The Midnight Witness

by Sara Blaedel

  Almost everyone in the room responded positively. Enthusiasm had crept in during the afternoon and grown with every idea tossed out. Of course, some of the ideas would lead somewhere; all they had to do was put their noses to the grindstone.

  Louise looked around the room. It was incredible how important teamwork could be. Every new idea, no matter how far-out, had been met with cries of approval.

  “Are we ready?” Suhr asked. He stood up. “Does everyone know what they’ll be doing?”

  They nodded.

  “Wait!” he yelled, after several of them already were out in the hall. “Come back a second.”

  They all gathered around the doorway.

  “I almost forgot to tell you. There will be some changes in the department leadership.”

  Everyone pricked up their ears. “Unfortunately, we’ll be without Henny Heilmann for the time being.”

  Several of them mumbled in surprise. “She’s applied for and been given an open-ended leave of absence.” More mumbling. “We haven’t yet decided if a temporary DCI will be appointed, but of course we’ll keep you informed. For the present I’m taking over as head of this investigation.”

  Louise heard several of them talking about Heilmann out in the hallway, posing questions, such as, Why is she leaving? Was she forced out? Louise mentally stuck her fingers in her ears. She didn’t want to hear the talk, especially not the gossip about who would replace her. She returned to her office and made a list of the people she was to contact. Jørgensen was responsible for Martin Dahl and the ex-boyfriend. She would be talking to Karoline’s three colleagues at work and the two friends she was with on the night of the murder. The three nurses felt like a dead end to her, but they had to be questioned again regarding the theory that Karoline had a secret affair going. She might have confided in them. A long shot, Louise thought. Very long.

  Her phone rang. “Department A, Louise Rick.”

  “Hello, this is Hans Wissinge, Karoline’s father.” His voice was deep and masculine. “I’m sorry to disturb you.”

  “You’re not disturbing me at all,” Louise said. For once she meant it.

  “Perhaps I should have called the chief of Homicide directly. But when I’ve done so, I’ve been told that he’s in a meeting, so now you’re stuck with me.”

  He sounded very apologetic.

  Louise sympathized with him. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m not sure if you can do anything. I just need to hear if there’s any news. We haven’t heard anything, and your chief keeps speaking to the papers about the murder of the journalist. Not that we feel that’s completely unfair, but he doesn’t seem as interested in finding out who killed our daughter.”

  His voice broke, and Louise felt a lump in her throat.

  “I promise you, we’re working around the clock to find who killed her. The meeting he’s been in all day long has been with us, with Homicide, and officers from the crime division, several from Forensics. We’ve gone through the whole case, and we’re calling people back in to be questioned.”

  Louise paused to hear if Karoline’s father felt reassured, but he didn’t answer.

  “Saturday evening we’re going out on the streets to talk to everyone in the area at the approximate time of Karoline’s murder. We’re hoping some of them were there at that time last week. This case has every bit as much of our attention as that of the journalist.”

  He blew his nose. Louise felt the guilt rising like bile in her throat. Of course, more resources were allocated to the murder cases that hit the front pages every day. No one would ever admit it, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. Louise had discussed it several times with her colleagues. And with Heilmann.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Louise was torn; did they know their daughter had been pregnant? She was afraid she would have to break the news to them. “Actually, I was about to call you to see if I could come by tomorrow and give you an update. Would that be okay?”

  She scratched her forehead. She really didn’t have time for that, but she felt sorry for them. Her day would just have to be longer.

  “That would be fine. The funeral is the day after tomorrow, so we have some preparations to make.” His voice was weak, but he did sound a bit lighter.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow morning, and we’ll find a time.”

  After hanging up, she found the numbers of the people she would be questioning. All of them agreed to come in the next day. Great, she thought as she put a check mark beside the last one.

  Louise called Peter to say she was leaving. She didn’t know what his plans were, and she felt a bit embarrassed about not having asked.

  She was disappointed when he reminded her that he was going out with a few people on business. He’d invited her along, and she had said no. She seldom felt like meeting new people, because they usually weren’t shy about prying into her work, which she discussed only with Camilla and Peter.

  A bit later she called Camilla. She felt alone. Though that usually wasn’t a problem, now she felt the need for company. Suddenly she remembered that Camilla’s mother was visiting, but Camilla answered before she could stop the call. “Hi.”

  Her friend sounded down, and Louise decided not to burden her. “Hi, I just called to hear how you’re doing.”

  “It’s like Søren Holm has vanished from the face of the earth; in fact, it’s goddamn annoying. The mood in here is strained to say the least.”

  “I saw him yesterday.” Louise told her about spotting him at Forensic Medicine.

  Camilla livened up. “I’ll be damned! Did he say anything?”

  “No, not to us. But I was told he’d been arguing with the guys all day, the techs, I mean. Because they wouldn’t let him see Frank Sørensen’s body.”

  “How did he look?” Camilla sounded curious but also relieved.

  “Like hell. I remember him as a decent-looking guy, shaved and hair combed, all that, but that wasn’t him yesterday. He looked more like a bum.”

  “A bum! Are you sure it was him? That doesn’t sound right at all.”

  “I asked Flemming Larsen, the pathologist who did the autopsy on Karoline. He said it was Søren Holm. They know each other, so of course it was him. He was really raising hell.”

  “Okay.” Camilla didn’t sound 100 percent convinced. “I’d better tell Høyer.”

  “Yeah, you’d better. Talk to you later.”

  Before she hung up, Camilla said, “Are you still at work?”

  “Yeah, but I’m leaving in a minute.”

  “You have any plans?”

  “Not really. I’d forgotten that Peter was going out, but I’m fine with hanging out at home. I need to do laundry. I have to work all day Saturday.” She told her about the week-after canvass.

  “Mom took Markus out to eat at McDonald’s. I told them I’d join them when I left work; why don’t you come along? They’d love it if you did.”

  Louise thought for a moment. It sounded tempting, but then she’d have to wash her clothes later, and wasn’t it a good idea to get that taken care of, now that she had time? “Hmmm.”

  “Come on. You can always do laundry. If you run out of clothes, you can borrow from me. It might be a long time before Mom makes it over again. Pentecost, something like that.”

  Camilla knew how to persuade Louise. “Okay, let’s do it. Where do you want to meet?” Louise remembered she’d biked to work.

  “It’s the McDonald’s on Falkoner Allé. Let’s just meet there, okay? I’ll stick my head in and tell Høyer you saw Søren and he was okay. Or alive, anyway.”

  Louise called Peter and told him about her plans. She looped her bag over her shoulder and started down the hall. Heilmann’s office door was open, and after glancing inside she stopped abruptly. The office was bare, her desk cleaned off. The Scotch tape holder and paper clips sat neatly on the green felt, but nothing personal was left. Louise checked her watch. She had said goodbye to Heilmann four hours ago, and now
it was as if she’d never been there. It felt so sad. Louise was going to miss her.

  10

  Louise was in a better mood after devouring a McFeast and several Chicken McNuggets. Markus had eaten two bites of his food and then ran off to the playroom full of balls. It was a battle to get him out of there. After a few pointed remarks from two mothers with toddlers, they realized he was too big to romp around in the ocean of colored plastic balls. Three feet eight inches was the limit, and he was taller. They agreed this would be his last time in the room, and he decided it had to be celebrated. He extracted promises of ice cream and films before consenting to go home. Louise walked her bike with Markus on the seat.

  “How are things over in Jutland?” she asked over her shoulder.

  “The way they always are, thank God,” Camilla’s mom answered. “Peace and quiet. I have plenty of time to do as I please, unlike you two.”

  The only thing they’d talked about all evening was the two “girls.” In her opinion, they both worked way too much and took very little care of themselves. They’d tried in vain to convince her she was wrong.

  “Usually I have a lot of time to spend on myself and that little guy.” Camilla threw him a look full of love. “But if I didn’t work, how much fun do you think we could afford to have?”

  Her mother sighed. “I’m thinking more about having time for grown-ups once in a while.”

  Camilla sneered. “Do you have someone particular in mind, if I may ask?”

  “A nice man, for instance, but you’ve become so independent and picky that you don’t even see the possibilities, dear.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being picky.”

  “No, certainly not. But we can be open to people.”

  Louise stayed out of it. This conversation happened every time they were together.

  “There must be men at your work,” her mother continued. “It’s such an exciting place.”

  Louise admired her for her persistence. It never led to anything, but she kept at it, hoping some of it would rub off on her daughter.

  “Strange, but there’s no possibilities there. And anyway, it’s not very smart to get involved with someone you work with.”

  Louise laughed. “Since when did that stop you?”

  Camilla’s mother was all ears. “Is there something I haven’t heard about?”

  “No.” Camilla held her open palm out in frustration. “Listen. If anything happens on that front, I will let you know, and if you run into my future husband, I am open to meeting him. How does that sound?” End of discussion.

  “Fine,” her mother and Louise said in chorus. Camilla opened the front door.

  “You’re all crazy,” Markus said, his finger circling beside his temple. He darted up the steps.

  They all agreed he was right and followed him.

  Markus was asleep by nine, and Camilla’s mother began yawning.

  Louise went out in the kitchen, looking for a pack of sweet biscuits she could do some damage on.

  “I’m going into town this evening,” Camilla yelled as Louise rummaged through her cupboards.

  “You have a date?” Louise was surprised. She found a roll of Marie biscuits behind a box of cornflakes and walked back into the living room.

  “No, actually I’m thinking of swinging by a nightclub, no date.”

  That really surprised Louise. “What, you’re going in to score?” Camilla usually didn’t go into town alone.

  “No, I’m not that desperate. I’m going to try to find out who this Finn is.”

  Louise studied her. “Why are you doing this? What’s so important that suddenly you’re going to spend Thursday night hanging out with drug dealers? You don’t know these people. At all.”

  “I think it’s important to find out who killed Frank.” Camilla was indignant.

  “And you’ve decided you’re the one to do it?” Things went on in Camilla’s brain that Louise simply couldn’t figure out.

  “The head of Narcotics must not think it’s so strange, since she asked me to.” Camilla had known this discussion would come up if she let Louise in on her plans, and she’d decided not to tell her. But now it was too late.

  “I’m going with you.” It would be hell getting up in the morning and going to work, but the thought of Camilla out there alone was worse.

  “You don’t need to. I can handle this alone. I’m not planning on doing anything risky.”

  Louise ignored that. “Where are we going?”

  Camilla stood a moment. Was it best to be on her own? Maybe having someone along wasn’t such a bad idea. “You don’t think these people can see you’re a cop?” She studied Louise.

  Louise raised her voice. “Are you kidding? Do I look like a cop?”

  “Well…no,” Camilla admitted.

  Louise was wearing a tight off-white sweater, worn Diesel jeans, and pointed-toe boots, and her full, wavy dark hair hung down on her shoulders.

  “We’re going to a nightclub close to King’s New Square. It doesn’t open until midnight, but there’s a bar next door. We might be able to get someone to talk.”

  “How do you know about these places?”

  “Birte Jensen told me about the nightclub. And then I’ve checked some articles in our archives, and the King’s Bar keeps popping up. So, I’m just guessing.”

  “And we agree this is only about finding the informant, right?”

  Camilla nodded.

  “Let’s do it then. But.” Louise looked sternly at her friend. “You will not start asking about anything else. These guys are nasty, and a blue-eyed blonde won’t blind them. Not if they suspect you’re pumping them for information over a drink, anyway.”

  “No, I know that.” Camilla sighed and put her coat on. “Let’s just go.”

  11

  Louise glanced around when they stepped into the King’s Bar. She carried her coat over her arm and followed Camilla to a table. The place was nice. It wasn’t crowded, not for a Thursday night, when the city center usually was cooking.

  Camilla searched her bag for her billfold. “We’ll have to buy something to drink, I suppose.”

  “Coke for me,” Louise said when Camilla headed for the bar.

  A bored young woman was bartending. She could hardly be bothered, especially when Camilla ordered two colas.

  Camilla looked disappointed when she returned. “Nobody here’s involved with drugs.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Look around. These are decent people; no one here’s dealing anything.”

  An older man came out from a back room and walked behind the bar. It looked as though he was arranging bottles. He carried out a box of empties and returned with a ring binder. Louise caught herself observing him as if she were working. Did he seem nervous or feel he was being watched? Was there anything out of the ordinary going on? She relaxed; he was just doing his job.

  A young man walked in and sat on one of the high bar stools. The older man grabbed a bottle of beer and opened it for him. They began chatting.

  The grumpy bartender made the rounds, picking up empty bottles. As she passed by Louise and Camilla, she gave their half-empty colas a frosty look. Her mind was an open book; these women weren’t going to leave a tip, so why should she even bother?

  Several more people walked in. Some of them sat at the round tables, others at the bar.

  “Sometimes I wonder how drug dealers can see if people are interested,” Camilla said. They were sitting in plush armchairs, the type that invites quiet talk and an intimate atmosphere, but they weren’t particularly good for following what was going on in the place.

  “Maybe it’s the same as what they say about gay people. They always seem to be sure they can spot other gays in a crowd.” Not very PC, that comparison, Louise told herself.

  Three men in leather jackets and combed-back hair made a racket as they walked in. “There’s a possibility,” Camilla said.

  Louise nodded. They fit the s
tereotype. Two of them sat at a nearby table, and the other went up to the bar.

  “Now it’s a matter of keeping our ears open,” Camilla whispered.

  Louise felt herself tensing up.

  “Damn it,” Camilla said when two attractive men in their early fifties sat at the table beside them, blocking their view of the three men in leather jackets—and ruining every chance of overhearing anything they said.

  They looked at each other. It was a quarter to eleven, over an hour until the nightclub opened. Now the bar was almost full, with only a few tables unoccupied.

  “Maybe we should just ask for him?” Camilla said.

  “Ask who?”

  “The man up at the bar. He must know him if he ever comes around here.”

  “Yeah, but let’s wait until we’re ready to go,” Louise said.

  She wished that Peter were with them so they didn’t look so obvious sitting there. Two women alone always drew attention. Already they had been assessed and discussed by several of the males. Louise felt she was on display. One of the two men at the next table stood up and headed for the bar. When he passed their table, he asked if he could buy them a drink.

  Louise just stared, but Camilla smiled at him and said, “Thank you, that sounds great.”

  “Champagne?” the man asked.

  Louise sent her a look. The man back at the table had white hair. He smiled as he stood up and walked over to them. “Hi, my name is Michael.”

  He pulled his chair over. Out of the corner of her eye, Louise noticed several others watching. She cringed, and things didn’t get better when the bartender came over with a bottle of champagne and four flutes. It felt like a spectacle when the cork popped; she was sure everyone had their ideas about what was going on.

  “Klaus,” the champagne man said, holding out his hand. “What are you two beautiful ladies doing here in town by yourselves?”

  Louise bit her tongue; she didn’t want to be rude. While Camilla chirped at the man, she tried to smile. He filled all four glasses and they toasted. She was content to sip. She excused herself, and stood up and fled to the bathroom. When the door to the narrow hallway leading to the bathrooms shut behind her, she leaned against the wall.