He was able to clench his teeth as if repressing some bitterness. “No, not completely.”
“Helmer Hammer?”
He shrugged. What could he do except parry her words? Then he added, “If you ask me on tape then I will tell you it was all me. Your little handshake, however, was one hundred percent my idea but my boss approved it later without problems.”
Anni Staal smiled understandingly. She also had bosses who had to be obeyed. He stood up, fetched the coffee, filled up both of their cups, and sat back down again. His guest thanked him and started the tape.
“Let’s just jump straight into things. If there is a question you don’t understand then we’ll talk about it before you answer.”
He nodded. “That’s great.”
“Let me begin by getting right to the heart of the matter. Is it true that the motive for the pedophilia killings is money and that we are simply talking about murder on purely financial grounds?”
Simonsen spilled half his coffee down his pant leg. It was convincing, but hurt like hell.
Chapter 67
Arne Pedersen was in trouble. The two women he was explaining himself to were not listening very carefully. With sarcastic attitudes and skeptical little remarks, they more than hinted that his words were not having the intended effect. Bastard and shithead were not expressions that had a positive influence on the conversation. He went on as well as he was able and no one faulted him for not trying to defend the precarious position his boss had assigned him. He concluded his explanation with additional detail, giving the reasons why it had been necessary to keep the women in the dark for over a day and, in certain contexts, even longer.
The Countess’s eyes glowed with rage and he focused on Pauline Berg, until she poked her tongue out at him. Then he trained his eyes on the ceiling. When he finally fell silent, neither of his listeners said anything immediately, and for a brief moment he hoped that the conversation was over and that he would perhaps be able to slip unscathed back into his own office. But this optimism was not grounded in reality.
The Countess’s voice took on an exaggerated tone, as if she were talking to a child: “Is Simon the one who has sent you out with this drivel? Isn’t he man enough to tell us himself? Why hasn’t he turned up? That interview can’t take all day.”
“He won’t come in, he’s going to be at home for the rest of the day… Dammit, Pauline, stop that.”
Berg had poured a handful of paperclips out of their container and was tossing them one by one at his head. Since the distance was relatively short she could hardly fail to miss her mark, and the last one had struck him in the forehead.
The Countess ignored his exclamation and said, “At home? Is he sick?”
“No, he isn’t sick, he’s just staying home. Maybe he wants to think things over. And drop the injured tone. Simon knows what he’s doing.”
“That’s not the problem. The problem is that we don’t know what he’s doing. And what about you? Do you know what he’s up to?”
Pedersen had to admit the truth. He had been wondering the same thing. “No, I don’t.”
Berg took over. “Tell me again why you haven’t informed us of this before now, but spare me all your superfluous concerns. If you don’t trust us, just say so. Why weren’t we at the meeting on Tuesday?”
“You know, that wasn’t a real meeting. It was a dinner. And there are no guarantees that our plan is going to succeed-oh stop it for God’s sake, Pauline-a lot of things have to line up first. But of course we trust you. Until now you’ve been doing really brilliant work.”
“Idiot.”
The Countess chimed in, “Knucklehead.”
“I need to take a break.”
“Get in line.”
Pedersen turned to the Countess. Despite the fact that their relationship was often somewhat lukewarm, he felt unsettled by the situation. Pauline he could more easily tackle once they were alone.
“Listen, I’m not the one who wanted to keep you out of this.”
“Now you’re being pathetic, Arne, but we’ll let it go. Tell me who got the idea. Was it Simon himself? And who found the intern reporter?”
“It was Kasper Planck. Both of them, Kasper Planck.”
“Hm, I should have guessed. Then there is another thing. I don’t understand why Anni Staal trusts you.”
“Well, that’s not so easy… but… I have a relationship with her.”
Berg exploded, “You have a relationship with that sack of blubber?”
“No, dammit, not that kind of relationship. That is… well, I guess I should tell you how it is.”
He told them how he had been selected by Anni Staal as a potential source because of his gambling, and, compelled by his guilt, he laid it on thick in order to improve the mood. It worked. Berg poured the rest of the clips back into the container. The Countess nodded and returned to the subject at hand.
“So let me see if I understand this correctly. You have planted the traces for the robbery-murder-or whatever we should call it-ahead of time with Anni Staal, and Simon will be forced to corroborate it today in the interview. She will go back to her office and finish her article, but before she gets it printed on the front page she has to have his written permission. Ergo, she sends a copy of the article to Simonsen and the intern reporter will supply a copy of this to Mørk, after which we hope to shake the Climber out of the trees. How that will happen is as yet unclear. And in order to follow our progress we have installed listening devices in the editorial offices of the country’s largest newspaper. In addition, we are unlawfully tapping a journalist’s telephone because a friendly, completely unknown man has fiddled with her connection. Does this cover the situation more or less?”
Pedersen did not like her sober take on the situation but he could not say it was wrong.
“Yes, I guess it does. That part about the phone has only come in later. And Simon also said that you might be against it.”
She heard his comment and stared for a moment out the window, after which she shocked them both: “Damage control, yes, that isn’t completely misguided, and other than an interview with the killer himself, the vigilante group most likely has nothing that could trump this kind of news, but even with source protection they are taking a huge chance.”
“Hardly bigger than the murderer, who assumed that the Langebæk School lay empty during the vacation. Much could have gone wrong there. And the burglary-murder motive will strike them hard, yes, will devastate them. They will lose support everywhere so they’ll have to try something. Simon gives the chance of success for this plan as fifty percent but I think it’s more than that.”
“What about us? How do we enter the picture?” Berg was trying to connect to the more forward-thinking direction that the conversation was taking.
Pedersen explained, “When the intern reporter-her name by the way is Anita Dahlgren-has delivered Anni Staal’s manuscript at Erik Mørk’s company, Simonsen wants her and Malte out of the way. We’re going to send them away for the weekend and you’ll be going along to look after them. Together with a couple of other colleagues.”
He went over the practical details and ignored Berg’s sour expression. Afterward he turned to the Countess to instruct her, but here he was constantly stopped.
“Just drop it. If Simon wants me to take part in this agent setup, then he can come talk to me himself. I should refuse of course, on the other hand I am probably the only one who can live without my salary, now that we will soon all be suspended.”