Bloody pitiful. Was he really no different?
Damn, you’re such an idiot, thought Carl, inhaling the smell of half-rotten seaweed and salt as the thoughts were still whirring about. Why did he feel like this and why couldn’t he have a serious relationship with anyone? Hadn’t Lisbeth been both sweet and understanding with him after the breakup with Mona? She’d actually been a really wonderful woman, hadn’t she? But had he been good enough to her? Strictly speaking he’d let her down and turned his back on her the very moment he met her. A fact she could have cast up and reproached him for, but she hadn’t. So who had let whom down?
And what now? In the meantime there had been others like Lisbeth. But was there even enough room in his life for a real relationship? Was there anyone who could keep hold of someone like him?
He thought that at least he had Morten and Hardy. But still that seed of doubt. And then there was Jesper and maybe even Assad and the girl out there on the cliffs.
But would they still be there in the morning? Was he worth keeping hold of?
Carl looked out over the pulse of the waves for a moment before he made the decision, pulled his cell out, and scrolled over the numbers.
Mona’s number was still there. Almost three years without her and she was still just a little touch away.
A moment of hesitation as his index finger rested on the screen, and then he pressed.
It only took ten seconds before her voice said his name. So his number was still on her cell. Was that a good sign?
“Are you there? Hello, Carl, say something,” she said so naturally that it almost paralyzed him. “Come on, I can see that it’s you who’s calling. Did you dial a wrong number?”
His answer came quietly. “No no, I didn’t. I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Okay.”
“Yes, you probably think it a bit strange but I’m standing over in Listed by Svaneke just now, looking out to sea, and just wish that you were here with me.”
“Svaneke! Funny, because just now I’m at the opposite end of Denmark, in Esbjerg actually, so for that reason alone it would be a bit difficult.”
For that reason alone, thought Carl. Not exactly welcoming.
“Obviously. I just wanted to say it. Maybe we can meet up when I get home.”
“You could try and drop me a line, right? Well, take care, Carl. Don’t fall in the Baltic. I hear it’s really cold.”
That was that, and it didn’t feel particularly good.
When he came back, Assad was sitting on the bench chatting with the man.
“He’s crazy, this one,” said the man, chuckling in the voice of a child. “Lying on the floor with his arse in the air talking gobbledygook.”
Assad laughed. “This guy thought that I was trying to bum a beer. Now he knows that that’s not something someone like me would do.”
“No, he doesn’t drink. Not even on May 1st. Are you heading to the demonstration in Rønne? I’ve been once before but now I vote for the Danish Party, just like someone I know. It is Denmark we live in, after all. So does he, the one who doesn’t drink, right?” he said, laughing.
“Hans has told me that he knows everyone in town. He didn’t like what Habersaat did to himself yesterday, so he ran. But nonetheless he didn’t like him.”
“Yes, Habersaat! He’d lost his marbles! I’m twice as intelligent as he was. At least.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Carl.
“So beautiful, his wife. Yes, she really was. I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful. And still he let her get away, the stupid idiot. Yes, I saw her round and about in town with some of the fishermen, and also once up on Knarhøj with someone else. Habersaat was an idiot. Everyone was kissing her.”
He stretched his neck. “Hey! That woman you’re waiting for is coming over. Watch out, here she comes.”
He necked back a huge gulp from his beer and pointed over to Rose, who nodded back. Ruddy cheeked and with windswept hair, and obviously about to interrupt them in what they were doing.
“Just a second, Rose. Assad is on to something here,” Carl said, turning back to the man on the bench.
“Hello, Hans, I’m Assad’s friend. I’m actually a nice guy but I’m also inquisitive. These fishermen you say she kissed, do you know some of them? I’d like to chat with them.”
“There aren’t any fishermen left in town. Not them at any rate.”
“But you also mentioned that June Habersaat met a guy up at . . . what was it called, was it Knarhøj? Right, do you happen to know his name at least? Because if so, then I’d like to have a word with him.”
A spray of beer shot out of the man’s mouth as he laughed. “You won’t be doing that because I don’t know what his name was. It wasn’t someone here from town. But you can just ask Bjarke, the boy I taught to whittle. He looked ridiculous in his scout getup and shorts that time up on Knarhøj, where he was digging or something with that guy.”
“Ridiculous? How?”
“Well, he was almost an adult.”
“Was he maybe a scout leader or something?”
The guy lit up, as if someone had turned on his brain function. “That was it, yes!”
“Okay, Hans. So what you’re saying is that Bjarke was talking with the guy his mother was meeting?”
“Yes. She came up there one day when her son and the guy were there. Where there’s a maze now. They do call it a maze, don’t they? It says that somewhere. I can read, you know. I bet you didn’t know that.”
* * *
They left him with twenty kroner. Enough for the rest of the day, he said. Maybe even more than three beers.
He wasn’t the kind of person who expected the impossible of life.
“Listen, you two,” Rose blurted out on the way up to the car. There were sparks in her eyes and piles of electric cables in her mind. She’d worked out something or other.
“I’ve stood out there thinking over and over: Who was Habersaat really, and why did he do what he did? Why was he so hell-bent when it came to that case?”
“Maybe it was a counterbalance to things not going so well on the home front. You heard the two women and the guy just now. But Habersaat’s professional honor might also have been bruised,” Carl said.
“Maybe. He must have been a good policeman; there can’t be any doubt about that,” she said. “He pursued his goal, but he couldn’t move on, so he shot himself. But do you think he did it because he couldn’t take any more?”
Carl shrugged. “Probably.”
“Tell us what you’re thinking, Rose,” Assad said, smiling.
“Well, I don’t think so—not anymore. I think he shot himself to prove how seriously he took the case. And do you know how seriously I think he took it? Do you, Assad?”
“I think it’s serious enough that he blew his brains out.”
“Very funny, Assad. But Habersaat shot himself because he wanted to use all his power to ensure we carried on. I’m convinced of it. And he wanted that because he was no longer completely out on a limb.”
“Don’t you mean the opposite?” Carl suggested.
“No. That would be the most logical, but I think he probably knew who’d killed Alberte in the end but just couldn’t prove it.” She shook her head. “Or else he couldn’t find him. Or both. Yes, that’s what I think, and that’s what drove him crazy. I also think that if we look carefully enough in his house we’ll find one answer or another.”
“Just hang on a minute, Rose. I can see you’re very involved now, but wouldn’t it have been much easier and more logical if he’d just put his suspicion down on paper, making it all a lot more obvious for us? If his suicide really was premeditated and calculated, why are we left with nothing to go on? Maybe the answer is that there isn’t anything to go on.”
“No, that’s not how I see it. Maybe he has w
ritten something down but we just haven’t seen it yet. I don’t know. Or maybe he hasn’t.” She shook her head again. She was apparently standing at a crossroads of opportunities and couldn’t make a decision. “Or maybe he didn’t even know himself but realized that the solution was right under his nose without being able to see it. So he had to have help from fresh new eyes.” She nodded knowingly. “Yes, that’s how I think it was.”
She looked at Carl with a spark in her eyes. It was something else, the way her stare could be intense and seductive.
“You know what, Carl? He chose us to take a closer look at it all, and we should be proud of that. I’m sure he knew that we’d have to come over here when he did what he did. He knew that it was the sacrifice that was needed before those around him would reopen the case. I feel totally sure about it.”
Carl nodded, glancing at his curly-haired partner.
Assad’s expression indicated that he thought she’d gone crazy.
It was very difficult to disagree.
9
September 2013
Wanda Phinn didn’t hand in her notice; she just left. Threw the cap on the floor, said good-bye to the woman over at the control, and slipped out the door.
It was a total relief, and the wall into Victoria Embankment Gardens slid away without regret, the worries of wasted days disappeared, and the sound of the park faded away. The world lay before her, her whole life and everything it held for her as one of the few chosen ones.
Because Wanda had a plan. Ever since Atu Abanshamash Dumuzi caressed her cheek, calling her his flower, ever since the blood had rushed from her head, leaving her powerless and senseless, since she had come to again and stared enthralled into his mesmerizing eyes and felt his lips on the back of her hand, ever since then she’d known that Atu Abanshamash was the future she’d dreamt of.
Informing Shirley of this realization, she faced an uninvited and endless barrage of ineffective warnings.
“I can see that it all seems enchanting on the screen. Beautiful buildings, interesting rituals, the sea just at your doorstep. But when you arrive over there you’ll find out that it was just flirting, Wanda, and that your journey was wasted,” she warned. “Atu Abanshamash can get all the women he wants. Just think about what he can do and what he looks like.” Her eyes looked like they might pop out of her head. His charisma had left a lasting impression on her, too.
“I know it’s been a while since you had a man, but if you’re feeling sexually frustrated, then there’s loads of men here in London you can go to bed with, and who won’t hurt you more than you let them.”
Wanda shook her head. Shirley made it all sound so simple.
“I don’t think you understand, Shirley. I want to be Atu Abanshamash’s chosen one. I want to live like he tells us to and have his children. I can feel that this is what I’ve been called to all my life.”
“His chosen one?” Shirley was about to laugh but managed not to when she saw the seriousness in Wanda’s face. “But, Wanda. Didn’t you notice the daggers the woman helping him sent you? You won’t be able to knock her off her perch, I’ll bet you.”
“She was old, Shirley.”
“Thanks for that,” Shirley said, taking offense. “I think she looked to be about my age.”
Wanda looked away. Outside the window of her apartment the world was just another wall, towering above her and blocking out all light and all dreams. And behind that wall lived other people with the same unfulfilled hopes. A wall that grew greyer with every day. In this area, the future was carried by dreams. The boys wanted to be soccer players and rock stars and the girls wanted to be their trophy wives. In this area, people watched reality shows and awful quiz shows, gorging themselves on junk food and moving further and further away from the opportunities that a good education or realistic ambitions could provide. In this area, the statisticians could argue with ease that only the fewest of the few would reach the promised land, refined and enriched by success, wealth, and eternal happiness. As if she hadn’t lived with that knowledge day in and day out.
“Sorry, Shirley,” she said when she noticed her friend frowning. “I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant that I’m still young and haven’t had any children yet, and my body and soul are ready for all that now. And I can assure you that Atu doesn’t sleep with that woman who was helping him. I can feel these things.”
“You’ll be disappointed, Wanda, and it’ll definitely end in tears, and you’ll have used all your savings on this hopeless project. What will you live off then when you come back? Where will you live? There isn’t room for two people in my room, you know that.”
“I’ll come back and visit you, Shirley, and I’ll stay at a hotel. But I’ll come back as a different woman, you can count on that.”
Shirley pursed her lips. “Who will I hang out with? Who’ll I share all the gossip with when I get home from my mind-numbing job?” She began to cry. “You can’t just leave me sitting alone in this rotten place, can you?”
Wanda didn’t say anything but put her arm on Shirley’s shoulder, pulled her in to herself, and held her tight.
“So the least you can do is write some e-mails about how you’re doing. You will do that, won’t you, Wanda?” She sniffed.
“Of course. I’ll write every single day if I can.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“No, Shirley, I promise. And I always keep my word.”
* * *
She wrote to the Nature Absorption Academy on the island of Öland in Sweden, informing them that she’d now decided on her date of departure and that she’d be very grateful if someone could pick her up at the station in Kalmar on the day in question. She also wrote that she expected to follow more courses at the academy than she had first signed up for and that, if possible, she’d like to stay on afterward and work as a volunteer to help spread Atu Abanshamash Dumuzi’s thoughts and ideals.
Wanda was dead certain that she’d get what she wanted. Atu Abanshamash had shown his desire for her and he could’ve had her that day in London if he hadn’t been busy with the course. That was something they’d both realized. Now she was making up for the bad timing so they could continue where they’d left off.
The time had come.
A few days went by before an e-mail informed her that the courses were oversubscribed. They’d let her know when there were free places again but she shouldn’t expect that to be this year.
Wanda refused to believe it. When Atu Abanshamash saw her, things would be different. As long as she was fully prepared. Then she noticed the sender’s name: Pirjo Abanshamash Dumuzi.
Shirley was right. It would end up as a fight between them, no doubt about that. A bloody scratch-your-eyes-out fight.
In the days and nights that followed, she immersed herself in the alternative energy of the universe, reciting over and over Atu’s utterances about the Nature Absorption Academy. She would be irreproachable in her knowledge and engagement, but that wasn’t hard because everything about Atu Abanshamash Dumuzi seemed so right and logical. In fact, it felt as if through his thoughts Atu embraced all forms of belief and goodness in humanity in one pure and refined set of rules, and it took her by storm. The more she read, the more she tried to understand, the stronger she felt how these guiding principles and decrees for a purer life pulled everything ugly and foolishly mundane out of her.
Finally, she sat up straight and felt the peace of mind growing in her. No cola on the table, no flashing television screen with soap operas in the background, no noise in her head. The last doubt in her project petered away, leaving her determined and peaceful.
When she stood in front of Atu Abanshamash she’d be completely clear. Her sensuality and insight into the teachings of Atu Abanshamash would blow him away, convincing him that in her he’d finally met a woman who was worthy of him in every way.
And the other
woman, who thought herself untouchable and was trying to thwart her plans, would just need to go.
10
Thursday, May 1st, 2014
Villy Kure, the skipper everyone called Uncle Sam, lived in a yellow half-timbered house with its own smokehouse on Mosedalvej, two houses north of Habersaat’s home. Here along the highway between Sandvig and Snogebæk there was a mishmash of all types of property all in a row elevated a few meters above the level of the road and with the most beautiful view out over the fishing huts, harbor, and sea. Perfectly idyllic, if it wasn’t for the fact that someone from the town’s inner circle had just blown his brains out.
They knocked on the door at the front of the house, and when no one answered they pulled into the driveway, past a smoke oven, and into the yard where a four-wheel drive was parked.
Carl felt the hood. It was ice-cold.
The back door gave no result either, which a cyclist out on the road was able to explain as they traipsed back to the car.
“Uncle Sam is out at sea. He’s the captain of a fishing boat that’s acting as a patrol boat just now. So you shouldn’t expect to see him anytime soon.”
“A patrol boat?”
“Yes. When those damn Russian captains can’t raise their anchors properly, they scrape the seabed and take the cables with them. And now it’s gone wrong again. Last Christmas we were without power from Sweden for a month and a half because of it, but it isn’t quite so bad this time.
“So every time something like this happens, Sam’s sitting out there on his boat turning away all the boats on course with the cable ship that’s busy repairing the damaged cable.”
“I see. I would’ve liked to talk to him about Habersaat. They were friends, weren’t they?”
“Habersaat, good heavens!” he snorted. “Yeah, maybe they were friends, but Habersaat wasn’t exactly easy to be friends with. He could play cards with Uncle Sam. That was about all they had in common in the last few years.”
The Hanging Girl Page 8
