“Was it only Danes who were stationed on these outposts?”
“The agreement between Washington and Copenhagen allowed the station to be mixed. But the DYE commander and the radar operators were always Americans.”
“Did the Danes have security clearance?”
“Yes, of course they did, though the process wasn’t that thorough based on all the stories I’ve heard over the years about the DYE employees. There were, shall we say, some characters among them-not exactly the sort you’d encourage to wander around a top-secret installation today. In fact, though, the information they could have passed on was probably quite limited. The American Army can rightly be blamed for a lot of things, but being lax about national security is definitely not one of them. Especially not in the middle of the Cold War.”
Simonsen nodded his agreement without completely understanding what the man was talking about. Then he asked, “How many employees were there at a radar station like this?”
“It varied from DYE to DYE. At DYE-5 there were twelve Danes on six-month periods of service. After that they were supposed to be relieved, but often they simply switched to serve a further six months at another DYE. That was one of the reasons many of them became noticeably strange. Some of them were out on the ice for years. At the same time they earned a very respectable salary without having any way to spend the money. When they finally got back to civilisation, things often went very wrong for them.”
“And Maryann Nygaard was one of these workers?”
Pedersen sounded sceptical. It was hard to imagine a pretty young woman isolated for six months with eleven men.
“No, no, that wouldn’t have worked at all. Out here there were only men, but in the American Army there are many crazy rules-and here I’m quoting direct from the colonel himself, who knows what he’s talking about. One of these rules, which was strictly observed, was that once a year all medical equipment on a base should be inspected by a doctor or nurse. So on the thirteenth of September 1983 Maryann Nygaard came out here on such a medical inspection. The work itself was done in a couple of hours and required no contact but when it was time to leave no one could find her. She was missing and remained so, no matter where the men searched. Finally the helicopter had to fly back without her.”
Simonsen interrupted. “Do you know the time of day? I mean, was it dark?”
“No, I don’t know the time, but I expect there will be a comprehensive report available once we get back to Nuuk. I have people working on this there, and they are doing the same in Thule. The Americans have promised me a list of all the men who were at DYE-5 at the time of her disappearance.”
“I would like a copy of that list.”
“You’ll get it. There’s not much more to tell you now. The next day the base sent a large task force out to search the area, but in vain. She could have been buried a hundred metres from the DYE without them having a chance of discovering her. I’m assuming that at some point she was officially declared dead, but I haven’t been able to get that confirmed.”
“Do you know exactly where she is lying in relation to the station?”
“No, unfortunately not. We searched for a couple of hours yesterday to see whether we could find traces of it, but were unsuccessful. The Americans can be amazingly efficient so it’s not at all certain that we will find the exact location, but I intend to try again tomorrow with more people-if that’s acceptable to you?”
The request was directed at Simonsen.
“Of course. And I should add that the Nuuk police have done good work here. I’m impressed by all you’ve found out in such a short time.”
Trond Egede took the compliment with a smile. Then he peered down at the girl and said seriously, “I’ve seen a few murders in my time, but this one gives me the creeps and makes me afraid. I assume you feel the same way. That was probably why you stepped aside earlier?”
Simonsen answered heavily, “No, unfortunately it was something else that made me do that. But this is probably the right time to deal with the unpleasant part. Arne, you’re the youngest, do you mind crawling down to her? I want you to investigate her nails and tell us how they’re clipped.”
The two others instinctively looked down at the woman’s hands, but from where they were standing they could not make anything out. The Greenlander and Simonsen held Pedersen by the arms and took his weight so he could slide carefully down into the grave. He put his head alongside the dead woman’s thigh-first one side, then the other-before he reported.
“She hasn’t cut them herself… no woman would do it like that. It looks like it was done with shears, jerkily and fast. How could you know? Oh, no… ”
The Greenlandic constable had understood too. He stared gloomily down at the sight before him as Simonsen answered: “Because, unfortunately, this is the second time I’ve seen a young woman treated in this barbarous way.”
CHAPTER 3
The skies over Copenhagen were unsettled. Brief, torrential summer showers alternated with sunshine, which quickly dried the streets and enticed people outside-until the next shower drove them back again. The holiday season was ending, but there were still tourists in the city, easy to spot with their ambling gait and slightly too casual attire.
Simonsen was looking out of the window of his office in Police Headquarters, wondering whether he was clinically depressed. It was now forty-eight hours since he had stood on the Greenland ice cap observing the corpse of Maryann Nygaard, and ever since then he had not been himself. For the first time in his long career he was having difficulty concentrating on a case. Although he knew perfectly well that this state of mind resulted from the new case’s connection to another equally disturbing homicide, the circumstances of which now had to be reassessed, this insight did not help him much. He told himself over and over that his reaction was a sign of good mental health, evidence that he was not emotionally burned out, but the fact was that he was barely able to suppress his mental pain and attend to his daily workload. On top of that there was his bad health, which he was finding harder and harder to ignore. For the last couple of days his feet had tingled and ached unbearably; he had given in to cigarettes again; somehow he’d stuck to his diet.
Last night he’d been unable to sleep. Thoughts were still churning in his head when the first birdsong of the day mocked his sleeplessness. His feet-and this was almost the worst thing-would not keep still, no matter how he arranged them. All morning he had solemnly promised himself to schedule an appointment with one of the police psychologists, but like so many of his good intentions nothing had come of it. Instead he made another appointment to confront his guilt later that day. Then he must sink or swim.
“Should I call downstairs and say you’ve been delayed?”
The Countess, who was sitting observing him with a worried expression on her face, sounded determinedly calm. She was fresh-faced, optimistic, healthy. He looked and felt like something you baited a line with to catch fish. When he did not reply, she continued speaking.
“We can postpone the meeting for half an hour, that won’t do any harm. There’s no rush at this point.”
He snarled back, “Let them wait, damn it.”
“Yes, we’ll let them wait a little, serve them right.”
“Why on earth has this become such an attraction? It’s completely crazy. Originally it was simply intended to be an internal update. How can I work if anyone and everyone can just come running to my reviews?”