Alex didn’t think he needed an answer to that question. He briefly outlined what he had come up with.
‘I was wrong about the motive, but I think I’m right about our killer,’ he said.
‘I agree. Saul Goldmann is our man. What do we do now?’
There was only one possible response. As if in a trance, Alex turned and gazed out of the window. Even more snow, even lower temperatures.
Where was Polly Eisenberg?
‘We go to the prosecutor and we bring in Saul Goldmann.’
‘And Mona Samson?’
‘I’ll put out a call on her. I want an end to this.’
The tempting aroma of coffee found its way into Peder’s office. He had just been out, and there was snow on his clothes and in his hair. If it hadn’t been so warm in the community centre, he would have been worried about getting sick.
They were still taking plenty of calls from anxious members of the community. The idea of temporarily closing the Solomon school had been discussed, but Peder had advised against it. Instead he had increased security at the school entrance and had held a meeting that morning to go through safety issues with the staff.
Peder Rydh hated being on the outside. And he had probably never been more of an outsider than he was right now. He had heard nothing from Efraim Kiel. Contact with Alex was sporadic. His former colleagues in the National Crime Unit didn’t answer when he called.
And yet it was Peder who had cracked some of the key issues in the investigation. If they had listened to him earlier on, they might have had the chance to move Polly Eisenberg to safety before she was taken.
Peder didn’t understand the background to what had happened, nor did he know whether the police had any suspects in mind at this stage. They should have, in his opinion, because they were running out of time. He was certain that Polly didn’t have many hours left to live – not if she had been abducted by the same person who had killed her brother.
As far as Peder could see, the idea that they were dealing with two perpetrators was beyond all reasonable doubt, otherwise the timeline just didn’t work. Two killers with very different temperaments. One took his time. Planned a structured approach. Abducted his victims, then murdered them at a later stage. The person who had shot Josephine from the roof hadn’t had that kind of patience, which worried Peder.
Why had the attempt on Polly Eisenberg’s life been so different from the murder of her brother?
Shot in the street, in broad daylight. Protected only by the falling snow.
It just wasn’t logical, bearing in mind how the perpetrator had acted the second time he approached Polly. She had been in the park, tobogganing with a friend. Why not try to shoot her there? Or had the killer abandoned his attempts to end her life in front of witnesses after the previous failure?
Peder went into the kitchen to make himself another cup of coffee.
He still believed they were looking for two killers, one who had concentrated on the boys, the other on Polly. Or was it just his imagination? If he thought about how the crimes had actually been carried out, it seemed more likely that whoever had abducted the boys had also taken Polly. Perhaps he or she had disapproved of the actions of the sniper on the roof and decided to go it alone.
But in that case, why hadn’t they found Polly?
Her brother had been killed less than twenty-four hours after he disappeared. Peder thought the idea that the perpetrator might have murdered Polly then hidden her body was out of the question. That wasn’t how either of the killers operated.
Which meant she was still alive.
He took his coffee back to his office.
If Polly was still alive, it was necessary to ask a difficult question: why wasn’t she dead?
Because it was never the intention that anyone other than the boys should die.
Intuition could lead anyone astray, but this time Peder was sure he was right. Polly’s abduction just didn’t fit in.
The first incident was so neat and tidy, so symmetrical. Two boys of the same age. Both abducted at the same time, both found shot dead in the same place. Polly wasn’t part of that picture, unless you took into account the fact that the Goldmanns had only one child. If the aim was to leave both sets of parents childless, then Polly had to be dealt with.
But why such a different MO in each case, if the children were going to be killed with the same gun anyway?
It didn’t make sense. It just didn’t.
Almost without realising what he was doing, he picked up his phone and with practised fingers found Alex’s number.
Alex sounded stressed.
‘Peder, I haven’t got time to talk right now.’
He could feel the pulse, the adrenalin coming from Alex, and felt a fresh surge of envy. He was so tired of being on the outside.
‘I can call back later – it’s just an idea I had.’
‘You know I’m happy to listen to you, but things are a bit hectic here. Was it something important?’
Peder hesitated, unsure whether what he had to say would qualify as important.
‘It’s just something that occurred to me. About Polly Eisenberg.’
He noticed a sudden stillness in Alex.
‘Tell me.’
Peder put his doubts to one side; he had nothing to lose by saying what he thought.
‘I believe she’s alive. That’s why you haven’t found her.’
‘Right.’
Alex sounded disappointed, as if he had expected Peder to come up with something better.
‘Actually,’ he went on, ‘I’ve been thinking along the same lines. That we still have time.’
‘You misunderstand me. I don’t believe she was meant to die at all.’
‘You’ve lost me,’ Alex said. ‘You were the one who came up with the idea that the sniper hadn’t meant to kill Josephine.’
‘Exactly. But I’m wondering if you’re looking for two perpetrators, with a different agenda.’
He was already starting to wish he hadn’t made the call. His ideas were too premature to share with someone else; they sounded ridiculous when he put them into words.
‘A different agenda?’ Alex said. ‘Peder, if you know who these people are, you have to tell me.’
‘Are you crazy? Of course I don’t know who they are,’ Peder said, his cheeks flushing with a sudden spurt of anger.
What the hell was Alex thinking?
I’m on your side, Alex. I’ve never been anywhere else.
He tried again.
‘I’ve been thinking about how the different crimes were committed. There was an enormous margin of error for whoever lay on the roof and shot Josephine. The weather was terrible; it was snowing and visibility was poor. Only a real sharpshooter could have taken on a task like that and succeeded.’
He could tell that Alex was listening now.
‘Go on.’
Peder went over what he had come up with so far. How well planned the murder of the boys seemed in comparison with the attempt on Polly’s life. How strange it was that Polly still hadn’t been found.
When he had finished, Alex remained silent for a little while.
‘I will get back to you,’ he said eventually. ‘And I’m glad you called. But right now the evidence is pointing in a different direction.’
‘Can you tell me anything?’ Peder said, with a certain amount of pessimism; he knew what Alex was going to say.
‘Not at the moment, but we’ll talk later. Your support has been invaluable, Peder. I won’t forget that.’