When Civil Servants Fail

by John Schou

soft for his tongue, but he is still trying.

  Fred arrived. As usual, he did not take off his cap, somehow he preferred to conceal his baldness and you had better not make any jokes of it. After all, I thought, he had had enough time to get used to this game of nature.

  “Keep your jacket on, Fred. I hope you are armed?”

  He confirmed it. Mr. Smith continued, “It is dealing with personal protection of young Mr. Lockwood, who was the target of a murder attempt today, by which his earlier girlfriend was killed. I guess we shall know who the killer was tomorrow, but his arrest may then be delayed. You shall drive with Mr. Lockwood, he will tell you the way home. Before, Mr. Gusto will take Mr. Lockwood’s spectacular car on a small detour towards the Centre. Perhaps somebody is then following it.”

  “If he can find it. I parked my own sledge in front of it,” said Fred, referring to his small FIAT.

  “Eric, you take a taxi home. I’ll see you here for breakfast as usual, and to receive our guest later.”

  I demanded the keys for the red devil and we went out to the Italian cars. I enjoyed the thought of Andrew taking place in the small car, a reasonable revenge for Tuesday evening.

  I made my scheduled sightseeing but do not have the impression of showing Copenhagen to anybody else, so I made it rather short. This car had obvious troubles in keeping the Danish speed limits. I decided, still to try – after all, this was possibly the reason, and a quite understandable one, of the young man’s economical problems.

  In Charlottenlund, Fred and Andrew had already arrived. I said good evening to everybody, gave the car keys back, ordered a taxi and left as it came. At least I was home before midnight, but still too late to call Alice – what would she think of me? I wrote her an SMS, asking her about the weekend. She did not reply. Was she sleeping or angry?

  10 – Kelly’s Mimic

  We had had breakfast and were sitting in Mr. Smith’s office, where I was giving a brief report on yesterday evening as the Doorbell rang. It was Erlandsson. He was in a splendid mood.

  “We caught the fish. Am I the first in company?”

  “Which fish?”

  “Oh, do I know more than Mr. Gusto? Well, expect something exciting.” He was in a childish way happy to know more than I did. And speaking about acting childish, my boss demonstrated that he was not obliged to inform me about crucial improvements in a case where I was doing most of the work, as was generally the case.

  “If you are invited, please enter. If not, please turn around,” I answered bitterly. In the same moment, the long Mercedes turned up at the end of the road. I had expected Mrs. Lockwood to come alone without a car. Instead, the whole family arrived and, as it suits such a car, with a driver, the same I had seen on Wednesday. I waited for them to get out of the car and up the stairs, and then I led them all into the central office with the remark, “Your guests have arrived.” This was a soft rebellion as I was supposed to lead them to the music room until his Excellency gave his permission.

  “All of them?”

  “How can I know, I do not know how many you invited.” In the same moment, the door bell rang again.

  “It must be my boys with our part of the agreement,” Erlandsson reasoned.

  Indeed, it was two policemen with a handcuffed, slim young man between them – at least with his hands in front of the body, a detail which I now observed keenly. That was perhaps not an act of mercy but an indication that the man had already been arrested earlier. They were all three unknown to me. There was also a fourth man, but him I knew: Ivan Petrov, whom we occasionally used for extra jobs. I was aware that Ivan was jealous on me for my job, which was the reason for me to prefer Fred, when just one man was needed. That, in turn, was probably the reason for Mr. Smith to prefer Mr. Petrov when he was inviting any himself to assist us, what fortunately occurred rarely.

  “Welcome to our prison,” I said to the strangers. “We have a strong discipline but the feeding is acceptable.” Ivan smiled while the others looked puzzled.

  In Mr. Smith’s office, all were seated. Mr. Smith opened with a brief presentation: “Most of you know each other already. Here to my right are the police, led by Mr. Erlandsson,” the two policemen remained anonymous, “and Mr. Brian Jones …”

  “Who was arrested this morning, in possession of a gun probably used to kill Miss Brehm,” Erlandsson interrupted.

  Mr. Smith looked annoyed. “Thanks, Mr. Erlandsson, for bringing him here. May I ask you not to interrupt the upcoming procedure?”

  “I am not saying anything without a lawyer,” Mr. Jones busted out. Indeed a high-pitched voice, as you might have expected.

  “That shall be appreciated very much. Should you change your mind, you shall get occasion for a comment later.”

  The young man shook his head and maintained silence.

  “To continue the presentation: In front of me are Mrs. Cynthia Lockwood, Mr. Timothy Lockwood and Mr. Andrew Lockwood. To the right are my assistants, Mr. Ivan Petrov, Mr. Fred Nielsen and Mr. Eric Gusto. I myself am Theodore Smith.” He included a small intermission, underlining the importance of his own name.

  “Mr Timothy Lockwood, do you recognize Mr. Jones?”

  “Yes, he was the one who tried to kill me Tuesday night.”

  Erlandsson looked surprised. “Is it true?” he said to the arrested man. There was no answer, as previously promised by him.

  “So much for the culprit. You will find proofs of his guilt in various objects already in the police’s possession, perhaps including the plastic bag found by Mr. Gusto in the waste-basket in Skodsborg. That is not the reason for me asking you, Mr. Erlandsson, to bring him here. I am interested in the motive.” Mr. Jones looked surprised but remained silent.

  Mr. Smith decided to play the game a bit longer. “Mr. Andrew Lockwood, we assume so far that you were a potential victim. Do you know the accused?”

  “I have never seen him before,” Andrew stated.

  “We shall see. You received an SMS apparently from Miss Brehm while she received one apparently from your mobile. How good did you know her, since you reacted to her call?”

  “I had a brief affair with her in September. Since then there was no contact.”

  “Really? So you owed her nothing?”

  Andrew’s head flushed. “She claimed I did. She was blackmailing me for a statement I made while we were together.”

  “Please keep the content for yourself. Which sum are we talking about?”

  “She wanted to buy an apartment. I should help her with 1 million Danish Kroner”

  “About 100,000 pieces of money,” I translated, with Mr. Smith calculating everything in British pounds.

  “Have you any idea how much you might inherit after your father?” Mr. Smith asked

  “Andrew already asked me to help him with that money while alive,” Mr. Lockwood senior commented. “You can drop it from your list of motives.”

  “Speaking about heritage, how much does Mrs. Lockwood get?” Mr. Smith persisted.

  “Half-half,” the rich man answered. “It is split between the two survivors.”

  “So let me ask Mrs. Lockwood, if you have ever seen Mr. Jones before?”

  Like most naturally red-haired, Mrs. Lockwood’s skin was truly bleak, but now it seemed to become totally white. Something strange happened: Her husband interrupted, “What is the point of this questioning? We do have the culprit. Mr. Jones, have you killed Miss Brehm yesterday and did you try to kill me the other day?”

  Mr. Jones seemed to forget about his reservations and confessed eagerly: “Yes, it was me in both cases. I’m sorry, Mr. Lockwood, may I ask your forgiveness, if possible.”

  Mr. Lockwood seemed eagerly to forgive: “Perhaps I was exaggerating my fear – perhaps it was just a boy’s naughty game.”

  Erlandsson was obviously disappointed over the course this scheme was taking. “What about the killing of Miss Brehm, was that also just a naughty game?”

  “She had called me that
morning and told me, that she had heard Mr. Lockwood’s description of the man who attacked him here by Mr. Smith’s interrogation of the board’s members. She had immediately recognized me. I tried to arrange the event so that Mr. Andrew Lockwood would get the blame. However, he was delayed and as he did not come when the train was about to leave, I used the occasion and shot her. The rest you know.”

  “Not quite. Was Miss Brehm also trying to blackmail you?” Mr. Erlandsson wanted to know.

  “Yes. Further details later. Can we go now?” Brian Jones said eager to get out.

  “I have heard enough,” Mr. Lockwood senior said. “Mr. Smith, thanks for your investigation, send me the bill and I shall be happy to pay it. I am also entitled to thank the other gentlemen for the help to solve this crime so fast and thus relieve me and my family for the looming threat. Come, Cynthia and Andrew, the case is closed,” and the three of them raised and went out, without waiting for further elaboration.

  Mr. Erlandsson also raised in duly respect for the lady, sent Mr. Smith a strained view and, after the Lockwoods were gone, added, “Also on my behalf, I want to thank you for your help to solve the murder of Miss Brehm so rapidly. I am not considering the assault or naughty game on Mr. Lockwood, that’s not my case.” And the police and their prisoner left.

  “Eric, will you take care of payment of two day’s salary to our assistants – and an additional 500 pounds directly for ending the case so fast?”

  I took them to my office and handed both of them 5,000 DKK direct. “You can of course mention it to the tax authorities, but then tell me first.” Both of them just smiled and went.

  I went back to Mr. Smith. “Are you really satisfied with the course, this case has taken?”

  “Very much indeed. I just exclaimed in the room what really happened, but nobody heard me, they were all gone.”

  “It is strange to consider how powerful a woman’s charm can be. I guess her first visit here was just in order to give the impression that the assault on her husband was part of the Kelly came. It is strange how she could fall for this Brian Jones – but it is not exceptional: rich elderly man marries young beautiful woman who then after some time discovers that richness doesn’t compensate for all desires …”

  Mr. Smith interrupted. “Eric, the case is closed. I have agreed with Juanita that you can take the rest of the day off.”

  Which I then did.

  Alice showed understanding for four day’s neglect. I found it important to show her simple attention, that love was something you cannot buy for money. It was strange for me then to see, that she did not find the other aspect unimportant, as she insisted to visit a jeweller’s shop on Saturday before going to an expensive restaurant.

  Later I learned that the Lockwoods had separated. She went far away, to a country where no extradition to Denmark was feared, just in case Mr. Jones should regret his largeness – I feel that the two girls, Mrs. Lockwood and Miss Brehm, were to blame for all the misery, but Alice said it was just a man’s logic always to blame the women. Andrew also changed. He sold his Ferrari, bought a small modest grey car and resumed his studies. The girls of Copenhagen could weep over one playboy less, but he was soon replaced and forgotten.

  And the real Kelly murder? It is still officially a suicide. The whistleblowers are punished and the one’s whose crime they were about to disclose even not.

  Civil Servants

  1 – A Christmas Present

  The days were short, Christmas approaching and the snow fell during one of the short December days but immediately melted when touching the ground. Inside Mr. Smith’s house in Hellerup, he saw nothing of the surroundings – Mr. Smith’s office is in a strange windowless core in his house but I had at least spent some hours in my own room, in vain trying to make up some details of the Swedish coast, before entering the inner temple for a coffee break. In