by Sara Blaedel
They had to brake on their way down the hill to Helvigstruphuset, a lovely thatched cottage with a water pump in the yard. Previously, it had been completely primitive, without electricity or running water, but now it had been fixed up and functioned as a summerhouse. Their bike tires kicked up small stones. Jonas passed her, but waited until he was down the hill before braking hard, so his back wheel slid out and sent gravel spraying up in a great cloud.
Farther on they passed the fir plantation, where the roe deer went around and bit the tops off the trees. Louise caught sight of a large buck before they’d made it all the way there. She got Jonas to stop so they could enjoy him a little before he saw them.
What Louise loved about Bistrup Forest was that you mostly had it to yourself. She knew every forest road, every trail, every shortcut. And when she’d been in the city too long, it was Avnsø Lake she longed for.
Now the buck lifted his head. Sniffed and pointed his ears in their direction, and then he sprang. So elegant. You could see the tensed muscles under his short, grayish brown hair.
When they turned off for the lake, black and deep in between the trees, Louise’s cell phone started to ring in her pocket. The lieutenant’s name glowed in the display.
“I’m sorry to bother you on vacation,” he said quickly. “But I thought you’d want to be kept in the loop. We’ve just gotten a report from the crime techs concerning the gas can you found in the back of Britt Fasting-Thomsen’s Golf.”
Louise jumped off her bike. Jonas was already down at the lake throwing stones in the water.
“It’s the same color and brand as a matching gas can that was found a few feet away from the fire site. A German brand that Aldi had in their flyer last week. Willumsen is ready to get started on an interrogation and a search of the home out in Svanemølle.”
Louise swept her hand through her hair, which was matted and ruffled and blown about her head. Her bike was propped against her right thigh, and she was breathing heavily.
Damn it all to hell, she thought, and heard Jonas call from down at the lake.
“I’m coming in,” she said. “There can be lots of reasons why she had a perfectly ordinary gas can that anyone could have gotten hold of over the course of the week. Couldn’t you get Willumsen to hold off until I’m back in the city?”
Suhr laughed on the other end.
“You know him! I think he’s planning on doing the interrogation himself.”
Hmm, yes, he would, thought Louise.
The lieutenant told her that Sejr was about to go through some old vouchers in Nick Hartmann’s papers, and Toft and Michael Stig were trying to track down the furniture manufacturer out in Hong Kong.
“So, it’s only Willumsen who’s free, and I think he’s looking forward to a chat with Britt Fasting-Thomsen.”
Right, Louise could imagine that.
She sighed and tried to collect her thoughts.
Jonas called again, and there was the sound of a large stone splashing.
“Suggest to Willumsen that he have a talk with Ulrik Fasting-Thomsen instead, and find out how he knows Nick Hartmann. He was away when I wanted to talk with him. Then I’ll talk with Britt.”
She turned her bike and started heading back up the hill.
“Sounds like I shouldn’t have called. I didn’t mean to interrupt your vacation!” her boss said with a dry laugh.
Shit yeah, she thought.
“No, you should definitely call,” she said.
If Suhr had felt it was a terrific idea to put Britt through Willumsen’s wringer, Louise thought, then he damned well wouldn’t have called and warned her.
The lieutenant had enough empathy and understanding to want to spare Signe’s mother from that fate. At least until it was certain she was connected to what had happened down at the harbor.
* * *
Louise called Jonas, and while they climbed up the hill, she apologized for having to drive back into the city.
“Do you want to go with me, or would you rather stay here?” she asked and looked at him as he pushed his bike up.
“Couldn’t I just go to Mik’s by myself?” he asked, apparently very interested in going back and seeing the puppies before they disappeared with their new families.
Best not, she thought, not very eager for those two to form an alliance that would make it even harder for her to keep her decision.
“He has to work, too,” she reminded him.
“Yeah, but he usually comes home early,” he said.
He’s right about that, thought Louise. There weren’t nearly as many long days for the police in Holbæk.
“I could take the train, if he’d rather not pick me up,” he suggested as they biked home.
“Couldn’t you wait, and we’ll go up there together some other time?” Louise said.
She hit a big hole in the forest road and she nearly lost her balance.
“Then the puppies wouldn’t be there,” he said, trying to hide his frustration behind a polite, friendly manner.
* * *
“She’ll give you the run-around,” snarled Willumsen, irritated when Louise reached Police Headquarters.
She’d abandoned her Saab along the curb without taking the time to get a parking sticker for it.
She didn’t answer him.
Willumsen closed the door to his office behind them and pointed to a chair over by the window.
“Shouldn’t you just take some time off, now that things are heating up,” he muttered with his back to her and walked around his desk to sit down.
He picked up some papers and looked at her.
“I want an explanation for why Britt Fasting-Thomsen suddenly has a spare can that’s a perfect match to the one we suspect held the flammable liquid that set the fire, when she by her own admission does not keep a spare can in the back of her car, or even own one.”
Louise nodded. She agreed that it would be useful to have an explanation on that matter.
“I didn’t get the sense she was trying to hide anything when I was there on Friday,” she said, adding that Britt didn’t, on the other hand, say very much while she was there. “I can drive over to her right now.”
The lead investigator nodded and took a deep breath before leaning forward a bit.
“I know perfectly well what Britt Fasting-Thomsen has been through,” he said. “But if a thirst for vengeance has made her set fire to the boathouse and burn the two young people in there to death, then we need to get hold of her.”
Louise nodded.
“Yes, but the boys were thrown out of that boathouse. How could she know that anyone was lying in there asleep?”
“That’s not for me to answer. I just want to know how she suddenly got a spare can in the back of her car, if it’s not something she usually drives around with,” said Willumsen. “Any deviation from the normal is interesting right now. It’s actually the most important thing. And if we get a reasonable explanation, then fine.”
Louise stood up and started walking for the door.
“By the way, her husband is on his way in here,” he added as she was reaching for the knob. “I have an appointment with him in a quarter of an hour, and so hopefully we’ll learn a little more about Nick Hartmann and that business he had going.”
Louise was about to close the door behind her when Willumsen tossed out the news that Lars Jørgensen had just extended his sick leave.
“So, he’s not ready for us to start pulling him back yet,” he said, referring to her parting comment on Friday.
“How long?” Louise asked out of curiosity and took a couple of steps back into the office.
“To start with, fourteen more days.”
Oh, hell, she thought, feeling bad for her partner. She hadn’t called him, even though she’d thought of it several times, but something always got in the way. And given the pace at which her days rolled by, she didn’t have much energy left for collegial care. She had to get around to calling him, or else he’d e
nd up feeling that the entire Homicide Department had turned their backs on him.
The expression on Willumsen’s face turned hard again.
“My recommendation is that he look for another department. He’s asked to be put on reduced hours, so he can hold things together at home. But I’ve denied the request. We can’t work with that kind of thing around here.”
“We could at least try,” suggested Louise and instinctively took a step back.
“Yes, we could indeed. We could also try to push for having a playroom installed in the basement, so all the staff could bring their kids to work with them when they don’t have someone to watch them,” he said. “Or, maybe, every department should get its own nanny.”
She looked at him and felt irritated, but wouldn’t be provoked.
“There might be room for a little flexibility without harming anything,” she said.
“People should think a little before they apply for a job like this—especially if they have children.”
Louise shook her head at him. The lead investigator had always had it easy. His daughter, Helle, was nearly grown up, and it was his wife, Annelise, who’d taken care of her when she was a girl. He had no idea what it was like to have that responsibility and manage a household. Annelise had a part-time job at the Church Mission, where she sold used clothing three days a week, so he ought to shut up, she thought. And then there were the periods when his wife had been sick, hit with several bouts of stomach cancer. During those months, Willumsen had left early to take her to the hospital for her chemo.
But that was obviously something different, she thought, starting to close the door again.
“When you’re finished over on Strandvænget,” Willumsen continued, “it might be worth looking into whether any of the other three boys feel that they’ve been harassed by Britt Fasting-Thomsen after the party down at the sailing club.”
“Harassed!”
Louise turned to him.
“Maybe you should go out and talk to her yourself,” she said. “Listen, she’s going through hell. She can’t even take care of herself. The whole house is practically covered in dust, and she spends most of her time up in her room in bed.”
She paused a moment, then she collected herself enough to say that it would become him to be just a little bit sympathetic.
“Even her husband admits she’s changed since their daughter’s death. It’s not something I just sat around and came up with,” he said. “Hell, I’ve never met the wife.”
No, exactly, Louise thought and left.
“If she can’t answer for herself, then I’m sending a team out to search the house,” he yelled after her. “Then they could look for that Aldi receipt. And rags like the ones that were wrapped around the firewood and thrown in to ignite the boathouse and warehouse. What do I want? Whatever will get us something more on her.”
Louise didn’t even stop by her office before leaving the department and driving out to Svanemølle.
36
Once again, they sat in Britt’s kitchen. This time without coffee and with dirty dishes in the sink.
“I really don’t know where the gas can came from,” said Britt.
“What does Ulrik say? Does he know anything about it?”
Louise looked at her patiently. There was no resistance to detect, but no help from her, either.
“He’s never seen it before, either. But he says we need to get hold of a lawyer if the police keep thinking that I had something to do with the fire.”
“Let’s just see,” Louise said to calm her. “But it would be an enormous help if you could think of anyone who could confirm that you stayed home all evening. As long as we don’t have any other leads, I can’t cross you off the list, and I need to have your activities accounted for.”
It seemed as though Britt didn’t grasp the seriousness. The whole time there was a distance in her tone of voice, as if Louise’s questions really didn’t have anything to do with her.
Louise had already asked if Britt had spoken with anyone on the telephone. But she hadn’t. Otherwise, that would have been enough to confirm that she’d been in her house. It wasn’t enough to check the cell tower, because she could have left her cell phone sitting at home.
“Did you send or receive any texts?” Louise asked and looked at her.
“I don’t think so, but you’re welcome to look.”
She stood up and got her cell phone, which was lying on the buffet in the living room.
Louise watched her come back. Despondency weighed so heavily on her that she seemed not to care, leading all of Louise’s questions to a dead end.
There were no new messages on her cell phone.
“I didn’t do anything other than lie up in my bed,” she said.
She sat down on the chair and folded her arms across her chest.
“I don’t care to be in touch with anyone. My thoughts were on my daughter, and I had a bunch of images in my head that occupied me. I fell asleep quickly.”
Louise knew everything that Flemming had told her must have set a lot of thoughts in motion. She still felt that the medical examiner had been too detailed. It was much too painful for a mother who’d just lost her daughter.
“Did you watch anything on TV? Can you remember any programs from Thursday?”
Britt leaned over the table a bit and looked at Louise.
“I’ve stopped watching TV,” she said with a serious look in her eyes. “You have to understand, for me the world came to a halt three weeks ago. I don’t keep up with anything.”
Louise struggled to hold back a growing irritation, and instead tried a new approach.
“Should we take a look at your computer? If you, for instance, e-mailed with Camilla or were on Facebook around midnight, then it couldn’t have been you down at the harbor, and we could rule you out of the investigation.”
Britt nodded slowly and stood up.
“You’re welcome to have a look, but I was lying asleep.”
Now she was the one who seemed irritated, as if Louise had a hard time understanding what was being said to her.
Louise left her things in the kitchen and followed Britt out through the living room and up the stairs to the second floor. The steps had carpeting held down by thin brass strips. They came up to a wide landing that was furnished with a cabinet and a several-feet-tall mirror with an ornately carved brass frame. The style was elegant and yet modern. In a nook with natural lighting, there was a large, winged armchair in worn cognac-colored leather, and on the table, there was a stack of old business sections from a variety of newspapers.
They walked down to the room at the end. It was a large bedroom with a white-brick balcony beyond the multi-paneled double doors. Before they made it all the way there, they passed Signe’s room. Her name was on the door, but it was closed and Britt walked right by without looking at it. Inside her own bedroom, she pointed to a glass desk over by the window, with a view of the water.
“Ulrik has his own office down on the opposite end. That’s my computer over there,” she said and nodded to a white Mac. “There’s no password, so you can just go in.”
The room was light, and a pair of large skylights over the bed made Louise look up.
“They’re rain-sensing,” said Britt. She explained that you could lie and fall asleep under the open sky, and if it started to rain the windows would close by themselves. “I usually lie here in bed and look up at the sky.”
Louise walked over and opened the Mac’s e-mail folders. She quickly confirmed that there was only spam coming in and nothing going out over the course of that night.
“Can’t you think of anything? It doesn’t make any difference what, just as long as it shows you were home all evening,” she said desperately.
Britt sat on the edge of the bed with her chin on her chest, as if she were about to fall asleep.
“It’s awfully nice of you,” she said.
She straightened up and leaned back a little, her wei
ght resting on her arms.
“I know you’re trying to help me. But I was here all evening and all night. I have no witnesses for it, and there’s nothing more to be said. I can’t stamp my feet and conjure up someone who doesn’t exist, so I’ll have to take it from here and be forced to get hold of a lawyer, like Ulrik says.”
Louise nodded and closed the Mac.
“That may be a good idea,” she conceded as they walked down the stairs together.
When they said good-bye in the entryway, Louise felt a heaviness inside her. There was a striking indifference behind the fine features of Britt’s face; the blood vessels at her temples were visible. As if she’s tossed in the towel, thought Louise. She felt a little miffed that of the two of them she seemed to be the one more interested in finding an alibi for Britt Fasting-Thomsen, and a plausible explanation for how a gas can ended up in the back of her car.
Willumsen had sent a message that they’d gotten a search warrant, and that Toft was on his way out there with three officers. There wasn’t really much more Louise could do to help Signe’s mom.
37
She drove down along the harbor and in past the Power Station, her thoughts circling around Britt. She understood perfectly well that it was time to let go of their private relationship, or else make things even more complicated if she was going to stay on the case. But it was hard not to worry about her.
Willumsen called her cell, but she let it lie on the front seat and buzz, didn’t have the energy for him.
She turned right and crossed the train tracks on her way up to Strand Boulevard, waited at the light until she could swing to the left, then slowed down and kept her eyes on the house numbers on the opposite side. Before everyone got carried away with their own ideas, she wanted to find some of the boys on her way back and hear whether they knew anything about that green gas can down at the harbor.
She rang for Vigdís Ólafsdóttir and Jón Vigdísarson’s apartment, even though he was in school and possibly hadn’t even come home yet. A woman’s clear voice said hello, and soon after the door buzzed open.