She hesitated for a moment before answering. “Because my mother and Denise had had a horrible fight that day. They hated each other even though they usually managed to contain it. But that day my mother wouldn’t give us the money for rent like she usually did. And that made Denise furious. So when they found my mother and she didn’t have the money on her, I thought it must be Denise who had taken it. Partly because I saw Denise leaving the apartment with a bottle in her hand a few minutes before my mother left. It was one of those heavy Lambrusco bottles. And believe me, it wasn’t only my mother that my father entertained with his stories about what you could do with one of those. We were all subjected to his tales when we were old enough. My father was a lunatic. He really was.”
Carl frowned. If James had returned to the apartment on Borgergade just a few minutes earlier, he would have seen his daughter leave the apartment and then things would probably have turned out very differently: He would have approached her, Rigmor might not have been murdered, and the old Stephanie Gundersen case would never have resurfaced.
“Thank you, Birgit,” said Carl.
In a way, she looked relieved. But it also seemed as if she thought there was nothing more to say. As if there was no reason to continue with this conversation. She seemed a little too sure.
“Your father died the day after Stephanie, Birgit. He drowned in shallow water, and judging by what we know about him, it seems very unlikely that he would have committed suicide. A man whose cunning helped him evade the worst accusations anyone could face. A man whose survival instinct was strong enough to help him escape the hangman’s noose. Can we agree that he of all people was an expert in hanging on to life?”
She took another cigarette. This time Assad didn’t light it for her.
“I know the type of person,” said Assad. “You’ll find bastards like that in any war at any given time.”
Carl nodded. “Yes, that’s true. But it’s also true that a man like your father always lets down his guard when he feels safe. He made a mistake in not leaving the past behind. In still bragging about his evil and cunning so many years later. And teaching his own family how to use that evil at any time with any available means was almost unforgivable.”
She nodded. She agreed.
“Your mother looked after your father, and I think they had an agreement based on discretion. Your mother knew that if he revealed too much in public, they would be doomed. No one could know who he was, because that would cost you everything. The business, your comfortable life. Everything.”
Carl nodded toward her Prince cigarettes, and she nodded back. It was always the same when he was wrapping up a case. The nicotine craving hit him.
“I’m convinced that your mother sacrificed your father for your sake, Birgit. He was old, difficult to look after and be around. He had fulfilled his purpose, which was to provide for his family, and now it was your mother’s turn. Maybe he boasted in public about who had killed Stephanie, so your mother made a quick decision and pushed him in the lake. Am I right?”
Birgit let out a deep sigh. There was nothing to add.
“It wasn’t your mother who killed Stephanie Gundersen, was it, Birgit? It wasn’t your mother your father was boasting about. It was you, wasn’t it? Your father was as proud as a peacock. Proud of his daughter who had shown so much resolve, eliminating the person who was poisoning her life.”
She looked away, neither confirming nor denying. Then she slowly turned toward them and lifted her head as if she took pride in making one last comment in the case.
“How is James?” she asked rather surprisingly.
Carl leaned forward toward the ashtray and tapped the ash from his cigarette. “He’s dying, Birgit. A dying man who wouldn’t imagine letting a woman like your mother continue to live in this world.”
She nodded.
“When you’ve found Denise, I’ll sign my confession and not a moment before,” she said.
50
Monday, May 30th, 2016
When Anneli turned the corner onto Webersgade, she was unpleasantly surprised to discover that there wasn’t one single free parking space near her house. What the hell were they showing on TV, since everybody had chosen to stay at home on the same night? It wasn’t only a wrench in the works; it was almost fatal.
I can’t double-park, drag Denise over the sidewalk and bicycle path, and then in between two cars. It’s far too risky, she thought while letting the car run idle at the end of the street.
So she took a chance and drove up onto the bicycle path at the point before the parking spaces started, assessing whether or not there was enough space to let her drive down to her house.
Good thing that the car isn’t wider, she thought, continuing on with one pair of wheels on the bicycle path and the other pair on the sidewalk. It was a risky maneuver, but if she managed to drive all the way there she would be able to park just one meter from her door.
Please, neighbors, don’t complain, she thought as she slowly rolled along. If they stayed indoors, the only thing she had to worry about was a passing patrol car. She smiled at the thought. Patrol cars in Copenhagen? There certainly weren’t many of those left in this permanent period of retrenchment.
She parked as intended, right next to her door, and let herself into the building.
Strangely enough, she had to brace herself before stepping into the mechanical engineer’s sitting room, where Denise’s body was leaning up against the shelf to the right of the door.
It had been several hours since she had killed her, and one single look at the body was enough to make Anneli worried.
Rigor mortis had already set in.
With a slight feeling of discomfort, she dragged the body away from the shelf to confirm her suspicion. Denise’s head was tilted to one side, her neck leaning backward in a fixed position that definitely didn’t look normal. Anneli grabbed Denise’s head with her fingertips and tried to straighten it. But despite some nasty crunching sounds from the stiff muscles and spine, she didn’t succeed. She took a deep breath and grabbed the body under the arms, only to discover to her surprise that even the shoulders were stiffening up. With some difficulty, she managed to press the silencer and then the gun into Denise’s hand and gently press her index finger against the trigger. That took care of the fingerprints.
I have to get her out of here before she becomes as stiff as a board. Otherwise I won’t be able to get her in or out of the car, she thought.
To her amazement, she felt sad looking down on this awkward corpse of a girl who had once been so full of life and fight.
She wouldn’t have liked this sight, thought Anneli in a moment of absurdity. It was almost laughable.
Even though it was almost ten thirty in the evening, it still looked like daytime outside. That was just the way it was in this part of the world.
Did that mean that she ought to wait until it was reasonably dark? That would make it way past midnight, and the body would be completely stiff.
No, she couldn’t wait.
Anneli dragged the body out of the mechanical engineer’s cluttered sitting room and propped it up against the wall in front of the main door so she would be able to move it quickly out into the car.