When Civil Servants Fail

by John Schou

situation.”

  “Speaking about that, were any of you aware of that before the meeting?”

  “It was an extraordinary meeting,” Mr. Olsen now informed. “Mr Lockwood informed at least the three of us, Mrs. Rasmussen, Mr. Anderson and me, about the most important issue the day before, requesting us not to discuss it further – which we anyhow did.”

  “I was also informed but did not discuss it with anyone,” Miss Brehm exclaimed.

  “Not even with Mr. Lockwood junior?” Mr. Andersen asked.

  Miss Brehm flushed. Red-faced she said: “Certainly not!”

  Mr. Smith enjoyed this opportunity for attack: “Why should Miss Brehm discuss it with him?”

  “It has been noticed that Andrew Lockwood has had direct contact with Miss Brehm a couple of times,” Mr. Andersen answered.

  “Stupid roomers,” Miss Brehm sneered. “He drove me home last month twice, that’s all.”

  “In the red Ferrari,” Mrs. Rasmussen added.

  Mr. Smith hoped there would be more poison flowing and waited for a brief period of time, but the members of the board realized that they had exposed themselves and kept quiet. “Ladies and Gentlemen, thanks for coming here today. I believe you have pressing affairs and do not want to be the one guilty of halting it …”

  “You already did,” Mrs Rasmussen interrupted, living up to her image of a lady to be feared.

  “… further. Miss Brehm, I have a few questions for you, which we do not need to bother the others with.”

  “Now when it is finally getting interestingly, we are supposed to leave,” Mrs. Rasmussen said, though in a low tune, and Mr. Smith ignored it. I guess he was really tired of this lady.

  “Excuse me, can I use the toilet?” Miss Brehm said as her three board-member companions raised to depart.

  “Of course,” I said and showed her the way to the guest toilet in the hall as I followed the leaving guests. Then I went back to Mr. Smith.

  “Ask Mr. Lockwood junior to come here alone in the afternoon. Better call from your office when Miss Brehm returns.”

  “Sure. In the meantime, I want to make two suggestions: that I drive her back to her working place. I may have a better contact to young women than you, in particular in certain cars. Thereafter, I want to search the scene in the woods. I expect to find an important track.”

  “And that is?”

  When Mr. Lockwood was attacked, it had been raining but since then, the weather has been dry. I am now expecting to find traces nearby, preserved by that circumstance.”

  “And not found or destroyed by the police detectives? I fear a herd of elephants could not be more destructive,” my boss answered.

  “Nearby, but not so close,” I insisted.

  Miss Brehm returned.

  “All right, permission granted,” Mr. Smith said and started questioning our guest with some standard questions, the signal for me to go to my office.

  Mr. Lockwood junior was at the breakfast table, now at 11 a.m. He agreed to come at half past four in the afternoon, without being told the reason for our interest. I hurried into the ‘Inner Temple.’ “OK, at 15:30, if it suits you,” I said.

  “Perfectly, you can pick up the tickets later, after you have driven Miss Brehm back to work,” the chief said, as if he was going to leave his castle for the first time in several months. Turning to Miss Brehm, he said, “To put it directly, what is your relation to Mr. Lockwood? If you answer honestly, we may soon finish the session.”

  “Currently, no relation at all.”

  “And earlier?” he insisted.

  “Yes, he has invited me a couple of times to an expensive restaurant in North Zealand. We even spent a night together. I hope you do not want further details.”

  “Is this connection still active?”

  “No!”

  “When and why did it stop?”

  “His father intervened after he had picked me up a couple of times in front of the office building with his unique car. That is three weeks ago. He asked me to come to his office and there told me that I would have to be more discrete if I was to represent the employees of the firm while having dates with its chief’s son. He must have argued differently towards Andrew.”

  “Why do you think so?”

  “Because Andrew the following day broke the connection – or at least the intimate part of it. Mr. Lockwood had not demanded that from me.”

  “Are you sure that he demanded it from his son?”

  She hesitated. “No, not quite.”

  “What is Mr. Lockwood junior working with?”

  “I don’t think he is working at all. He had been studying, but I think he cancelled that a long time ago.”

  “So he is not working but driving an expensive car, inviting a young woman to an expensive restaurant and once even to a hotel. How would you characterize such a man, Mrs Brehm?”

  She flushed. “A spoiled child – or maybe rather a play …” she looked desperately at me.

  “A playboy,” I spoke the word completely out. “Do you think he had any idea of, what was looming?”

  “No, he said so when I asked him.”

  “And when was that?” Mr. Smith took over.

  “Just the day before the meeting. I called him after his father had told me the reason for this extraordinary session.”

  “So the connection had not been completely disrupted?”

  “We were just friends,” she claimed.

  Highly unusual after disruption of a sexual connection, I thought.

  “It was at least correct to get rid of the other members of the board before asking you these questions. May I give you the advice not to refer the content of this discussion to anybody?” Mr. Smith said.

  “Of course, I hope you will stick to the same condition,” she answered.

  “We shall, provided you also remain silent towards young Mr. Lockwood. One last question: Do you know somebody on whom the following description fits: Around 30 years old, black slightly curly hair, brown eyes, black leather jacket and jeans, a characteristically high-pitched voice and a strange English dialect?”

  “No. Why?”

  We did not need a lie detection device; the sudden change in her expression of the face told everything, and her soft denial could not alter that expression. Mr. Smith and I exchanged a glance, mutually confirming that impression.

  “Because the person has probably been involved in the threat towards Mr. Lockwood senior. Please call us, if you discover any other hints and leave it to us to decide, if they are important or not. Thank for your patience, Mr. Gusto will now drive you back to work.”

  Miss Brehm was very thoughtful but suddenly got open eyes, after I had driven the 25-year-old Bentley Cornice out of the garage. “Golly, isn’t it a Rolls-Royce?”

  “No, it is just the economy version, from the time when Rolls-Royce and Bentley were together. Mr. Smith is now saving for a really expensive car. He already got a fast electric wheelchair.”

  “Excuse me my curiosity, Mr. Gusto, are you married?”

  “Almost!”

  “And who shall be the happy bride?”

  “My girlfriend – but don’t tell anybody, it’s a surprise.”

  “Did you agree with your fiancé to keep it secret?”

  “No, it’s a surprise to her, too.”

  She laughed. “Would you mind driving me home to Nørrebro? They are not expecting me at the work this morning. I could use a couple of hours alone.”

  “Of course. What is the exact address?” She told me and I decided to take the fastest way. My thoughts were already in the forest, on the back seat was a bag with my jogging clothes and Nørrebro was not much farther away. I just had to get rid of Miss Brehm.

  I declined her offer to come up for a cup of coffee. Even if I had considered accepting it, this was not appropriate vicinity to park a luxury car – even Andrew Lockwood would not park his Ferrari here. I said goodbye and enjoyed my freedom. Miss Brehm was not going to enjoy
her much longer.

  8 – Back in the Woods

  Finally alone! I turned the car and drove away from the crowded city towards the wealthy suburbs north of Copenhagen and then, after Klampenborg, with the forest on both sides and the sea not so far away. With the hunting castle Eremitagen to the left, where I found the plastic bag yesterday, Skodsborg pushed the forest westwards away, behind the railway to Elsinore. In the centre of the small hamlet, I turned left towards Nærum. After two curves, the road continued straight ahead. After a couple of kilometres, I drove into the small parking place close to the one where I had found Mr. Lockwood, but north of the road. It was a perfect day for an excursion, the sun shining from a cloudless blue sky with the intense colours of the Danish autumn forest. Honestly, I had no expectation of finding anything; it was simply an excuse for having some hours off. There were no other cars at the place. I changed clothes in the car and went out in the nature.