus, alias Mr. Southwest.
Troulsen explained, “Bags of videos in the crawlspace under the house, several diskettes with fingerprints belonging to Allan Ditlevsen—that is, the hot-dog vendor from Middelford. He was also active on KidsOnTheLine.dk. At least four meetings with young virtual friends and unfortunately very real meetings. Also, he was thrown out of the Danish Boy Scouts. Would you like that story?”
Simonsen shook his head and hung up.
Peder Jacobsen—Mr. Southeast—was much more difficult to pin down as a child molester. The matter was inherently sensitive and none of the man’s friends could or would put this label on him. In his personal effects there was also nothing that pointed to a sexual attraction to children. The police worked hard and long without results and finally the matter was resolved in a hamburger joint in Brabrand.
A fourteen-year-old boy and a man in his forties were sitting at a table by the window. Two plainclothes policemen walked over to them and one of them stuck his police badge under the nose of the man.
“Scram.”
The other grabbed the man’s coat and pushed it into his lap. He added, “Now!”
The man left without protest and the two officers sat down.
“When did you last get something to eat, Tommy?” The snarl in the officer’s voice was gone.
“Think it was yesterday.”
“What would you like?”
“A cheeseburger would be good.”
“We’ll buy you two, once we leave.”
The officer who was sitting next to the boy took out a photograph from his jacket. It was rolled up into a cylinder and he had to smooth it out against the edge of the table a couple of times before it lay flat.
“Do you know this guy?”
The boy glanced at the picture. “That’s one of the guys who got murdered, isn’t it? I saw it in the paper. Is it true what they say?”
“Yes, it’s true. Do you know him?”
“A couple of years ago. I’m too old now. He preferred the younger ones. Try talking to J?rgen or Kasper. Maybe Snot-Sophie.”
“Perverse? Violent?”
“No, not at all. Straightforward. In and out, done.”
The officers nodded to each other. That was enough. The older one looked sadly at the boy. His son was the same age. He played video games, was a goalie in soccer, and blushed if you asked him about girls.
“Do you have somewhere to sleep tonight?”
“No, you lot have seen to that.”
“What if I drive you home to your mother? I’m sure she’d be happy to see you. If only for a few days.”
The boy considered this proposal, unused to kindness offered without a hook. “No, thanks, but it was nice of you to ask.” He did not explain himself.
The two officers got up to leave, and on their way out one of them bought two cheeseburgers and a glass of juice.
Ten minutes later, Simonsen placed a red checkmark against Peder Jacobsen.