‘Meusse doesn’t know the meaning of the term uninformed guess,’ said Münster.
‘Exactly,’ said Reinhart.
Van Veeteren stood up and walked over to the window.
‘Stranglers are not among my favourite people,’ he said, gazing out over Wejmargraacht and the misty-grey Wollerimsparken. ‘There’s something extra unpleasant about a murderer who doesn’t even need a weapon.’
‘Perhaps he’s an Eco-murderer?’ suggested Münster. ‘No environmentally damaging aids needed. All natural and healthy.’
‘For Christ’s sake,’ said Reinhart. ‘If I had thoughts like that I’d seek help.’
‘I’m not saying I’m guilty of anything,’ said Van Veeteren, swirling the wine around in his glass. ‘I’m just saying that if. . if I’d made time to listen to him, maybe two people, and possibly even three, would still be alive, instead of. . Ah well, that’s all I’m saying. Nothing more.’
‘So I gather,’ said Ulrike Fremdli. ‘You’ve explained that three times now.’
‘Have I?’ said Van Veeteren, staring at his glass in genuine surprise. ‘I suppose that must mean I’m going gaga. . This is a very good wine, where did you get it from?’
‘The supermarket in Löhr,’ said Ulrike. ‘It’s Californian.’
‘Californian?’
‘Yes.’
‘The times are out of joint,’ muttered Van Veeteren. ‘I’d have sworn it was Saint-Émilion at the very least.’
‘I don’t think it’s got anything at all to do with going gaga,’ said Ulrike after a while, contemplating him over the top of her reading glasses. ‘You have a policeman’s soul deep down inside you, and that’s what drives you when something like this crops up. And as you often say, if something keeps us awake at night, we have to come to grips with it. No matter what it is. And anything we dream of more than twice.’
‘Is that what I say?’ asked Van Veeteren. ‘I must be pretty brainy.’
Ulrike laughed and stroked his cheek.
‘I like you so very, very much — do you know that? My mature and serious lover.’
‘Huh. Reinhart maintained that I was looking much younger. But in any case, you’re right. And I’m right as well. There’s somebody at large in this town who in all probability has killed three people, and maybe more. With his bare hands. I don’t like it. I wish I could stop thinking about it, but I can’t. . What did you say it was, a copper’s soul?’
‘A policeman’s soul,’ said Ulrike. ‘You could also call it your conscience if you wanted to be pedantic about it. Or your duty. Are you intending to devote all your efforts to this business?’
Van Veeteren emptied his glass and sighed.
‘I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘I might do if they ask me to, but I don’t suppose they dare. . We’ll see. Anyway, while we’re on the subject. . I’ve told you all about this business, but there’s one aspect I’m starting to wonder more and more about.’
‘What’s that?’
‘What’s behind it all. What exactly it was that the priest wanted to tell me, and what made the killer murder three people — assuming the girl is also dead.’
Ulrike took off her glasses and stared up at the ceiling.
‘I can see your problem,’ she said. ‘Something must have been badly wrong even when he came to see you, of course. No, I have no idea. Have you?’
Van Veeteren shook his head and sat in silence for a while.
‘Speaking of coincidences,’ he said eventually, ‘do you know what turned up at the bookshop today?’
He stood up and went to fetch some books from his briefcase in the study. He handed them over to Ulrike.
‘Deter. . The Determinant?’ she said in surprise. That’s what you keep going on about and I can never understand. What’s it all about?’
Van Veeteren thought for a moment.
‘What you’ve just said might be the best way of describing it,’ he said. ‘The tiny driving force that governs everything that happens, although we don’t realize that it’s doing so. Something we don’t have a name for yet. I’m looking for the question whose answer is “life”, as it were.’
‘Rappaport?’ said Ulrike, scrutinizing the covers, one mainly red and the other mainly white. ‘Have you read them?’
‘No,’ said Van Veeteren. ‘I can’t read Swedish, unfortunately.’
21
‘Inspector Baasteuwel from Wallburg. Am I speaking to Chief Inspector Reinhart?’
‘You certainly are. What did you say your name was? Baas-. .?’
‘. . -teuwel. I’m ringing in connection with that strangulation case last summer you were wondering about. I was in charge of it. We got nowhere, unfortunately — but that happens in the best of families.’
‘So they say,’ said Reinhart.
‘Incidentally, I know a pretty young cop in Maardam by the name of Moreno: I met her out at Lejnice last summer. Give her a kiss from me, assuming you haven’t cocked things up and let her slip through your fingers.’
Reinhart thought for a moment,
‘Baasteuwel?’ he said. ‘I do believe we’ve met. Are you small and ugly and smoke like a chimney?’
‘That’s me,’ said Baasteuwel. ‘An IQ of two hundred and ten, and the favourite of all the ladies as well. Where do you reckon we met?’
‘Wernerhaven, if I’m not much mistaken,’ said Reinhart. ‘Five or six years ago. A conference about the reorganization of the police force or some similar crap, I don’t remember exactly.’
‘Aha,’ said Baasteuwel. ‘Yes, I forget the details as well. But I do remember this damned Kristine Kortsmaa case. A sad business. I spent an awful lot of time on it, in fact. . last June, it was, but we didn’t get anywhere. Which annoyed me no end, to tell you the truth.’
‘I’ve read about it,’ said Reinhart. ‘You don’t even have a suspect, is that right?’
‘Not a trace of one. The lady was found dead in her flat. Naked, strangled. As clear as day. She’d been out eating and dancing, picked up a bloke and took him home. There wasn’t even anything to suggest they’d had sex. . The bloody irritating thing is that there were loads of witnesses who saw them dancing at that restaurant. We even had a mock-up image of him to work with, but it didn’t help. Most irritating.’
‘What did he look like?’ asked Reinhart.
‘Quite tall, quite strong, according to what everybody said. About forty or just over, most of them thought. The colour of his hair varied between medium blond and coal black, and some people thought he had the beginnings of a beard. . Obviously it wasn’t easy to build up a good phantom image, but I can fax you the one we used, if you like. If you think there’s any point.’
‘Yes, please do send it,’ said Reinhart. ‘But I’ll keep it to myself for the time being, for safety’s sake. It would be silly to give the team preconceived ideas. I assume you checked back as well — cases similar to that one?’
‘Oh yes,’ sighed Baasteuwel, ‘you can bet your bloody life I did. I rooted around among a few dozen attractive women’s bodies. . Great fun, but no luck, of course. We drew another blank. This girl Kortsmaa had passed her exams the same week as it happened, by the way. Qualified as a physiotherapist after three years of studies — that’s why she was out celebrating. He gave her an excellent present, there’s no denying that.’
‘A lovely present,’ said Reinhart.
‘It would bring great satisfaction into my black copper’s soul if we can catch the bugger this time round, make no mistake about that. Assuming it’s the same swine, that is.’
‘It’s certainly a possibility, to say the least,’ said Reinhart. ‘We’ll do the best we can. Was there anything else?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Baasteuwel. ‘Assuming you really do have all the documentation you say you have. . I’ve scraped together a few thousand wasted working hours, of course, and I can fax you documentation about those if you like.’