The Girl in the Ice aka A Price for Everything

CHAPTER 51

On his way out of the Ministry of Justice the head of DSIS approached Konrad Simonsen. He said in a quiet voice, “We need to talk. Now!”

Simonsen agreed; it was what he had expected. And hoped for.

“We can walk over to HS, and talk on the way.”

The head of DSIS considered this and then shook his head.

“Bad idea. Do you know Agnete and the merman?”

“If you mean the underwater sculpture in Slotsholmen Canal, then yes.”

“We’ll meet there in ten minutes, I have a place in the vicinity where we can talk undisturbed.”

Out of habit Simonsen glanced at his watch, but his objection about lack of time remained stuck in his throat. The head of DSIS turned and left.

Fifteen minutes later Simonsen and the Countess were waiting at Højbro Plads. The Countess studied Suste Bonnén’s sculpture below them. Simonsen was watching with irritation for the head of DSIS, stressed about the time they were wasting. When he arrived shortly afterwards, he did not comment on the Countess’s presence. Instead he led them across the street at a forced march. Simonsen noted how he struck his heels hard against the asphalt as he walked, and thought that this must be a military habit. He tried to keep up and hoped that the walk would not be long.

A short distance down Højbro Plads, right across from Vilhelm Bissen’s statue of Bishop Absalon, the head of DSIS guided them to the right and through a gate. Here he cut across a small courtyard flanked by old warehouses, now renovated and converted to luxury apartments, and over to a main door where he quickly acquired access with a card and pin code. He turned on the light and asked them to sit down. There were paintings and lithographs all over the place: leaning up against the walls, on the central table that dominated the room, and in piles on the floor. The Countess guessed this was a storeroom for a gallery.

Still out of breath, Simonsen said, “Although I’m sure this is important, I must be back at HS very soon. And by the way, thanks for your support at the meeting.”

The head of DSIS smiled. That was seldom seen. The man was not socially inclined, and stories about his reserve were legion.

“It was nothing. I assume you are clear about what we got permission to do in there? If it becomes possible and necessary.”

“Yes, thanks. It had occurred to us both.”

The head of DSIS looked at the Countess as he spoke. She slowly put the unpleasantness into well-considered words.

“Helmer Hammer just gave us carte blanche to cut Andreas Falkenborg into little pieces to get him to tell us where he has concealed his two victims. So long as no one knows about it. A week ago he told us in great detail about Nils Svenningsen’s atomic letter, and how the top official at the time controversially gave permission without expressing himself directly. Well-from that we are meant to infer that if it is kept secret, we can in a literal sense put the thumbscrews on Falkenborg.”

“Exactly. And presumably you are also aware that that message was the only reason the meeting was held at all? The other idiots were just props to cover Helmer Hammer and his ministry if something goes wrong. Apart from Bertil Hampel-Koch, naturally. You might almost think that Helmer Hammer is somehow dependent on you, but that doesn’t concern me of course. The next question is obvious. Do we intend to make use of our… shall we call it, new tool… if it comes to that?”

Simonsen had expected the question and answered without reservation.

“If it’s the only way out, then clearly yes.”

Both men looked at the Countess. She asked the head of DSIS, “Tell me first how you come into the picture. Were you informed of this in advance?”

“Of course not. I’m in the picture because I was invited to the meeting. I’m simply reacting as was expected of me. Tell us then what your attitude is. Are you also prepared to bring out the rack if there are no other options?”

She held his gaze.

“If it can save Pauline’s and Jeanette Hvidt’s lives, then without the slightest hesitation. But under no circumstances as revenge or punishment.”

The head of DSIS clapped his hands.

“Then let’s consider the matter settled. Now we only lack how and when. Let’s take the latter first. I can have my people ready within the next two hours, and they will put an iron ring around him so he will soon be tracked down. I just don’t understand why this didn’t happen long ago. You know his appearance, you know his car, he is being searched for everywhere, and still he’s been roaming free for over twenty-four hours and apparently moving around the Copenhagen area at will. What in the world is happening here?”

The question was directed at Simonsen, who winced. Nevertheless he answered frankly.

“I don’t know, but we wonder too. Unfortunately his appearance is very ordinary, as they say, but he ought to be located today. We are beginning to think that perhaps he has acquired another vehicle or possibly uses public transport. Despite the fact that the psychologist is convinced of the opposite.”

“If you don’t find him soon, it won’t matter. If that’s not already the case.”

The Countess asked angrily, “Don’t you think we’re aware of that?”

“Yes, sorry, of course you are. So let’s presume you find him tomorrow, and I get him in the net… ”

He looked at Simonsen.

“… because I assume that this is still the agenda. You’re not going to bring him in, are you?”

“No, absolutely not. He would almost certainly refuse to talk, and then we’re checkmate. Especially after this evening, when my bosses had the legal principles of the realm emphasised to that degree.”

“Okay, I was counting on that too. But here comes the hard part: how? Do you have any ideas?”

The Countess shook her head despondently. Simonsen said, “Yes.”

They looked at him with equal parts surprise and interest.

“You both know Marcus Kolding, commonly known as Doctor Cold… ”

He told them about his visit to the bagman last Wednesday, and how one of Falkenborg’s victims was the Finnish woman Elizabeth Juutilainen, who as Liz Suenson had served as Kolding’s courier.

When he was done, the head of DSIS considered the unstated proposal and concluded hesitantly, “It’s not enough, Simon. Kolding is not a man who does political favours, and he can easily curb his thirst for vengeance if it pays him. He’ll want something else, but I’m sure you know that.”

Simonsen turned towards the Countess.

“Go out into the courtyard. There is no reason for you to have joint responsibility in this.”

“No!”

He accepted this without putting up a fight and asked the head of DSIS, “Do you have easy access to the archives of Special Economic Crimes?”

“I have ready access to all archives, but you do too.”

“Not without attracting attention.”

“Hmm, what do you want?”

“We have a relatively high-standing informant in Marcus Kolding’s organisation.”

The Countess was not able to hold back a gasp. The head of DSIS nodded.

“You want to tip off Kolding about his mole as payment for his help with Falkenborg?”

“Yes.”

“And you know what that means?”

“Yes.”

“You will make contact with the Doctor yourself, when Falkenborg is found?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, but we are still missing two things. I will be forced to pull my people away once the Doctor has his hands on Falkenborg, and that order we must not formally take responsibility for. The blame game, you know. I’ll try and think of a way around that for both of us. But my last point is the most important-Simon, it will take at least a full day after Falkenborg is found before this can be put into effect, which means that you will be under enormous pressure from all sides to arrest him. I know full well that you have just had your absolute operative status served to you on a silver platter, but can you hold out against external interference that long?”

“I have no other choice.”

The Countess was less vague.

“You take care of your part, we’ll take care of ours. Are we almost done here?”

They were. Outside the gate on Højbro Plads they went their separate ways. The head of DSIS shook hands with them, which felt strange, but they both reciprocated. Before he left, he said in a mixture of seriousness and irony, “Life for one, death for the other. I didn’t think you had it in you, Simon.”

“Then you were wrong, although I could have done without your cynical comment.”

“You mean my cynical, true comment, don’t you?”

Simonson did not answer and he and the Countess quickly left.