The Scarred Woman (Afdeling Q #7)

The inspector turned toward her. “Thank you, we’d prefer to talk to Miss Svendsen alone, if you don’t mind.”

Anneli kept a straight face, but it was difficult. When had she last seen her manager humiliated, and when had someone last called Anneli “miss”?

Anneli caught the inspector’s eye. “Yes, I think I know what this is about.”

“I see.”

“I received a call half an hour ago from a former colleague at Gammel K?ge Landevej. I believe you have just spoken with her. Elsebeth Harms. Isn’t that right?”

The two policemen looked at each other. Had they asked her to keep quiet? That was her problem if they had.

“I wish I could help you, but I don’t think I know anything.”

“I think you should leave that to us to decide, Miss Svendsen.”

That brought a smile to her manager’s face; she was standing behind them. Now the score was 1–1.

“You own a Ford Ka, is that correct?”

She nodded. “Yes, I’ve had it for nearly five years. A good economical car, and it can almost be parked anywhere.” She laughed without it resonating with any of them.

“Senta Berger and Michelle Hansen are both former clients of yours, is that correct?”

She gave a knowing smile. “Yes, but I assume that Elsebeth and my manager would have confirmed that already.”

“Do you have anything to say about these two murders?” asked the other man.

What a stupid question, she thought, looking at the man. Was he new to the job?

She took a deep breath. “I’ve been following the news, and obviously it made me very sad when Michelle Hansen was hit the first time. After all, she is my client—or rather, was—and she was a really nice girl. It came as a great shock when I then read about Senta Berger and now Michelle again. It’s really affected me. Do you have any leads?”

The Lars Pasg?rd man looked annoyed at the question and didn’t answer. “Yes, the media have been busy,” he said. “Your manager tells us that you’ve had quite a lot of absences lately. Dates that fit well with the incidents.”

Anneli looked up. She didn’t like her manager’s attitude.

“Yes, I’ve had to take some time off lately. That’s correct. But now I’m back.”

“And the reason for your absence is a little unclear. Have you been ill?”

“I am ill.”

“I see. And what’s wrong with you, if I may ask? Something that might explain your whereabouts?”

Any minute now and they’ll ask me about exact times, and I don’t want that, she thought.

Anneli stood up slowly. “I haven’t been very forward about my illness, no. I can see now that I should’ve been. But it’s been a very difficult time for me. I’ve been in a lot of pain and have been very depressed. But things are better at the moment.”

“So what—” her manager blurted out before Anneli pulled up her blouse.

She stood like that for a moment so they could see the bandage that showed under her bra before pulling that up as well to bare her chest area.

“Breast cancer,” she said, pointing as the three people in front of her instinctively pulled back.

“It was just recently that I was told that I have a chance of surviving, and that’s what pulled me out of it. I’ll probably still have to take things easy, but I hope to be back full-time within a week or two, even though I’ll still need treatment in the coming weeks.”

She gently pulled her bra and blouse back down again.

“I’m sorry,” she said to her manager. “I just couldn’t talk about it.”

Her manager nodded. If there was anything that could make women humble, it was experiencing breast cancer close-up.

“We understand,” said the inspector, looking a little shaken. The two policemen looked at each other. Anneli didn’t know what to make of their expressions, but it didn’t look bad.

Pasg?rd took a deep breath, and Anneli sat down. Behind them, the manager was leaning up against the bookcase. Was she about to faint? She was welcome to.

“I’ve thought a lot about this,” said Anneli, “and I’m actually glad that you came today. I am aware about client confidentiality, but I don’t think what I’m about to say will violate it.” She bit her upper lip. Hopefully they would interpret it as a sign that she was having an inner struggle.

“I saw on TV yesterday that Michelle Hansen might have been involved in a robbery. I also saw that her boyfriend was a bouncer at the nightclub that was robbed. I recognized him as the Patrick Pettersson, who Michelle sometimes dragged along here with her. A rather provocative young man, if you ask me. An electrician with tattoos up and down his arms and huge muscles. He definitely looks like he’s taken steroids, which would also explain his violent temper. Last time Michelle brought him here, he shouted at her to get a grip. It was something about Michelle having messed up by moving in with Patrick without informing anyone. Patrick was fuming that they would have to pay back the housing benefit she’d been claiming and that she had committed fraud behind his back. The latter I didn’t believe. He comes across as a very cunning type.”

Pasg?rd looked pleased while taking down notes. “You think he might have something to do with the murders?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that he’s crazy about cars and that he was going to confront Michelle about the situation. It was about money, no doubt about that. He was very keen to get his hands on more of that, and he had complete control over her.”

“Do you know if Senta Berger and Michelle Hansen knew each other?”

His tone was suddenly friendlier. Were they finally on the same wavelength?

She shook her head. “I thought about that, but I don’t think I know anything. Certainly nothing I can remember at the moment.” She paused to emphasize what she had said.

“But there’s something else I should probably mention now you’re here.”

“Yes?”

“Birna Sigurdardottir is also one of my clients. She’s the one who was shot . . . outside a nightclub, I believe.”

The inspector leaned in over the table.

“She was, yes. We were just about to ask you about that.” She nodded. Her timing had been right.

“I believe Michelle Hansen and Birna Sigurdardottir knew each other.”

“What makes you believe that?”

Anneli turned to her computer and began typing.

“Look here. Last time Michelle was here she came in immediately after Birna. I’m sure they must have waited together in reception, and I also seem to recall that it’s happened before, but I’m not quite sure about that.”

“And what do you make of that?”

She sat back in her chair. “That they maybe arrived together. That they maybe knew each other more than I was aware.”

Inspector Pasg?rd nodded with a satisfied look on his face. In fact, he looked almost exhilarated.

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