When Civil Servants Fail

by John Schou

of Mr. Smith, that was what I would attempt to do. I had one advantage to the police: I knew one person who probably knew the murderers, if he was not even one of them

  It was stressed that I was not allowed to leave the city. Yes, the suitcase was not there, although the police refused to believe it was stolen. Together with Bjørn-Hansen, I filed a claim against anonymous for the theft. Uncle Egon would have to wait longer for my visit; anyhow it would be a surprise, he did not know anything about it and if anybody would ask him in his nursery home, he would not answer. He wouldn’t even greet the visitor.

  When I came home, Mr. Smith was already celebrating his siesta. No calamity could change that. I showed the handcuffs, which I had stolen, to Juanita, claiming that they were presented to me, putting them into (rather onto) my hands. Without the key, it was merely a souvenir. Then I went to my office and typed a report of the previous 24 hours on an old computer without Internet access, a precaution I often took for avoiding to present evidence to the authorities who were definitely spying through the Net, contrary to their official claim. The computer itself was disguised behind a panel, should the police ransack the house – something they had not done for years, since they believed they knew everything I wrote.

  At 3 p.m., Mr. Smith came down and simultaneously, the doorbell rang. Juanita opened and introduced the new guest, who to my surprise was none other than Ivan Petrov.

  “I am grateful you came here. I want to know, first what went wrong and second, how we can repair some of the damage done – I mean, we cannot bring the murdered couple back to life, but there are other aspects ...” Mr. Smith halted before mentioning which.

  “It started to go as planned. The suitcase was delivered and the locating device worked perfectly – but even without that, we managed to follow them. They were really absolutely amateurish, so I was almost relieved to leave the money, 50,000 € as agreed, as we finally entered their apartment. I managed to get the documents you wanted, and then we left. I paid the two assistants the agreed sum – here is mine, by the way, under these conditions I don’t want money – but apparently, they wanted more and were prepared to kill for 50,000 €. And then they even forced me to deliver them your documents. They only let me go recently.”

  “Now, they want even more. Today, after Mr. Gusto was arrested, I received a call asking for double that sum. I expected that the police record my phone calls and reacted accordingly. They may have understood what is cooking.”

  “At least, they may expose themselves by their greed,” Petrov continued. The question is only, how to make any agreement with them, without also involving the police. We must act fast, before we sink any deeper.”

  “Perhaps we should really cooperate with the police. I shall, of course, lose my licence, sell the car and the house, move into a small protected apartment and ...”

  He did not mention ‘fire my personal assistant,’ but he was prepared to do even that. I have seen Mr. Smith sad many times, furious very often, but I have never experienced him as depressed as he was now. I understood that in order to save my job, I would have to save him from himself now.

  “How can we deliver the money?” Mr. Smith asked. Did I hear right, was he giving up so easily? My facial expression betrayed my thoughts. “Do not worry, Eric. It is only the first step in bringing these guys to justice.”

  “And ourselves to the same place – and disclosure of the file you wanted to hide,” I answered.

  “If it is necessary, I am going to accept even that. You’ll get my best recommendations, Eric. You will find a new job easily. And you, too, Mr. Petrov, somehow I am going to have a successor. Did the gangsters say anything about how to deliver the money?”

  “No, they just mentioned the sum they demanded, adding it should be in used paperbacks. Then they would come back later with further details, said Petrov.

  “But you know them and how we can reach them?”

  “Obviously I misjudged them. Besides, the address where I reached them is now empty, I checked that already. We shall have to wait till they call.”

  “Another lawless activity of mine,” said Mr. Smith. “Perhaps we should really involve the police now, if that is what eventually will occur. The deeper we sink ...”

  This was the first time ever that I interrupted him – and hopefully the last one, too. “I believe it can’t get worse. If we call the police now, even Bjørn-Hansen cannot help us. I think we shall deal with the problem ourselves.”

  “I fully agree,” Petrov said.

  “Very brave of you both. Anyhow, the initiative is in the hands of the gangsters – I mean the other gangsters. We cannot do much in the meantime except, as they suggested, count the money.”

  Not a problem I had, to count the cash money in my possession, but Mr. Smith obviously kept considerable sums upstairs. So big that he did not want my help to get it.

  We did not have to wait for long. The same evening, Petrov called. “I was contacted, that I shall come to you tomorrow afternoon for a discussion.”

  The telephone was probably tapped, so also I wanted to keep information scarce. I did not consult Mr. Smith about it but simply said “Yes, we have a problem you probably can help us with. Can you be here at four p.m.?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good. See you tomorrow.”

  5 – Operation Fafner

  We were sitting in Mr. Smith’s office the following day. Petrov reported: “The two wanted me to deliver the ransom. They asked me to come alone with 100,000 €. The content was worth it, they claimed. They had read it.”

  “And taken copies,” suggested Mr. Smith. “Is it really worth fighting against it?

  “It is not for me to decide,” answered Petrov.

  Mr. Smith gave up. “Eric, call Mr. Erlandsson.”

  “May I make another suggestion?” I asked politely.

  “We can use any support now, possibly even your suggestion, Eric,” Mr. S answered.

  “What I suggest utilizes greed and distrust among the gangsters. I call my plan ‘Operation Fafner’.”

  First, an explanatory note. Mr. Smith is a devoted Wagnerian, otherwise I should see no need to give the plan such a name; it was simply a bait for my chief. He was instinctively sympathetic to anything that should come from any of Wagner’s works, only surprised that such inspiration should come from me. Perhaps he forgot how he explained everything he heard to me for years, before he finally realized it as a total waste of time – and now, it seemed it was subconsciously received. That is what came out of it.

  This time, I went together with Petrov although the blackmailers had asked him to come alone. There was no luggage safe involved, it was late night and I carried my gun along. We saw us face-to-face but the problem was that we operated in an atmosphere of maximal distrust. The other two were possibly prepared to kill us after having received the whole sum.

  We met in a deserted place, and I carried a flat suitcase. Max, the dark-haired culprit, was standing a little away with an automatic gun while the other, red-haired one was moving towards us with a handgun.

  “Mr. Smith was only able to raise 50,000 € immediately. It will take two weeks for him to cough up with the rest. This is therefore only the first part,” I said. It was kind of a life insurance to promise this large sum later.

  The guy called Robert came forward, a gun in his hand. “Ivan, move 10 steps backward. Max, give me cover. You, Eric, move forward and open the suitcase.”

  I obeyed. It looked like money, yes, indeed it was. Robert took each bundle up and counted it, thereby transferring it to a plastic bag. “But there are only 40,000 €.”

  “That is what you split. Then there are 10,000 for Max as agreed upon when we negotiated about the sum,” Petrov said. “Eric, give it.”

  Do you permit that I grasp in my jacket?” I asked Robert, who was already nervously moving his gun.

  “Max, what is that about 10,000?” Robert snared.

  “But it was extra,” the fool said.
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  “OK, Eric, fill it into the bag, and no tricks.”

  I did as required. The two men were not discussing their problems in the presence of strangers, but the tension between them was detectable.

  “OK, scram. We’ll be in touch within two weeks.”

  We went backwards to the car and drove away –perhaps only 300 meters but out of sight. We opened the windows and heard some voices but could not make up any words. Unmistakably was, however, first one shot, then a salve. The handgun and the automatic one. We decided to let the car stand and cautiously neared the two men.

  The two men were lying without moving and with the money between them. They had killed one another. We cautiously kicked their guns away, should there be some life left. Then I took the bag full of money, cautiously using gloves, and emptied it into the flat suitcase. Then we ran to the car and departed without meeting any police.

  We have to find another name to your ‘Operation Fafner’,” Mr. Smith said the following morning. “It turned out to be absolutely unsuitable.”

  “I thought it was a success,” I said. I was wearing slippers, since the police had just picked up my shoes for an examination, if they had been near the spot where two killed gangsters were found. No danger, I had used some other shoes of Uncle Egon, somewhat larger and now carefully disposed of. The car belonged to Ivan who also should have changed the tires by now, although he should not immediately be suspected.

  “Yes, it seems to be a success. But Wagner’s similar operation was, seen from Wotan’s point of view, a disaster. Fafner and his brother were as greedy as the two guys in the night, but only Fasolt was killed. In this case, we were luckier. What if one had survived?”

  “If and if. It did not happen. Live with it!”

  “On the other hand,” he continued undisturbed, “it is better, if the name is misguiding and the operation therefore a success, than reverse.”

  “I think the wedding suite is soon calling for another visit,” I said in order to change the subject away from Wagner. He had already ordered the Rhinegold, to hear it in the evening (without me, of course).

  “By no means!” was the upset answer. “Four people have died and the only thing you can think of is celebrating. It is also awakening the police’s interest for the reason.”

  “And how did you get so much money without prompting questions from the bank? As far as I can count, you lost half of it.”

  “I did not get it from the bank. I had it in a sock – with a coded lock upon it.” I knew that he had a safe somewhere on the first floor, but not where it was, and I was surprised to learn what it contained. “One must be ready for the unforeseen expenses,” he argued.

  “I hope you are ready then for an extraordinary salary boost for your assistant!”

  “Next month I shall be ready. Now, bring me that opera and leave to get some sleep. Tomorrow I hope to see you for breakfast as usual. We have got a new case.”

  “Certainly not, I need some holiday after this one.”

  “Do not be afraid,” he insisted. “It is quite trivial.”

  “Not like delivering a ransom for regaining somebody’s pet?”

  “Not the faintest similarity,” he insisted.

  “OK, I’ll be there,” I said.

  When I almost was out of the door, he added, “It is a very simple murder case – in South Africa. Bring along a suitcase and be prepared for a long travel.”

  “Fortunately, I am not allowed to leave Copenhagen,” I said.

  “Mr. Bjørn-Hansen just called and said that you were. The weapons with which the two gangsters killed one another were also used in the murder of the young couple in Ishøj. Your plane will leave the day after tomorrow, very early. Before that, I want to give you a brief instruction concerning the case.”

  I gave him a tired answer: “Before that, I shall deliver a full confession