An Old Debt

by Doriana Cantoni

  "Let's go out, you'll talk to me more calmly about this when we're alone. However, the key to the studio was not there and I will have to call the police station as soon as possible to have the environment searched," replied Petersen.

  "Are we going back to the precinct?" asked the officer as soon as they were out of the house.

  "Absolutely," Lars answered, checking the time with the chronograph that his wife Hege had given him for his last birthday, having some words that were particularly dear to him engraved in the case, then he added, "It's almost twelve o'clock now, and I imagine that your sergeant arrived there a while ago."

  They continued quietly for more than half the way, then Peterson let Holst go ahead and said to Poulsen, continuing to walk at a regular pace, "So what did you find?"

  "In a couple of places in the attic where Skov lived there were tiny traces of mud, on the ground near the bedside table and right in front of the closet that is located on the other side of the room. It might not be anything special, except that yesterday it only started snowing in the late afternoon, after the minister had died and Skov had been injured."

  "What's your guess?"

  "I suspect someone came into the house after it started snowing, probably last evening, or even during the night. He checked all the rooms, being very careful to erase the traces behind him, but he missed the mud."

  "If you're right, we are dealing with an organized criminal, a dangerous professional. I wonder what he has to do with a church pastor and what he was looking for."

  "It must be something that connects him to the murder to make him risk being seen while entering the pastor's house. With Skov still alive, maybe he wanted to check Knudsen's house for any clues that could lead to him. The fact that he closed the pastor's studio after leaving might be his first real mistake."

  "I thought so too," said Petersen. "Let's assume he stole the keys to the pastor. When he enters the house, he finds the studio closed, so he opens it with the key he finds in the set, and he closes it when he leaves, not realizing that in the spare set of keys still in the church there is not that particular key and therefore we would notice this inconsistency."

  "Luckily, the perfect crime does not exist," replied Poulsen, lengthening the pace.

  Holst had gone about ten meters ahead as they were talking, and had almost arrived in front of the precinct. He turned around, saying with a mocking smile, "I don't see Sergeant Lassen's off-road vehicle. Do you still believe he's here?"

  "Let's go inside and we'll find out, but I hope you're wrong," replied Petersen already upset.

  Inside, Toft was talking to a sixty-year-old lady who had gone to report losing her dog during the previous day's snowstorm.

  "I repeat, last night he was in his doghouse. We leave it on the porch of the house, but it is heated and there are also two nice blankets. Why would he run away?"

  "Madam, I am Inspector Petersen of the Copenhagen police station and this is my colleague Poulsen," said Lars, entering the conversation. "May I know exactly where you live?"

  The woman first looked at Toft and then at Holst to make sure that the man in front of her was indeed a police inspector, then, when faced with the two men's nods of consent, she replied, "On the provincial road, near the church and the pastor's house. My name is Karin Rasmussen."

  "Is your dog small?"

  "Oh, no, I wouldn't say that. Our Ralf is a wolf dog, that's why at night we leave him out. We took him with us three years ago, after we had been robbed."

  "So it's a watchdog."

  "Let's say that, but he's playful in nature and wouldn't hurt anyone. He only barks when he feels in danger, or in front of strangers who may come a little too close to our property, but he’s not aggressive, and with friends he's a real sweetheart."

  "What happened exactly?"

  "Last night at ten I checked that he was safe in his kennel, when there's dark he never leaves the porch, and then my husband and I went to bed. This morning at eight I went out with his breakfast, but he was no longer there," said the woman, holding back the tears with difficulty for that painful memory.

  "What does your husband think?"

  "He’s the owner of a furniture factory just outside the town, and today he had to go to work, but he has already called me twice to ask if our dog had returned home. I checked the surroundings and asked all the neighbors, then I came here."

  "Did something strange happen last night? Maybe some harassing noise that might have lured your dog out?" Lene asked.

  "I'm not sure, since we were already asleep, but at one point I thought I heard Ralf barking a couple of times, then he stopped immediately, and so I believed I was dreaming."

  "What time could it be?"

  "I don't know exactly, because I didn't look at the clock, but we had just fell asleep. Will you find him?"

  "At the moment we are dealing with the murder of the pastor and that is obviously our priority, but we will still do our best. I believe that Officer Toft will have no problem taking you home with the patrol car parked here behind, now that the streets are clean and practicable. He'll also be scouring the area again to see if he can track down your dog or at least find any clues," Petersen told her.

  "Of course," Toft said reluctantly.

  "You are a very good person. Don't think that I'm not sorry for Pastor Knudsen and for poor Ingrid who struggles between life and death. Like everyone in this village, I pray you arrest the killer, but Ralf is the only company I have," said Mrs. Rasmussen, moved.

  Toft had already put on his coat and hat. Petersen said goodbye to the woman, wishing her to find her dog as soon as possible, then he approached the cop and asked him in a half-voice, taking care not to be heard by others, "Before you go, could you tell me what happened to the sergeant? I don't see him."

  "He called an hour ago. He had a terrible voice and I thought he was sick, but instead it was the line, as he called while he was on the road from a place where he had stopped. He said that his brother, who still lives on the coast, had a car accident because of the bad weather, and that he had to go to him."

  "Who is this brother?"

  "Don't ask me. It was the first time I'd heard of him, usually the sergeant never talks to us about his family."

  "Do you mean that in these two years he has never said anything to you about himself or that brother?"

  "That's right."

  "How long will he stay out?"

  "He doesn't know exactly, he talked to me about at least a few days. Looks like his brother's in the hospital with a lot of fractures. He was still talking when the line fell, and he never called back."

  "All right. Now you go with the lady, but be careful. Almost certainly someone entered the pastor's house last night, and for this reason we'll have to bring in the forensic team. Given the proximity of the two houses, it may be that the dog barked at a stranger who was moving at night nearby, and the fact that it has abruptly disappeared gives me a lot to think about."

  Listening to those words, Toft seemed to come to life. He thought he had to look for a stupid dog, and instead he went on a mission.

  "Don't worry. I'll look around with the utmost care," he said, reinvigorated.

  "Good. Let's keep in touch by radio every half hour and don't be reckless."

  "I'm armed, in any case."

  "One last thing. Have you contacted Hanne Møller?"

  "I've talked to both her and her son. Luckily, he has an off-road vehicle and has been very helpful. He will be here with Mrs. Hanne around two o'clock," said the boy, then he greeted the inspector and the others present, beckoning Mrs. Rasmussen to follow him.

  "Do you think the disappearance of the dog has something to do with the investigation?" Holst asked him as soon as the two had left.

  "It’s starting to show a bit too many coincidences, and I don't like it at all," said Petersen while sitting at Toft's desk.

  "Are you calling the central police station?" asked Lene.

  "Yes, they hav
e to send the forensic team as soon as possible, and then I want to know from Janssen if he found out anything in the hospital. In the meantime, why don't you go with Holst to eat something? You could bring me back a sandwich and something to drink, maybe a beer. Then we also need to solve the problem of the snow boots."

  "What problem?" asked the officer, curious.

  "We borrowed two pairs of boots from Erik Ström, the innkeeper who rented us two rooms above his place, but we have to return them to him by today. He told us there's a shoe shop near the post office run by a woman named Ingeborg."

  "Yes, it's true. If we hurry, we'll find it still open," said Holst checking the wall clock. It was 12:30.

  "I wear size 45, as a shoe size. Take this money, it should be enough," said the inspector, handing Poulsen a large note.

  "No preference?" she asked.

  "As long as they're slip-resistant and of good workmanship," replied the inspector smiling.

  Lene took the money putting it in her jacket pocket, and she left the office with Holst who was suddenly at ease at the thought of no longer having to endure the presence of Petersen. The man seemed very happy to take a break and go and eat with his colleague from Copenhagen, a woman of class, very beautiful, and of acute intellect, as he had repeatedly said.

  "He doesn't know what awaits him," Petersen thought to himself, and the thought made him smile.

  CHAPTER 8

  Inspector Petersen was completely alone in the Torslunde police precinct. He looked around with a relieved gaze, as he was finally able to call the Copenhagen police station without being heard by anyone. He picked up the old grey telephone on Toft's desk, amidst several files and notes of various kinds, and dialed the number by heart asking for detective Janssen.

  Søren arrived exhausted on the other side of the line after a couple of minutes.

  "I just got back from the hospital, Inspector," he said in a frantic voice.

  "What did you find out?"

  "In fact, almost nothing, but I had to question everyone on duty to be sure. As for Jan Slovak, the intensive care patient, no one asked about him neither to the nurses in the ward nor even calling the hospital information bureau, which on these things is always accurate. There is still a possibility that some of them might have talked to a stranger, not thinking of doing any harm, and now they prefer to keep quiet, but it did not seem to me. Anyway, it's another story about Ingrid Skov, because a nurse who was on duty in the ward when the girl first arrived remembers having received a phone call from a man. He was asking for news about her."

  "Who was he?"

  "She says he introduced himself as a police officer, even if she doesn't remember if he told her his name."

  "This is interesting. How did the voice sound to her?"

  "That of a man, not a boy, it was the only thing she was sure of, but apart from that detail she didn't know anything else relevant to the investigation. She doesn't even think she'd recognize the voice, with all the phone calls she gets."

  "Look, the situation is not good here. Do you have an off-road vehicle?" Peterson asked and started drumming with his fingers on the desk.

  "I could borrow it from my brother," said the man, suddenly on alert.

  "Then be ready to join us. You need to know that the local sergeant might be involved, so far I haven't been able to talk to him or see him. He called the precinct when I wasn't there, and he said that he had to run to the bedside of his brother who had an accident on the coast. Instead, I still don't know what to think of the two other cops, but they stink too."

  "Are you serious, Chief?"

  "Unfortunately, yes, and I assure you that it is not pleasant to stay in a place and not know where to turn, but it’s better if we discuss it in person. Now I'm talking to Nielsen. He has to send me our colleagues of the forensic team as soon as possible to search the house of Pastor Knudsen. Yesterday they forgot to do it."

  "What do I do? Can I leave now?"

  "Søren, I need you here, but I need you to assure me that if you come you will not give the torment to Poulsen. That's all I'm asking."

  "It's a closed chapter for me, Inspector. I give you my word of honor that there will be no problems at all," said the other with a steady voice.

  "Then it's all right, I'll wait you here as soon as you can come. We stay above the pub that belongs to a certain Erik Ström. It is located under the arcades in the village square, when you arrive talk to him, if you don't find me, and then come to the precinct. It was the only accommodation because the reporters had beaten us to it. You can sleep in my room, there are two single beds and it's not bad."

  "I'm on my way," said Janssen, and he passed the communication upstairs, to the superintendent.

  Kurt Nielsen answered the call almost screaming, so Petersen immediately understood that someone had just blown his nerves.

  "I'm Petersen," said the inspector, waiting for an answer from the other side.

  "You've finally made yourself heard, Lars. I know it's still early, but do you have any news? I'm being tormented here."

  "Kurt, I remind you that I've been in Torslunde only since yesterday. Who broke your balls?"

  "Susanne Hansen, the reporter from the first channel, has just called for news. Yesterday, they didn't broadcast the report because they hadn't collected enough material, and so they asked us for an interview. When the reporter found out that you were leading the investigation, she immediately started to laugh. Is there something I'm missing?"

  "She's just a careerist. I had a big fight with her a few years ago, during that case of the drug dealers who were getting their supplies through the strait. She wanted a scoop, and she almost contaminated the evidence we were collecting. Since then, she can't stand me and it's the same for me," said Petersen.

  "This time I'm sorry, but you're gonna have to deal with her. To get rid of the lady, I said I'd let her know, but she's not a newbie and didn't fall for it. Immediately afterwards, in fact, the Chief of Police called me in person, and he ordered me to cooperate with her with the utmost transparency. You can be sure she's got high-level contacts. I'm afraid we can't ignore her. Either way, you should get away with an interview. "

  "What the hell can I tell her? We're just at the very beginning."

  "Stay vague. What's going to cost you?"

  "If you want, I'll tell you right now. The situation in the precinct isn't the best, to put it mildly. I called you just to fill you in. Sergeant Lassen didn't show up and finally he had a cop tell me that he was going to be out of town for some reason, because of a brother who's just had a car accident, if you believe it."

  "What do you think? "

  "I'll tell you honestly, even if it's just an intuition that at the moment is not supported by anything. However, my opinion is this; I believe that our killer could live here in the village, and I would not rule out that the local police are compromised."

  "Even the two officers?" asked Nielsen, worried.

  "That's my suspicion."

  "Then we're in the shit. What do you think you're going to do?"

  "First, I asked Janssen to join us, and he's already on his way. Poulsen is proving to be a very good partner, but I need someone trustworthy to watch my back, and he is perfect at that. Then you should send me back the forensic team. Have them come here to the precinct, yesterday they didn’t search the pastor's house, it’s why they will have to do so today."

  "How come they didn't?"

  "I really don't know what to say, except that it seems like a strange forgetting. In any case, the local cops told me that our colleagues only searched the church, while they were waiting for an officer from Copenhagen to know how to move. First, we did a quick sweep of the house, without touching anything, and I suspect that the killer came in with a set of keys that almost certainly he stole from the pastor, after killing him."

  "Why would he do that?"

  "In my opinion, to look for anything that might link him to the murder and destroy it. We don't kno
w if he found it. The studio was locked and the key was not in the set we have, so we didn't get in. I thought it was best not to force the door and wait for forensics."

  "You did well. If you are right and the local police are compromised, we must act completely above suspicion and respect the rules to the letter. The press are waiting for us to take a misstep to destroy us."

  "Let's just hope that Hansen doesn't decide to screw us up. Luckily, you don't know her like me, but I assure you that she's a specialist in finding the rotten and embroidering on it," said Lars.

  "Then make an effort to limit the damage and keep me posted. When do you think you'll be back?"

  "I need to interview some people in this town to get a full picture, but I think by tomorrow. This morning I called the hospital, and they told me that Skov is stable, even if she's not out of danger yet. However, in order to be able to hear her as a witness, if she recovers, it will take at least ten full days. They are far too many to wait without doing anything, we must keep on investigating, hoping to find some relevant clue. Do you know if the pastor's autopsy has been done yet?"

  "They brought me the coroner's report just now, and I put it aside. Wait for me to find it again," Nielsen said, and Lars heard the superintendent rummaging through the chaos of his desk.

  "Here it is," he said after a couple of minutes, starting to read. "Death occurred almost immediately due to the fracture of the skull in the occipital area caused by a very heavy blunt object, probably made of iron. The blow was inflicted with extreme violence and judging from its angle from a right-handed man of an approximate height of six inches. I don't think there's anything else, but just wait for me to check better what it's written. Ah yes, the doctor pointed out that in the inner area of the left forearm, more or less in the middle, the minister had a burn scar four centimeters by four wide. It's several years old, maybe even a few decades."