“I don’t understand what she’s saying,” whispered Assad. But Carl had questioned worse. At least she answered.
“You say you don’t remember a Stephanie Gundersen who was a substitute teacher for your daughter’s class. But according to what we’ve heard, you two had a serious run-in. We’ve heard that you had a big fight at one of the parent-teacher conferences. Don’t you remember that, Birgit?”
She shook her head in bewilderment.
“She was the substitute teacher at Bolman’s who was murdered in ?stre Anl?g Park. My former boss actually questioned you in connection with that back in 2004.”
Birgit Zimmermann held up a finger in the air and nodded. Finally they had a connection.
“Do you remember why you were so agitated at the meeting? What happened between you and that Stephanie?”
In her drunken stupor, she shook her head and pointed her finger in the air again. “I know what you’re up to, ha-ha. You must think I’m an idiot and that you can pin something on me. But let me tell you, if you want to know anything about that, you’d be better off talking to my mother.”
“That will prove difficult because your mother is dead, Birgit.”
“Oh, oops, I forgot. But then you can ask my daughter. And you can also ask her who killed my mother.”
“What do you mean? Are you hinting that Denise killed your mother?”
“Ha-ha, you’re at it again,” she said, laughing hoarsely. “So you do think I’m an idiot, but I didn’t say what you just said. They’re your words.”
“May I say something?” asked Assad. As if he would keep quiet if she said no.
She looked at him a little confused, as if she had only just noticed he was there and almost appeared to be trying to remember where she knew him from.
“It seems that your daughter didn’t have the best relationship with her grandmother. Is that right?”
She smiled. “Well, aren’t you the clever one. They hated each other, to be blunt.”
Assad kept direct eye contact so she couldn’t avoid looking at him. “And why was that, Birgit? Was it because Denise suddenly turned her back on her family—something Stephanie Gundersen helped her with?”
He had expected a reaction, that much was clear, but not that she would hold her breath for a moment after having sprayed him with saliva when she laughed in his face.
“Let’s say that, chocolate man,” she said with a sniff. “That sounds perfect.”
And then she collapsed backward on the sofa and went out like a light.
Their audience was over.
—
“We didn’t do too well there, Carl,” said Assad back at the station. There was no reason for him to say “we.”
Carl nodded to the security guards.
“I can see it in your faces,” he said to them. “Do I have to report to Lars Bj?rn’s office again?”
They shook their heads. “No, this time it’s the police commissioner’s office,” one of them said, laughing.
Carl turned to Assad. “We’re agreed that we’re going to take this case to the end, right, Assad?”
He nodded.
“You and Gordon dig up all you can find about the Zimmermann family, okay? I want to know everything. When was Birgit married? What happened to her husband? How long had Denise been at Bolman’s Independent School? Where is the teacher who was at the meeting with Stephanie and Birgit Zimmermann? What is there of any worth in Rigmor Zimmermann’s estate? Anything like that so we can build up a better picture of this odd family. And one more thing: Find Denise Zimmermann even if it means you have to drive all the way to Slagelse.”
—
The police commissioner was not alone. Marcus Jacobsen was already sitting at the glass table on one of the strange leather chairs with three legs, nodding in a friendly manner.
“Take a seat,” said the commissioner.
Carl felt strange. The time had finally come after many years at HQ when he was sitting in the sanctuary with all the portraits of the commissioner’s predecessors staring down at him.
“I’ll get straight to the point, Carl M?rck,” said the commissioner. “I apologize that I was misled in relation to the percentage of solved cases in your department. It was based on a misunderstanding that has now been rectified, and your department will continue as before.” He nodded to Carl. “I want you to establish a better relationship with the TV crew here to make a program for Station 3. They will be shadowing you for the rest of the day. And I recommend you give them something to make them happy.”
Carl nodded. He would damn well give them something.
“Marcus here tells me that the old Stephanie Gundersen case and the murder of Rigmor Zimmermann have been linked to each other down in your department.”
Carl looked at Marcus with slight reproach, but he shook his head dismissively.
“While the case technically belongs to Lars Bj?rn’s department, and I seriously doubt that he will hand it over willingly, the situation is that his department have their hands full with the hit-and-run murders. Apart from that, I’m in charge of who does what, and I am assigning the case to you, Carl.”
Pure revenge for the embarrassment Lars Bj?rn caused him in front of the judicial committee, thought Carl. And the man responsible for this turn of events was sitting right next to him.
He winked at Marcus to thank him.
“Bring the TV crew up to speed with how you linked the cases and make sure they get some good shots, because we want to be able to see the efficiency of the police when the show is broadcast. Finally, I would like to add that Marcus Jacobsen has agreed to join HQ as an external consultant. I have no doubt that his experience will prove more than beneficial when the need arises.”
Carl nodded to Marcus. Brilliant news. But Marcus signaled that Carl would need to take the initiative now. Carl didn’t understand immediately what he meant, but Marcus managed to make him understand that they weren’t finished here yet with a few jerks of his head in the direction of the commissioner.
Carl cleared his throat. “Well, thank you, and we will do everything we can to solve the Stephanie Gundersen and Rigmor Zimmermann cases. I’d also like to apologize for my behavior the other day. It won’t happen again.”
A rare smile spread across the commissioner’s face.
The desired balance had been reestablished.
It felt great walking past Lars Bj?rn’s office. They say revenge is sweet, but that was an understatement. Revenge was amazing.
He nodded to Lis and Mrs. S?rensen in recognition of their indirect role and was still smiling as he almost bumped into Mona. They stood for a moment only half a meter apart, and Carl noticed how tired she looked.
“Have you made any progress with Rose?” she asked politely, but her mind was clearly elsewhere. Her skin was pale and once again she emanated vulnerability and the form of melancholia brought about by wasted opportunities.
“Are you okay, Mona?” he asked automatically, hoping that she would break down crying in his arms and confess how unhappy she had been every second since they broke up.