“Hearing that made me furious, so even though they tried to stop me, I forced my way into Fritzl’s secret office and stole whatever I could get my hands on so I had something to bargain with. I took photos of the room and of them shouting and screaming. Finally, I took Fritzl’s army knife and held it against Rigmor’s throat. I told her that I knew what it would sound like when I slit her windpipe. Together with the other threats, this was enough to make them cooperate.
“The deal was that they would let me live in this apartment and cover my expenses, and on top of that they would pay me twelve thousand kroner a month for the rest of my life. Of course, I should have demanded more, but I wasn’t that smart.” He laughed and sighed at the same time, looking like he was about to fall asleep. His eyes were as yellow as a werewolf’s. He clearly wasn’t well.
“In return, I promised to keep away entirely from Birgit and Denise. Rigmor assured me that if I contacted them, she wouldn’t give a damn about what I told the authorities about Fritzl. She’d make sure I was arrested and deported—and she really meant it. She’d rather sacrifice Fritzl and the good name of the family than the girls.”
“But I assume you didn’t stick to that promise,” said Carl.
He smiled. “Yes, I did, actually, in a way. I have no idea how many times I stood behind the trees by Sortedams Lake and watched the main entrance to Bolman’s Independent School without ever contacting Denise. I was just hoping to catch a glimpse of her when she left school.”
“And Birgit?”
“Yeah, out of curiosity I tried to find out where she was living, but she wasn’t registered anywhere. I planned to follow Denise when she walked home from school.”
“So you did?” asked Carl.
Assad tapped Carl on the shoulder, sighing. “Carl, honestly, do you see any humps on me?”
“You’ll get something to eat in twenty minutes, Assad. Please, no camel jokes now, okay?”
Assad sighed even louder. Apparently twenty minutes was too long.
“So did you follow Denise?”
“No, it never came to that. But I did see her leave the school several times. She had grown so beautiful and vibrant. It was really fascinating to watch her.” He took another sip from his glass. It seemed like he was running out of energy.
“But not as fascinating as watching Stephanie Gundersen, was it, James?”
A little water trickled out of the corners of his mouth, ending up as drops on his chin. His suddenly bright eyes expressed surprise.
“Why did you kill Stephanie?” came Carl’s inevitable question.
He put the glass on the table, clearing his throat, as the water had gone down the wrong way.
Then he shook his head eagerly. “Did I say you were good before? I take it back.”
Assad giggled. Was that another protest over the lack of food?
“Because?”
“Because I loved Stephanie. I chose her over Birgit and Denise. Simple as that. I saw her leaving the school one day, and we were both smitten. We saw each other for nine months, meeting up in town. In fact, we were together several times a week.”
“Why all the secrecy?”
“Because she was Denise’s teacher. If Denise saw us together and recognized me, I would . . . They’d told her I was dead. My agreement with Rigmor would be finished. I would be arrested and extradited.”
He stared vacantly and suddenly cried quietly. No sound, no sniffling.
“I didn’t kill Stephanie. Rigmor did.” His voice was quivering. “I’m sure the bitch saw me in town with Stephanie and took her revenge by killing her. When I confronted her with my suspicion, she screamed that it wasn’t her, but I didn’t believe her. Of course I didn’t. I just knew that I couldn’t touch her and that she could easily blame me for the murder. That I would be painted as an illegal foreign blackmailer and professional killer.”
“So you started drinking and kept your mouth shut while you stayed in this apartment and accepted her money. How pathetic can you get?”
Carl looked at Assad. Well, that sounds like the conclusion to that story, said his expression. But Assad was sleeping. The past few hours without anything to drink or eat had taken their toll.
“Fritzl drowned the next day, and after a few weeks I didn’t see Rigmor anymore because she sold the shop and the house and moved to Borgergade,” he continued.
“And what about you?”
“Me? I had absolutely nothing left to live for, so I just drank my days away.”
“And it was years before you got your revenge, is that how it was?”
“I was drunk every day for twelve years. That was all I wanted to do. And with twelve thousand a month, I wasn’t exactly drinking champagne.” He laughed dryly. That was when Carl noticed that he didn’t have a single tooth left in his mouth.
“And what changed that situation?”
He tapped his stomach. “I became ill. I saw the same thing happen to one of my drinking buddies, and he didn’t last long. Like him, I was suddenly dead tired all the time. Threw up blood and couldn’t be bothered to eat. I developed little red spots all over my upper body, and my skin turned yellow and itchy. I bruised easily, my legs cramped up, and I couldn’t get an erection. If I didn’t sleep constantly, I risked collapsing on the street. Yes, I was damn well aware what was happening.”
“So the time had come. Is that it?”
He nodded. “Even though I was ill, I didn’t stop drinking. I always had a bottle of cherry wine on me. I knew it was only a matter of time before I kicked the bucket, so I didn’t care about the agreement I had with Rigmor. Those fucking army men could do whatever the fuck they wanted with me. That was how I felt. As long as I got my revenge. So I went to the library and googled Rigmor and found out that she was still registered on Borgergade.”
“But she didn’t live there, though, did she?”
“No, as I discovered. The names on the door were Birgit and Denise F. Zimmermann. Oh, that little ‘F’ made me so happy because it meant I hadn’t been completely forgotten. I considered ringing the bell, but in the end I didn’t. I looked like shit and hadn’t had a shave or a wash for a week. I didn’t want them to see that. So I went over to the other side of the street and looked up at the windows, hoping that I might catch a glimpse of them. For the first time in many years, I was euphoric inside. And then Rigmor came out of the main door.”
“Did she recognize you?”
“No, not before I approached her. And then she bloody well started running off in the rain. She turned toward me shouting that I could go to hell and threw a bundle of thousand-kroner notes in front of me on the wet pavement. But that didn’t stop me. On the contrary, it made me fucking mad.”
“So you ran after her?”
“I was wasted, man, and the bitch ran quickly down a side street toward Kronprinsessegade. I only just saw her darting into the King’s Garden, but when I reached the entrance she was gone.”
Carl nudged his assistant. “Assad, wake up! James has something to tell us.”
Curly looked around in confusion. “What time is . . . ,” he managed to say before his stomach drowned him out.
“Rigmor Zimmermann had disappeared by the time you reached the King’s Garden. What happened then, James?” He looked at Assad. “Are you listening, Assad?”