The Library of Shadows

by Mikkel Birkegaard

  'Are you sure?' said Henning, giving her a searching glance. 'That would mean…' He stopped in mid-sentence. 'Well, what the hell would that mean?'

  'That Kortmann has sent his errand boy with a message for Remer,' said Katherina, sitting up. She regretted reacting the way she had, and she crossed her arms so Henning wouldn't notice her hands were still shaking slightly.

  Henning nodded. 'I think you're right. If it really was his chauffeur, then there can't be any doubt that Kortmann is involved.' He grabbed the steering wheel with both hands and stared out. 'And you're absolutely sure about this?' he repeated.

  'I'm telling you, it was him.'

  'Bloody hell.'

  'Jon's on his way,' said Katherina, but it was clear that her companion was no longer listening. Instead, Henning sat with his eyes fixed straight ahead, looking at the white Polo and muttering angrily to himself.

  'All these years,' he said.

  Katherina looked at the section of the building that wasn't hidden behind the two-metre-high hedge surrounding the place. It was a two-storey structure made of red brick with a slate roof. Earlier, when they first arrived, they had slowly driven by so that Henning could read the sign attached to the iron gate that opened on to the property. 'Demetrius School' it said, but neither of them knew what that meant.

  A fierce wind had started blowing and the sky above was just as grey as the slate roof of the school, making the dividing line nearly invisible. It almost looked as if the roof had been removed from the building, like on a dolls' house. Katherina wished that she could look down inside the rooms and discover whatever secrets the walls were protecting.

  The sound of a car engine starting up tore Katherina out of her reverie.

  'Now what?' she said, turning to face Henning, who with a lurch put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking slot.

  'I have to talk to him,' he said. 'I'll be damned if he thinks he can make fools of us all.'

  'Are you crazy?' But Katherina's protests were drowned out by Henning's curses.

  'It's the best chance we have. His bodyguard is here, which means Kortmann must be home alone. What is he going to do? Run us down with his wheelchair?'

  'Shouldn't we at least wait for Jon?' said Katherina.

  'He's not the one Kortmann has been duping for the past twenty years.'

  Katherina could see by Henning's expression that she wouldn't be able to change his mind. He was driving fast and shifting gears ferociously, as if it was the car he wanted to punish.

  'Let me at least tell him where we're going,' she said, taking her mobile out of the glove compartment.

  Henning merely growled in response.

  Katherina couldn't start discussing things with Jon while Henning was within earshot. Just before they rang off, Jon said that he would meet them at Kortmann's villa as soon as he could. In the meantime, she had to try to persuade Henning to wait.

  'What are you actually planning to do once we get there?' asked Katherina after they'd been driving for several minutes without speaking.

  'I want to make him tell me the truth.'

  'And if he refuses?'

  Henning cast a swift glance in her direction and she thought she saw a trace of doubt in his eyes.

  'He won't do that,' he said firmly. 'Besides, I'll be able to tell the truth by looking at him. I've known him almost my whole life.'

  'But he's been lying to you all this time,' Katherina pointed out. 'What's going to stop him from continuing to lie?'

  Henning didn't answer, but his expression was no longer as fierce, and he had started driving more slowly.

  As they approached Kortmann's villa, it started to rain. At first big, heavy drops hammered against the car's windscreen and roof at a slow, intermittent pace. But very quickly the rain started pouring down at such a rapid rate that it sounded like static. The windscreen wipers soon could not keep up, and Henning had to slow down and lean forward to be able to see where he was driving. In a matter of seconds the temperature inside the car dropped several degrees. Katherina shivered.

  'The gate!' cried Henning. 'It's open.'

  Katherina peered through the sheet of water covering the windscreen. Henning was right. The big wrought-iron gate to Kortmann's property stood open, just wide enough for a car to drive through. They exchanged glances. Henning looked worried.

  'I've never seen this before,' he said, driving through the gate. The parking spaces in front of the house were empty. Henning drove as close to the main entrance as he could. After he switched off the engine, they sat there for a moment, listening to the rain.

  'It doesn't look like it's going to stop any time soon,' said Henning, reaching for the door handle. 'Are you coming?'

  Katherina nodded. They both jumped out and ran for the oak door. A little overhang above the entrance offered some shelter, but after running the few metres from the car they were almost soaked through. Henning pressed the doorbell, and they could hear a muted ringing from inside. They waited half a minute, and then Henning pressed the bell again, this time holding it down longer. Katherina hoped that Kortmann wasn't home after all so they could avoid this impromptu confrontation and disappear without anyone knowing that they'd even been here.

  'He's probably upstairs,' said Henning, pressing the bell for another ten seconds. 'He'd better not think we're just going to drive away.'

  There was still no response from inside the house and Henning started pounding on the front door with his fist.

  'Maybe he's really not home,' Katherina suggested. 'His chauffeur could have driven him somewhere before he went off to meet Remer.'

  Henning shook his head.

  'He's in there,' he said. 'I can feel it. Come on, we'll take the lift.'

  He raced off through the rain and Katherina reluctantly followed. Together they dashed round the house to the lift tower. Even from some distance away, they could hear the rain drumming relentlessly on the huge metal structure. They were drenched by the time they reached the tower door, which Henning yanked open so they could throw themselves inside and get out of the rain.

  'What bloody awful weather,' he exclaimed, shaking his head like a dog shaking water off his fur. The floor was splotched with the rain dripping off their clothes.

  Inside the tower the sound of the rain was even louder, an uninterrupted hammering on the metal hull that drowned out everything else. Katherina was expecting at any second to hear Kortmann's voice on the loudspeaker near the door, but it remained silent. Henning found the button to start the lift. The huge gears on both sides began to move, and very slowly the platform rose.

  'What's that?'

  Henning was looking at the floor, so Katherina did the same. At first she couldn't see what he was talking about, but then she noticed a shadow on the floor that couldn't be coming from either of them. The light source was in the ceiling, and they both looked up at it, seven or eight metres overhead.

  A shapeless silhouette directly above them was creating the shadow, but they couldn't tell what it was. The lift continued its ascent, and they slowly got closer. Something was hanging from the ceiling of the lift shaft, and Katherina stepped over to the very edge of the platform to get a better look.

  'Oh no,' she said when she realized what it was.

  Kortmann's lifeless body hung from the ceiling like a piece of meat wrapped in an expensive suit.

  'Oh my God,' exclaimed Henning, as he too stepped over to the edge.

  The body was coming inescapably closer even though Henning desperately pressed all the buttons he could find. Kortmann's thin legs slowly slid past, followed by his torso, which seemed to be twisted at a strange angle. His face was turned towards Katherina, and she had to look away as they reached eye level. Kortmann's eyes were open wide and his mouth was contorted into a rigid expression of terror.

  When Kortmann's feet struck the floor, his body began tipping towards Katherina. She frantically pushed it away. The corpse weighed virtually nothing but it was completely rigid and
it fell towards Henning standing on the opposite side. He leaped out of the way, as if the body carried some sort of disease. The corpse calmly came to rest on the floor of the lift, frozen in an awkward position, like a victim of Vesuvius. As they continued upwards, the rope from which Kortmann had been hanging coiled onto the body like a long piece of spaghetti.

  With a lurch the lift came to a halt.

  Almost simultaneously the rain stopped, just as suddenly as it had begun, and there was utter silence inside the tower. Katherina and Henning looked at each other. Henning's face no longer radiated anger; instead, his eyes were filled with terror. And Katherina knew her expression was similar. Her heart was pounding and she felt nauseated, which made her gasp for air.

  'I think we can rule out suicide this time,' said Henning, trying to sound calm. He nodded towards the ceiling. 'It would have been impossible for him to tie that rope himself.'

  Katherina followed his gaze to the iron bars overhead where the rope had been tied. It was still more than two and a half metres to the ceiling. She let her eyes run along the rope down to the body on the floor, forcing herself to look at it even though what she most wanted to do was close her eyes or run away. A noose was wrapped round the neck of the frail body and she saw that his hands had been tied behind his back. Henning knelt beside the body and studied the hands as he nodded to himself. Hesitantly he stretched out two fingers to Kortmann's throat and touched him just under the jaw. He yanked his hand away as if he'd received an electric shock.

  'He's ice cold,' said Henning, wiping his fingers on his trousers as if he'd touched something contagious.

  He stood up, stepped over the corpse and pushed open the door to the house. There lay Kortmann's wheelchair on its side with a checked blanket several metres away. The door at the end of the catwalk stood open, and a light was on inside the house.

  They looked at each other.

  'Don't you think we should get out of here?' said Katherina.

  'Let's just take a quick look,' said Henning, stepping onto the catwalk. Katherina followed. She thought their footsteps echoed much too loudly on the metal flooring and she tried to tiptoe her way forward. Henning didn't seem bothered by the sound and strode towards the door leading into the house.

  They entered a hallway with paintings on the walls and a thick carpet on the floor, which to Katherina's great relief muted the sound of their footsteps. Henning continued on to yet another open door at the end of the hall. It led to the library, which Jon had described to Katherina, but she was still surprised by its stylish furnishings and the peaceful atmosphere. She had only experienced Kortmann as a suspicious, power-hungry man and had completely forgotten that they shared a passion for books.

  The walls were lined with bookcases filled with volumes bound in beautifully preserved leather. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling sent a soft glow over the reading areas in the centre of the room, while the indirect lighting above the shelves seemed to raise the ceiling, giving the room the air of a museum.

  They were no more than twenty metres away from Kortmann's body, but as soon as they stepped inside the room, it felt as if they'd entered an entirely different world of order and refinement. The uneasiness Katherina had felt even before they found Kortmann's body had disappeared, and she now wished they could stay in this room. She went over to the nearest bookshelf and placed the palm of her hand on the spines of several books. They felt warm under her touch.

  'Impressive, isn't it?' said Henning, uttering a sigh. 'What's going to happen to all the books now?' There was great sadness in his voice, as if he were talking about small children who had been abandoned. He sank onto one of the leather armchairs and looked around at the surrounding bookshelves. His eyelids blinked rapidly, as if he were greedily taking pictures of a phenomenon that would soon disappear.

  With her fingertips lightly touching the books on the shelves, Katherina walked along one wall. There was no doubt they were valuable volumes, and many of them were so charged that her fingers tingled when she ran them over the spines. Henning was right – it would be a great loss if these books were scattered to the winds, but what could they do to prevent it?

  'I wish we could take them with us,' said Henning, as if he had read her thoughts.

  Katherina nodded. 'We've got to go,' she said, tearing herself away.

  Henning reluctantly got up from the chair and took one last look around before they went back to the tower.

  In the lift they were once again confronted by Kortmann's body, frozen in the middle of the platform.

  'So he was to be trusted, after all,' said Henning with regret in his voice.

  'It looks that way,' replied Katherina. She was embarrassed that she'd let herself get drawn into condemning Kortmann without any real proof. But she consoled herself by remembering that he hadn't been especially cooperative either.

  'We can't just leave him like this,' said Henning firmly.

  'If we move him, we'll become suspects,' Katherina pointed out.

  'It's already a homicide case,' said Henning. 'If the police connect us to the case, we'll have a problem explaining things no matter what. I'm taking him to his library. It's where he belongs.' He stood on his toes and stretched his arms up to the ceiling, where he could just manage to reach the knots tied in the rope.

  After untying Kortmann, he lifted him up and carried his body inside the house. Katherina stayed where she was. She had a feeling that they were committing a grave mistake, but at the same time she could understand why Henning refused to accept that his mentor for all these years should be left lying in the cold shaft of the lift. When Henning returned, he didn't say a word, just used his sleeve to carefully wipe off the door handle and the buttons in the lift.

  It seemed to Katherina that their descent to ground level took forever. All she wanted was to get out of that place as quickly as possible. Ever since their arrival, she'd had a feeling they were being watched. As if the whole thing had been stage-managed and was waiting for them so that they could carry out their roles. Had it been planned that they and not the police should find Kortmann first? Could that be a warning from the Shadow Organization?

  The sky outside was still grey; sporadic raindrops were hitting the ground with audible slaps. Even though it was only late afternoon, it was almost as dark as night, and they could hardly see the path in front of them. They hurried through the garden and back to the front of the house, where the car was parked.

  Just as they were about to get into the vehicle, they heard the sound of a car engine heading up the driveway. Both of them froze and turned their faces towards the sound.

  The next second they were blinded by the headlamps.

  28

  'Something's wrong,' said Jon the moment he saw Katherina's and Henning's expressions in the glow of the headlamps. Behind them Kortmann's villa was in darkness, except for a light in one window on the top floor.

  'He must have thrown them out,' suggested Pau from the back seat. 'That would be just like him, the old tyrant.'

  Jon had finally been convinced that Pau really meant what he said about being on their side, and so he'd been allowed to come along. It wasn't Jon's decision, after all, whether Pau should be accepted or not into the new alliance. But now Jon regretted bringing him.

  Jon drove the car closer. Katherina finally seemed to recognize him and relief spread across her face. She came over to the car the minute it stopped and hugged Jon as soon as he got out. He noticed that she was shaking.

  'What happened?' he asked.

  'Kortmann is dead,' Henning announced from the other side of the car.

  'Dead? How?'

  'We found him hanged in the tower,' explained Henning, motioning with his head towards the house. 'It looked as if someone had… helped him.'

  Jon gently pushed Katherina away so he could study her face. Her eyes were shiny, and she was still shaking. With a nod she confirmed what Henning had said. Jon pulled her close again and wrapped his arms around her
.

  'Could it have been a break-in?' he asked over Katherina's shoulder. 'I mean, the gate was open, so anyone could have got in.'

  Henning shook his head. 'It seems unlikely. As far as I could tell, nothing was missing.'

  Jon noticed that Katherina gave a start when Pau got out of the car to join them.

  'So much for your theory that he was part of the Shadow Organization, huh?' said Pau.

  Henning was just as surprised to see Pau as Katherina was, and he turned to Jon with an indignant look on his face.

  'What's he doing here?'

  'It appears he has changed his mind,' replied Jon.

  'I didn't feel like being Kortmann's errand boy,' Pau interjected. 'But I guess now I won't be.' He shook his head. 'Poor old guy.'

  Henning looked intently at Pau but said no more than, 'We can't stay.'

  Katherina was shivering. 'Take me away from here,' she said.

  'Let's go back to Libri di Luca,' suggested Jon. 'Iversen and the others will be there soon.'

  Henning nodded and cast one last look at Pau before he got into his car and drove away.

  There were lights on in the windows of Libri di Luca when they got back. Katherina had regained her composure, although she hadn't said much on the drive from Hellerup. Pau hadn't spoken either, merely muttered to himself and sighed.

  Henning had already arrived, and he'd obviously told Iversen what had happened, because the old bookseller looked shaken as he sat in the armchair behind the counter holding a glass of cognac. He looked up with distress as Katherina and Jon came into the shop; there was no trace of a reaction on his face when he saw Pau behind them. Clara was there too. She had been Iversen's driver when they were tailing Remer, and she now stood leaning against a bookcase with her arms crossed and a serious expression on her round face.

  'I think I could use one of those myself,' said Henning, motioning towards Iversen's cognac. 'Anyone else want one?'

  Katherina nodded while the others declined. Henning reached behind the counter and pulled out two glasses, filling each with a generous portion. Katherina accepted the drink gratefully, holding the glass in both hands as if the contents might warm up her fingers.