‘Did you return the child, Pedersen?’
He turned his head and saw Mortensen’s chin. ‘I need to speak to you about Jørgen Emil Lyberth and Kjeld Abelsen. It’s serious.’
‘Really? I’m rather busy today.’
‘But they—’
‘I hope you haven’t upset those fine gentlemen for no good reason?’
Jakob shook his head. ‘No, but they—’
‘Good, then it can wait. I have meetings with the Home Rule Committee, the Greenlandic Provincial Council and the Minister for Greenland, and I haven’t got time to listen to your conspiracy theories. You understand that, don’t you?’ Mortensen rubbed his eyes. ‘We need to put a lid on all that nonsense before the minister flies back to Denmark tomorrow—that’s the way it is. Frankly, it’s like herding cats.’
Jakob shook his head and took a very deep breath all the way down to his stomach.
‘Take Karlo with you, then go and apologise to the girl’s parents,’ Mortensen said. He went back towards his office, but turned around in the doorway to make sure that Jakob had taken his message on board. ‘I mean it.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The air seeped out of Jakob. ‘We will.’
He could smell wet clothes inside the office. His fellow officers, their snow-caked boots, trousers and jackets were thawing in the heat. The steam from the melting snow made the office smell like a damp basement.
‘I’ll keep my coat on, shall I,’ Jakob grunted when, at that very moment, he spotted Karlo, who was waiting for him, already dressed for the outdoors.
The two men went outside and let the snowstorm embrace them. Jakob patted Karlo on the back. ‘The more decorations they get on their shoulders, the less they remember what it means to be a police officer.’
‘The responsibility probably weighs heavily on them.’
‘I wish. No, I think it’s about not wanting to lose what you’ve got, so you switch your allegiance upwards rather than remember those down on the ground.’
‘I don’t think the world is as black and white as you make it out to be.’
‘You may be right, but our boss would rather be a friend to politicians than a protector of children at risk—that much I know.’ Jakob’s voice sharpened. ‘Right, we had better get a move on, although this is yet another deeply idiotic idea. Why are we having to suck up to a rapist instead of pursuing him all the way to hell?’
‘Let’s wait and see how the case pans out,’ Karlo said, looking straight into the hissing polar wind. ‘We still have to solve the murders.’
Jakob leaned towards Karlo. ‘Jørgen Emil Lyberth and Kjeld Abelsen paid me a visit last night. They want us to arrest Thomas Olesen from Block 16 for the murders and close the case.’
‘Thomas Olesen? But surely he has nothing to do with this.’
‘And they know it, but they want the case closed now. They brought with them some thug from the Faroe Islands and they threatened me.’
‘Are you serious? Please tell me you’re not.’
‘I am—although no one will ever believe me. But I’m telling you, they were there, I swear.’
‘Yes, of course. I believe you. So what happens now?’
‘We apologise to that bastard in Block P, and when we get back to the station, Mortensen will tell us to arrest Olesen for the murders.’
‘Mortensen? Do you think that—’
‘It’s entirely political,’ Jakob interrupted. ‘The last thing anyone up here wants is an investigative commission from Denmark turning up while the hullabaloo about the EEC is still a gaping wound and the newly minted Home Rule Committee is trying to find its political feet and its identity.’ He heaved a deep sigh and watched it linger in the cold air as tiny frozen particles. ‘I’m thinking in particular of all the Danish civil servants who have been up here for years, acting like petty monarchs. They don’t want to hand over their power to Denmark, or to a new, independent Greenland.’
‘And Mortensen and Abelsen are two such monarchs?’ Karlo said.
‘You bet they are. And when it comes to politics at that level, some damaged girls and a few murdered men don’t count for much. Until they start to attract unwelcome attention—something that threatens the status of the monarchs, that is.’ Jakob kicked a pebble along the road. ‘There’s something about this case that can bring down Abelsen and Lyberth, and possibly the Minister for Greenland as well. And unless I’m very much mistaken, the crux of the matter has nothing to do with politics and everything to do with the minister, who has a taste for little Greenlandic girls.’
Karlo stopped. ‘What? Are you serious?’
Jakob nodded. ‘I am, but I can’t prove it yet. I…’ He exhaled. The wind was pulling so hard at their clothes that they both struggled to stand still. ‘I think that’s the connection, but right now it’s just a theory.’
Karlo rubbed his forehead and the snow scattered from him. ‘Once this storm dies down, the Minister for Greenland will fly back to Denmark.’
‘I know.’ Jakob shook his head. The gusty snow stabbed his face like icepicks. ‘But there’s not a lot I can do about that. I simply haven’t got the evidence.’
‘And we can’t arrest the three of them purely on a hunch.’
‘I know that too.’
‘So what happens, then?’
The wind took hold of Jakob and he missed a step. ‘It’ll play out like I said. We’ll be ordered to arrest Olesen so that he can be convicted of the murders, and if we don’t, then I’m finished.’
‘And the girls?’
‘No one gives a toss about the girls.’
Block P was starting to emerge from the snowstorm in front of them. Jakob heaved a sign of resignation and glanced at Karlo. ‘We’ll have to see what happens.’
46
Karlo knocked on the door to the apartment they had already visited twice.
Jakob wondered how best to handle the conversation. He couldn’t very well apologise for having kept the girl, because there was no way he was giving her back to such a father. It was out of the question. But then again, Karlo didn’t know that Paneeraq was back at his house. No one knew, nor had the parents reported her missing, which proved Lisbeth’s point.
‘I don’t think they’re in,’ Karlo said, knocking so hard the whole stairwell could hear.
Jakob grabbed the handle and pushed it down. The door made a small click and opened. He looked at Karlo and raised his eyebrows. ‘Let’s take a look around.’
‘Are you sure? After all, Mortensen—’
‘—isn’t here,’ Jakob cut him off, pushing the door wide open and taking a step inside. ‘Something’s wrong.’
Karlo nodded slowly and moved past Jakob. ‘It smells like someone has been hunting.’
The two men looked at one another, and the reality dawned on them simultaneously.
‘Oh, no,’ Jakob exclaimed, and with long strides he followed Karlo into the living room, where he came to an abrupt halt. Anguteeraq Poulsen was lying on the floor in front of them. His intestines had been cut out and left around his body in a bloody circle of death. His skin was gone, except for that on his hands and feet. His facial features had been erased. All that remained were brown muscle fibres and pale sinews. His teeth grinning. Exposed and hysterical.
Jakob raked his hands through his hair, all the way to the back of his neck.
Karlo had already squatted down by the body. ‘Jakob,’ he said slowly. ‘The four men we listed as the worst offenders are all dead now. No one else.’
Jakob stared straight past Karlo and down at the dead man’s forehead. They had both seen it.
‘There’s a piece from your jigsaw puzzle on his forehead.’ Karlo’s voice was hoarse.