“To treat people nicely.”
Troulsen elbowed his way between them from the backseat.
“Look, you two, you’ve got to listen to me. If none of us ordered the pizzas and none of the teachers did, then who was it? Someone must have done it. They were all paid for and the bill was over two thousand kroner. You have to agree it’s a bit mysterious.”
The Countess tried to placate him by agreeing that it was strange. She wanted to hear more about the guard.
“Listen, the pizzas were apparently ordered for a party, and we sure wouldn’t have ordered them for a party. The staff doesn’t know about any party either. The school secretary was sure about that.”
Simonsen suddenly became alert and almost shouted, “A party, you say. When was the order placed?”
“Well, at first I assumed it was sometime today but the delivery boy said they were out of pineapple, so three of the pizzas were different than ordered, and that indicates that they were ordered earlier. Otherwise they would have had to choose something other than pineapple when the initial order was placed.”
“Look into it, Poul. You, personally. Find the pizzeria, where it is, when they open.”
Troulsen had been struggling all evening to get his pizzas taken seriously, and now they were being taken almost too seriously. He answered meekly, “Okay, Simon. I will.”
The Countess wasn’t on board.
“What’s all this about?”
“About criminal foresight, I believe. But let’s wait for further discussion until the morning.”
Which made no one the wiser.
Chapter 10
Helle Smidt Jørgensen doesn’t scream. It doesn’t help any. Instead she whimpers like an abused puppy, a soft little Labrador with black fur; she buries her face in the fur to hide; the dog sleeps with her; the dog always sleeps with her, it’s her dog; she dreams that she wakes up; she’s drenched in sweat and her nightgown is damp; she tosses the pillow aside, she has no use for it; one Sunday in summer, a family breakfast in the community garden; the table is set outside in the beautiful weather; the flag is raised; everyone is happy except her, her and the dog; they have to wake up and go; they have to get out of bed and find the pills; psychopharmaceuticals; fear is a normal reaction; Uncle Bernhard is sitting at one end of the table; the children are playing on the grass; she is not playing; she is grown-up; fifty-three years old, a fully trained nurse, nurse Helle Smidt Jørgensen, that’s what it says on the name tag; anxiolytika; fear is made up of psychic, bodily, and behavioral symptoms; she hunches over and smiles because she is an adult, a grown-up nurse; Uncle Bernhard is assistant mayor, a grownup assistant mayor; the dog lies down next to her; the dog is hers; you can bury your face in a dog; benzodiazepine; fear is an important survival mechanism when the organism is faced with danger; she is not in danger; she has the rest of the group; Stig Åge Thorsen and Erik Mørk protect her; Per Clausen slays fear; the Climber murders the night; Grandfather suggests that they sing, everyone loves to sing; she tells Grandfather that he is dead; and Uncle Bernhard is dead; and the dog is dead; her dog who sleeps next to her; and everyone is enjoying themselves; and Uncle Bernhard gets the banjo; Lexotan; anxiety disorders can be mitigated with psychopharmaceutical treatment.
They sing; Uncle Bernhard sings baritone; everyone likes Uncle Bernhard; Uncle Bernhard sings beautifully; Uncle Bernhard becomes mayor; Uncle Bernhard is handsome; everyone knows that Uncle Bernhard is handsome; three milligrams three times a day; she wakes up, goes out into the kitchen, the glass is on the shelf, she has to have three milligrams, three times three milligrams, three times three times three hundred milligrams, now! quickly, as soon as she wakes up; before the singing, she has to get up before the singing; everyone is quiet; everyone is looking at her; Uncle Bernhard is smiling, Uncle Bernhard smiles sweetly; Uncle Bernhard is nice when he smiles; Uncle Bernhard sings her song; it is a foreign song; only she and her uncle Bernhard understand foreign; Uncle Bernhard sings her foreign song; only she and Uncle Bernhard understand her song.
Be my life’s companion and you’ll never grow old.
She is grown. Fifty-three years old.
I’ll love you so much that you’ll never grow old.
She is a nurse. She is strong.
When there’s joy in living you just never grow old.
She doesn’t need to be afraid. She has pills.
You’ve got to stay young, ’cause you’ll never grow old.
The song reaches out for her; the song embraces her; the daughters of the night rage in the sunlight; the song drives the dream away; the sun disappears, and the flag, the table, Grandfather, everything disappears; the bed is gone; the nurse is gone; it is dark; it is quiet; there is fear; she hides her face in the dog; she hears steps; she is so little and the steps are so heavy; panic can be mitigated with psychiatric or psychotherapeutic treatment.
Therapy chases away the anxiety; Uncle Bernhard chases away the dog.
She feels his moist breath on her neck; she can smell his brilliantine.
She hears him panting; she feels his fingers open her.
Helle Smidt Jørgensen doesn’t scream. It doesn’t help.
Chapter 11
The young man’s fingers flew over the keys so fast that it sounded like a strip of cardboard in the spokes of a child’s bicycle wheel. The Countess looked up from her reading and watched him surreptitiously as he worked. He was a curly-haired youth with blue eyes and an open face; he had a slender build, with a fashion sense that she could characterize only as unique. His downy upper lip held the beginnings of a mustache, but when he smiled it was difficult to suppress an urge to stroke his curls and want to rescue him from a cruel world that at best offered him only minimal chances for survival. Or so it seemed to her.
Malte Borup looked up as if he felt her gaze, and his hands hovered above the keyboard.
“That good-looking one, is she also a cop?”
“Her name is Pauline, and yes she is. As she told you.”
“That’s true, she did. I was using my eyes more than my ears.”
“You’re not the only one.”
“What about the other one? The one with… well, the other one.”
“She is a psychologist who will be participating in the discussion.”
“What’s she done?”
“Nothing. How is my laptop doing?”
“It’ll be ready soon. I’ve sent a text message to the one with the beard. The strange one… one moment… I’ve got him here.”
Her address book popped up on the screen. The computer worked as a natural extension of his thoughts.
“Poul Troulsen. I’ll have to learn these names. He went to McDonald’s, isn’t that right?”
“A pizzeria. What did you write?”
“I just asked if he wanted to bring a couple of sodas back with him. Was that bad? I’ll pay him back.”
“No, that’s all right, but I don’t think he reads his text messages.”
He glanced at the screen, realized there was no help to be had there, and shrugged.
“We’ll go back to HS tomorrow. There’s a canteen there where you can buy soda.”
“Sweet. Will I meet the boss? That fat guy. I saw him on TV.”
“You’ll meet him today, but don’t call him fat.”
“Not fat. I meant slightly overweight.”
“Don’t call him fat, and don’t call him overweight.”
“Okay.”
“His name is Konrad Simonsen and he’s in the gymnasium with a guest. Maybe we can catch him before he heads back to the city.”
Malte Borup stiffened. Like a frozen computer screen.
“I’d rather not see any corpses. I really don’t want to, unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“And you won’t. The bodies were transported to lab a long time ago.”