Death Comes to Strandvig

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Death Comes to Strandvig Page 10

by Diane Hansen-Ingram


  “Holy Helle? Unlikely. Though I admit, she can be brutal when riled. But, no, I think we can rule her out, unless,” grinned Bent, “she’s so hard up that she’s going to start knocking off villagers just for the extra church services.”

  “Perish the thought! Moving swiftly on… Elvira Lund, Ida’s granny and club secretary? She must be 75 if she’s a day and can hardly get down the bathing steps.”

  Bent chortled, “Elvira? Don’t let the walking stick fool you. I can tell you that, for an old lass, she’s in pretty good physical form.”

  “Oh, good lord, Bent,” said Lea, putting her hands over her ears, “I don’t want to know!”

  “Must be the yoga. I can tell you, that woman can get into all sorts of positions—”

  “Bent, please! I’ll never be able to look Elvira in the eye again!”

  “Might want to take up yoga, yourself, sweetheart. Good for the body. And the mind.” He pointed at the bruise on her thigh and winked. “Or maybe you’ve been up to some yoga yourself lately?” He let his question hang in the air.

  “What do you mean, Bent?”

  “I thought maybe you and Mads—”

  Lea looked straight out the window. “Well, you thought wrong, Bent. Mads is ancient history.”

  Bent whistled. “I saw him with a bunch of flowers on Friday. They weren’t for you?”

  “I told him where to stick them. A leopard doesn’t change his spots, Bent.”

  Bent whistled. “You’ve certainly changed your spots recently, Lea Mus. From a quiet little mouse to a fighting tiger!”

  Lea laughed. “Yes, this year is going to be different, Bent. No more Lea Mus! The quiet little mus has to go!”

  “I’m not sure if I can handle that, Lea Mus. Begging your pardon, I mean, Lea!” He winked. “Anyway, our Mads used to have a key when he lived here. But it couldn’t be him, of course.”

  “No, of course not. He’s just moved back here.” Should I tell Bent about the Kayak Club? But I can’t tell him that Mads wasn’t home that night because he’ll ask me what I was doing there. “Um, so who else?”

  Bent looked out the sauna windows and focused on the horizon. The sky was dark grey this morning, the sea midnight blue and calm. “Kenneth has a padlock key, too. But I can’t remember the last time he opened or closed the club. He’s always so busy with the shop. You’d think that Helle would be reading him the riot act, but she lets him off because he’s so generous with sponsorship.”

  Lea flinched.

  “What’s up, Lea Mus? Surprised that Holy Helle isn’t so holy after all?” grinned Bent. “We all have our little secrets…”

  Lea wasn’t sure what to say or where to start. “Bent, when we were at Strandhøj on Thursday night, I saw Kenneth in the corridor talking to Stig. It was all very secretive.”

  “Stig? Talking to Kenneth?”

  “I know. Crazy, isn’t it. They were in the corridor, and Kenneth was handing over a load of money. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about… Something or other about Stig promising to keep Kenneth’s ‘secret safe’.”

  “Are you sure, Lea Mus?”

  “Of course, it could all be completely harmless,” Lea went on quickly, more in an attempt to convince herself than Bent. “I mean, Kenneth and Henrik are devoted to each other. Right?”

  CHAPTER 32

  Commander Bro ushered her in. “Thanks for coming in today, Lea. We’re talking to everyone who was at Strandhøj Kro that night. Just trying to establish a timeline, there’s nothing to fear.”

  “Of course.” She sat down and tried not to look at him directly. But tried not to avoid his gaze either. Wow, do policemen normally look this good? Bent wasn’t kidding.

  “And you’re a Viking, too?” he said, looking at the list in front of him and then directly at her. Lea could feel a queasy sensation at the bottom of her stomach, her forehead was freezing. “I was a winter bather myself in Odense, before I transferred here. I’m tempted to get back in the water. But no doubt the Vikings have a pretty long waiting list?”

  Lea tried, and failed miserably, to focus. I wonder what he looks like in a towel? With that mop of hair, he probably has a really hairy chest. Note to self: shave legs at earliest opportunity! The cold feeling in her head was being challenged by a heat rising from her cheeks.

  “So, Lea. Just to go over things again. At what time, approximately, did Mads Sørensen leave Strandhøj Kro?”

  “Mads? What’s he got to do with his? He doesn’t even have a key to the Vikings. Not any more—”

  “We’re just trying to piece together who saw Stig Rasmussen last. That’s all. Do you know what time Mr Sørensen left?”

  Lea tried to breathe calmly. “Um, the back of ten, I think. I was with some friends – perhaps they can be more specific.”

  Daniel looked down at his notes. “That would be Bent Bang, Kenneth and Henrik…the Frandsen brothers?”

  “Um, yes, that’s them.” Lea was stopped in her tracks for a second. Wow, even the police don’t know what Henrik’s real surname is.

  “And Mads was alone? You’re quite sure about that.”

  “Yes. He left by the side door – that’s the one that leads straight to Strandhøj car park. He said he was heading to the Kayak Club, that’s where he’s living right now.”

  “Okay, thanks. And there was nothing unusual in Mads Sørensen’s behaviour that night?”

  “Erm, no, nothing I can think of.” Lea wriggled in her seat. Why is it so hot in here?

  “Nothing he did.” Daniel looked at her directly. “Or said to you, perhaps?”

  God, he’s persistent. “Um, no. We only chatted very briefly.”

  “About anything in particular?”

  “Mads has just moved back to Strandvig. He just wanted to say ‘hi’.”

  “So Mads is an old friend then?”

  Lea’s eyes moved to the clock behind Daniel’s desk. “Erm, yes. An old friend.”

  He sat back in his chair and observed her carefully. “I see. And that was the last you saw of Mads Sørensen that night?”

  “Um, yes, that’s right.” Which was true. She hadn’t lied, she hadn’t seen him again. But then again, she hadn’t mentioned that Mads hadn’t been at the Kayak Club when she called… Oh my God, let me get out of here!

  “I see. Okay. Well, great, thanks for coming in, Lea,” he said, standing up and coming over to help her out of her chair. Lea fumbled with her coat and bag and took an awkward step backwards. Daniel put out a hand to steady her. “Here, this is my card. The first number is my mobile. If you remember anything else you can call me,” he said, placing an arm on her shoulder, “day or night, Lea.”

  Lea took the card and rolled her coat and handbag into a ball and exited the room as fast as she could without breaking out into a full sprint. Halfway down the corridor, she could still feel Daniel’s eyes on the back of her neck. And her back. And her backside. Yes, definitely her backside.

  CHAPTER 33

  Why does he never answer his bloody phone? Lea tried calling Bent’s number again. She tried not to imagine what he was probably doing right at this minute. It probably involved a strange position and one – or could that be several – of his harem. Focus! The call went straight to Bent’s answerphone. Yet again. “Well hullo there, ladies! You’ve come to the right place! Bent Bang at your service. I’m busy right now, but leave a message and—”

  Lea decided to leave a message this time. “Hi Bent, it’s Lea. Listen, I’ve just had a call from Kenneth. He’s frantic and wants to meet me. And I had to swear not to say a word to Henrik. Do you think it’s about him and Stig? Anyway, I’m off to the Kro right now. Call me when you can!”

  CHAPTER 34

  Lea and Kenneth sat by the window, with a large platter of Danish charcuterie and cheese in front of them. It was pitch black outside and the candles made a beautiful reflection in the window.

  “Thanks for meeting me, Lea,” said Kenneth, knocking back yet another
glass of Amarone. Lea couldn’t quite see because of the candlelight, but it looked like Henrik’s tongue was beginning to turn purple. Yet another good reason to stick to white, she thought, taking a piece of freshly baked bread from the basket, and coating it with a thick layer of butter.

  “That’s okay, Kenneth. What’s up?” She took a bite and looked down at the bread. “My God, this is good. Are you sure you don’t want a piece before I eat the whole lot?”

  “Oh, no – I couldn’t. Really, I can’t eat a morsel right now. You see, I’ve been so worried. I don’t think I can keep this secret anymore—”

  He stopped talking when Johnny suddenly appeared behind Lea’s chair. “Hi, folks – well, well, well, this all looks very cosy! Does Henrik know what you’re up to, Kenneth? I can keep a secret!”

  Kenneth looked horrified and could only manage a squawk in return.

  “Don’t worry, Kenneth, another glass of Amarone and another basket of bread, right? And for you, beautiful? Your usual white?”

  “Thanks, Johnny, that would be lovely.”

  Johnny leaned over the table and replaced their candles. “To be honest, Lea, I’m a bit surprised to see you here with Kenneth. Didn’t think he was your type. You’re still running after Mads, aren’t you?”

  Lea, completely caught off guard, stared at him in disbelief.

  Kenneth managed to loosen the grip on his wine glass and found his voice. “Johnny, do leave poor Lea alone! You know fine well that that was a long time ago. Please don’t start digging up all that old business, will you? I couldn’t bear it. They’ve both moved on. Haven’t you, Lea? So just leave—”

  “Righty-oh, then. I’ll leave you two alone. To your secrets...” He winked at Lea. “And I’ll be right back with more hot bread!”

  Lea sighed. “Okay, Kenneth, spit it out. What’s all this about? I can’t stand the suspense any longer. And make it quick, before Johnny comes back and pokes his big nose in.”

  Kenneth took a fortifying sip of his wine. “Well, it’s like this. Remember last Thursday—”

  “How could I not? That was the last time we saw Stig—”

  Kenneth took another swig. “I have a little confession to make—”

  The front door opened and the noise level in the Kro dropped immediately. Lea, Kenneth and the other patrons looked round. It was like a scene from a western movie: there was most definitely a stranger in town... It was the Sheriff!

  CHAPTER 34

  Daniel Bro took a quick look around the room. Not because he expected to know anyone in there – it was more an attempt on his behalf to get his bearings and try to ‘blend in’. Not something he was particularly good at. He wouldn’t be staying long (three litres of full-fat milk, a large foil container of liver pâté, a kilo jar of Nutella – bought by his mother for him at a German border shop – and a loaf of organic ryebread were waiting back at his lodgings), so he removed Kystbladet from the magazine rack and sat down on one of the bar stools. Perched on the side, more than sat, his legs longer than those of the average pub punter.

  “Oh, good evening Commander Bro! Here to make an arrest are you? Any news?”

  Daniel looked around. “I’m off duty actually, Mr Holm.”

  “Call me Karsten. Well, well, well, how nice of you to call in. May I formally welcome you on behalf of the wife, Lisbeth here, and myself – Mein Host – to Strandhøj Kro?”

  Karsten was on top form tonight, having just been shown the accounts by Lisbeth. Last year’s takings were the highest ever. And they hadn’t even had the final figures for December. The Christmas season had been especially hard work this time with back-to-back lunches, but it would all be worth it when they were lying on the beach in Phuket at the start of February: two weeks in Thailand, their main holiday of the year.

  Lisbeth beamed and almost curtsied at the sight of the Commander, who was almost double her height. “And what can we get you, Commander, this one’s on us?”

  “Oh, um, right,” said Daniel. Not entirely at ease with the idea of accepting a free drink (or a free anything, for that matter) but, on the other hand, he was keen not to alienate the local community. Something he had learned the hard way in Odense. “That’s very kind of you both, thanks. I think I’ll take a Carlsberg.”

  “Coming right up! How are you liking it here?”

  “Thanks,” said Daniel, taking his glass of lager and lifting it at Ida, then Karsten, “and skål! Well, it’s a bit of a change from Odense – much quieter. But I love being by the sea. Strandvig seems like a good place to live. In fact,” he said, looking around the room, “I was thinking that it might be a good base.”

  “Oh,” said Lisbeth, excitedly, “are you thinking of buying a flat here?”

  “Renting, not buying. Not sure where I’ll be in six months’ time.”

  “Oh, because of your girlfriend? Or wife?” said Lisbeth, fishing.

  Daniel patted the back of his hair. “Erm, no. No girlfriend or wife.”

  “Reeeeeally!” said Lisbeth, a bit too excitedly. “Oh, well you could have knocked me down with a feather! That’s a surprise, isn’t it, Karsten.” She looked Daniel up and down, “We were sure a good-looking man like yourself would have no end of offers…”

  “Well, I don’t really work regular hours and—”

  “I’m sure we can introduce you to some nice local girls. Can’t we Karsten?”

  Karsten winked. “Oh, yes. Plenty of ‘hungry’ ladies around these parts!”

  Daniel made a mental note to avoid the front row bar seats when he came back. If he ever came back.

  Lisbeth was called away to a large table of diners – regulars from the Old Boys’ Badminton league. “Oh, will you excuse me, please, Commander. Plenty of hungry gents around these parts too!” She walked off, all chirpy, notepad in hand, ready to take orders for tonight’s speciality dish of skibberlabskovs. Beef, onion and potatoes gently boiled together with bay leaves and black pepper. Served with thick slices of dark ryebread, butter, diced pickled beetroot and sharp mustard.

  Daniel, in an attempt to divert attention from his private life, tried a new tack. “Are you from Strandvig, Karsten?”

  “Oh, yes, yes, Commander. I was born here, our family goes back generations. But Lisbeth,” he said, waving over to her, “well, she’s from Aarhus.” Karsten lowered his voice and leaned over the bar towards Daniel. “Want to hear a joke?”

  Daniel, who was beginning to get hungry, nodded and picked up a menu. The smell of black pepper emanating from the skibberlabskovs was starting to tickle his nose. Not entirely unpleasant.

  “You’re going to love this one! Two robbers from Aarhus are being chased by the police...”

  Daniel momentarily raised his eyebrows, but quietly sipped his pint and gestured for Karsten to continue.

  “The police are starting to gain on them. So Karl says, ‘Quick, in here!’ and they take a detour into the local sports stadium—”

  Karsten was momentarily interrupted by Ida, asking for a glass of Amarone. “Another one for Kenneth? My, but he’s in a right tizzy tonight. What’s got into him?” Daniel turned around on the stool and spotted Kenneth, who – having failed to physically hide under the table for two – was doing his utmost to hide behind the empty basket of bread. Daniel also spotted Lea and made an awkward half-salute, half-wave in her direction. Lea nodded and Kenneth continued to cower – too frightened to move. Daniel swivelled back to the bar and smoothed down the back of his hair. The Carlsberg seemed to be making a huge, echoing hole in the bottom of his stomach so, dismissing all thoughts of the cold liver pâté waiting for him back at his digs, he asked Ida for a plate of skibberlabskovs.

  Karsten beamed, “Excellent choice!” He scratched his head. “So where was I, Commander? Oh, yeah. So they’re running around the athletics track and Karl is going like the clappers. Like Wilson Kipketer – but pale white and wobbly.” Daniel cringed inwardly. “Karl turns around and sees his mate, Dennis, lagging behind. ‘Hurry up
, Dennis!’ he shouts. The police are right behind you!”

  “Uh huh,” said Daniel, holding his pint to his lips and praying that the end was near.

  “And Dennis shouts back, ‘Don’t worry, Karl. They’re three laps behind!’”

  Daniel sincerely hoped the skibberlabskovs would be more palatable.

  CHAPTER 35

  The Amarone was beginning to work its magic on Kenneth’s nerves. It would, of course, have made for a much cheaper evening all round if he had grasped the thistle by the root and ordered a full bottle from the off. But Kenneth – now on glass number four – wasn’t caring and neither was ‘Mein Host’ Karsten.

  Lea’s cheeks were just as flushed as Kenneth’s. She had limited herself – as she always did on weeknights – to two glasses of white. Watered down with as much water as her bladder could tolerate (why do I have a child’s bladder?!). But the arrival of Commander Bro, together with Kenneth’s bizarre behaviour made her feel guilty. So her body reacted as it always did in such situations. Cue the flush. And here I am, as innocent as the proverbial lamb!

  “Kenneth, come up from behind that basket? What on earth are you doing?”

  “Oh, Lea! Commander Bro is here. He must be on to me!”

  “He is?” She turned around and sneaked another look at Daniel. Sitting there with his long legs and his thick dark hair, maybe he was actually rather–

  “Oh, Lea! I’ve got a confession to make…”

  Lea gulped. As much as she was dying to know exactly what had gone on in the corridor between Kenneth and Stig that fatal night, she really wasn’t ready to hear that her friend was in any way involved in Stig’s death. Accidental or not.

  “I had a meeting with Stig on the night he was killed.”

  “Go on.” There was no need to let Kenneth know what she had witnessed.

  “It was driving me crazy, trying to keep it from Henrik. You know how suspicious he is – a real Sherlock Holmes!”

  A rather portly Sherlock Holmes, thought Lea. “Yes, yes. Go on!”

 

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