The Midnight Witness

by Sara Blaedel

  “So, picked up some company, did you?”

  It was one of the three men they’d wanted to eavesdrop on. She felt herself blushing; it wasn’t hard to guess what he was thinking. “Excuse me, may I?” She tried to slip past him.

  He backed up toward the bathrooms, still blocking the way. “Hey, no need to be so touchy, what with that bubbly you’re drinking. No reason at all.”

  “Would you please move back a bit, so I can get past?”

  He sized her up, but instead of moving he squinted and nodded thoughtfully, as if he’d just realized something. “You look like you could stand a little bit of fun. You sure came to the right place. Go on back to your rich boys. I’d watch out if I were you, though. Might not only be champagne in those glasses.”

  Louise’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean?” He was the one who looked like he might slip something into their glasses—or in their noses. Yet there was something about him…

  “Nothing.”

  He stepped aside to give her room. She stood her ground. On impulse, she asked, “Do you know a guy they call the Finn?”

  She waited, but she’d already seen his reaction when she spoke the name.

  He stared at her. “Who’s asking?”

  She decided to lay her cards on the table. “My friend wants to get in touch with him. But we don’t know who he is. Maybe you can help?”

  “I don’t think so. But the first thing you need to do is get rid of your company. No one’s going to feel much like talking to you with them around.”

  “Why not?”

  He sized her up again, as if he didn’t know whether she was playing dumb or really was dumb. “You don’t know who you’re sitting with?” He sounded both startled and sarcastic.

  “No,” she said, though she had the feeling he would tell her. “What is it you’re trying to say?”

  “You come in here asking about somebody who knows a few of this town’s not-so-nice guys. Since you’re interested in that sort of stuff, maybe you heard about a raid yesterday?”

  She nodded. Before he could say more, the door opened and a woman walked over to the bathroom. Louise made eye contact with her, as she’d done earlier at the table. She probably thought Louise was a man hunter; first the men at her table, now this hallway liaison. The woman slammed the door behind her.

  “The news mentioned the raid,” she said, hoping he was still willing to talk.

  He nodded. “The guy out there who bought champagne for you and your friend is Klaus West. He owns the apartment that was raided yesterday. He wasn’t there, but the police confiscated a whole shitload of green dust, if you know what that is.”

  Green dust. Louise nodded.

  “You’re standing here asking about the Finn. He’s way below where you’re at now; you’re with the big boys.”

  Louise was stunned. She stared at him as what he’d said sank in.

  “What’s your friend want with him?” he asked.

  He sounded different now. Like a normal guy, less like a smart-ass. Louise had to get back to Camilla. She could just see the police storming the bar and arresting her along with the two drug kingpins. At least Louise assumed the other man was involved.

  “There’s something she wants to ask the Finn about, but I can’t tell you what.”

  “Listen, I think you two little ladies ought to grab your purses and hit the road. You don’t know shit about who you’re messing with.” Before she could answer, he said, “It’s a bad idea to snoop around when you’re with guys like this. Trust me, you need to get out, now.”

  The door opened again, and Camilla walked in. “What the hell are you doing? I thought you’d left without your things, without even saying goodbye.”

  She stopped when she noticed the dark-haired man standing partly hidden behind the doorframe. She looked at Louise.

  “Camilla, we have to go.”

  “Hell no. They just bought another bottle; they’re a lot of fun. Where have you been?”

  “We’re going now. Tell them I’m sick.”

  Camilla ignored her and turned to the man. “So, who are you?”

  He looked her over. “I’m guessing you’re the one looking for the Finn. Your friend here”—he pointed at Louise—“is way too classy to hang around guys like them. You’re more their type.”

  Camilla gasped; Louise could see her wondering if it was worth it to slap him, but she held off. “You’re one of his friends, maybe?”

  He smiled. “I’m not talking about it here. I don’t want your two generous hosts to get interested in me. Go grab your stuff and meet me outside.”

  He walked into the men’s bathroom.

  “What’s going on?” Camilla was confused.

  “Go out and get our coats. Tell them I’m sick, and sorry, but we have to go.”

  Camilla stared at her, but finally she nodded. “They seem really nice. It’s stupid not to stay. We can look for the Finn tomorrow.”

  “Stop it.”

  “I could stand a dinner date with one of them.”

  “No, you couldn’t. Go on out there, and don’t make any dates. Come on.”

  Louise headed for the door while Camilla made their apologies and pointed at her. She gave them a little smile and wave while concentrating on looking pale and sick.

  They waited to put their coats on until they were outside.

  “You owe me, big-time,” Camilla said as they walked down the sidewalk.

  Louise was about to explode. “I don’t owe you shit. We go out to find a source for you, and as soon as a couple of men buy us drinks, you drop everything. You seriously need to get your priorities straight.”

  Camilla’s face tightened, and Louise knew how harsh she’d sounded. “Sorry. But the fact is, you’ve been drinking champagne with two of the biggest drug bosses in town.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Klaus West owns the apartment that was raided yesterday, and not so long ago several kilos of heroin were confiscated in another apartment he owns.”

  At last, Camilla caught on. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  Someone crossing the street approached them, maybe the guy in the bar, but Louise couldn’t be sure; his collar was pulled up, his stocking cap pulled down.

  “Follow me,” he said as he began walking in front of them. They stood for a few moments before following. They walked around the corner, crossed one of the one-way streets, and rounded another corner. He stopped outside a large gateway.

  “Give me your number,” he said to Camilla. “I’ll see if I can get the Finn to call you. But I’m not promising anything. Especially when you don’t say who you are or what you want. It’s better I do it than you trying to find him and ending up with those two.”

  Louise watched as Camilla thought for a moment and then opened her pocketbook. She had thought her friend was going to give him her business card, with her work number and home address. Instead she pulled out an old receipt, wrote down her name and number, and handed it to him.

  “Tell him that someone he knows said I should talk to him, that he can help me. What’s your name?”

  He smiled. “Just call me your friend.” He nodded at them and disappeared down the dark street.

  “That was weird,” Camilla said.

  They headed back to the King’s New Square. It wasn’t midnight yet, but they decided to drop the nightclub. More than enough had happened, and anyway, they might have already found a connection to the Finn. The best thing they could do was wait.

  “I’ve read that the bikers control the drug market in Copenhagen,” Camilla said as they rode the Metro. “And there was also something about bikers and what’s just been confiscated.”

  Louise nodded. “You’re right. But there are Eastern Europeans involved somewhere, too; they’re an evil bunch. I can’t remember which country they come from. I don’t know so much about it.”

  “These guys were Danish.”

  “Yeah.” Louise leaned forw
ard. The nearby seats were mostly empty, but she lowered her voice anyway. “When our new friend said the name, I remembered I’d heard it before. I’m pretty sure Klaus West, the one who bought the champagne, was president of one of the big biker clubs in the early eighties. Or maybe even earlier than that.”

  “He wasn’t any biker!” At first Camilla sounded indignant, then she laughed.

  “No, he’s not, not anymore. I didn’t recognize him, either. It’s been a long time since he’s been heard from.”

  “Isn’t it cocky of him to show his face in town, the day after his apartment was raided? Surely the police are after him?”

  “Yeah, but did you notice the couple sitting across from us?”

  Camilla shook her head.

  “I’d be surprised if they weren’t plainclothes. I noticed them when they walked in.”

  “Wow. And they might think I know these guys,” Camilla said.

  “Right. That wouldn’t be all that great for you, would it?”

  Louise stared blankly out the window; green emergency exit signs flashed by at regular intervals.

  After thinking about it, Camilla said, “If he’s really a hard-core drug boss, surely he can spot a few plainclothes cops. He can’t be naïve.”

  “I would think he did notice. That’s why we were a great excuse for them to be at that bar.”

  Camilla shook her head. “It all sounds so ridiculous. I’ve been out on the town a million times without running into any drug bosses; why should it happen now? That friend of yours is imagining all this.”

  Louise hesitated before shaking her head. “I don’t think so. Besides, you haven’t been in places like this before, have you?”

  They reached Frederiksberg and got out. On the way up the steps, Camilla turned and said, “Whatever they were up to, it’s not something dangerous for us.”

  “No, of course not. It’s just not the best company to be seen in, and I’m certain the police were there. Maybe they’re just keeping an eye on what goes on.”

  “They must be after both of those guys.”

  Louise nodded. “There could definitely have been more police in there.” She thought about it for a moment. “And they might be waiting for Klaus and his buddy to lead them to someone higher up. This green dust seems to keep appearing.”

  Louise unlocked her bike outside Camilla’s apartment building. “Your cell phone, the paper gave it to you, right? For work?”

  “Yeah.”

  “If someone looks up the number, will they get the paper’s address?”

  Camilla nodded, then stopped. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because you gave the number to someone you didn’t know. It’s not going to be pleasant if they suddenly ring your doorbell.”

  “Why the hell would they do that?”

  “Camilla, listen. This is why you should stay the hell away from it all. You don’t realize what goes on. If they want to talk to you, they’ll look you up. And they’ll come in, even if you don’t want them to. The rules in their world are different. But as long as they don’t know where you live, nothing’s going to happen. You only gave him your phone number, right?”

  “Yeah, and they can’t find me through my phone carrier. I’ve had a secret number and address since some idiot kept calling me about something I’d written.”

  “Great. The Finn might hold back if he checks you out and sees the Morgenavisen address pop up. We have to hope he can be trusted, like Birte Jensen says. That he’ll just call, and that will be it.”

  “Do you really have to be so bleak about all this?”

  “As long as it’s not the champagne boys you gave your number to, it’s probably okay. It wouldn’t be good if they found out the police sent you.” Louise smiled as she pushed off on her bike, but stopped when she noticed her friend’s face. “You didn’t, did you?”

  She held Camilla’s eyes, but she’d already seen it. “You did.”

  Camilla nodded slowly.

  12

  Louise concentrated on not spilling the two cups of coffee she carried. By now she knew that Jørgensen took his black with two teaspoons of sugar. She pushed the office door open with her foot.

  At the morning meeting, Suhr had said that everyone in the department would take part in the week-after canvass. A little late to be telling us that, she thought; colleagues working on other cases might have been counting on some time off.

  She set Jørgensen’s coffee in front of him.

  “Thanks.”

  She sat down at her desk. “Was it Narcotics or the old riot squad you were with?”

  “I did time in both departments.”

  “Did you ever meet a guy called Klaus West?”

  He looked surprised as he shook his head. “No, I never met him, but I know who he is. They think he calls the shots on who gets which district. He’s a major player, but we’ve never managed to bring him down.”

  “I met him in town yesterday when I was out with a friend.”

  He looked startled, then he laughed. “Okay. So now he’s one of your friends?”

  Now it was Louise’s turn to laugh. “I don’t actually know him. We were at a bar, and suddenly he and his sidekick sat down with us and bought a bottle.”

  Jørgensen gazed at her wordlessly. “Where was it?”

  “The King’s Bar. Close to the King’s New Square.”

  He thought for a moment. “That makes sense.”

  She frowned in puzzlement.

  “I think he owns the place. We’ve been in there, I don’t know how many times. Didn’t find one single gram, even though we were pretty sure he had it stowed away somewhere. He’s the careful type, and he’s way ahead of anyone who’s a threat to him.”

  “That must be why he bought us champagne. He probably wanted to know what we were up to.” Louise regretted not talking Camilla out of going there.

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if he already knew you were with the police.”

  Her jaw dropped. “How could he know that?”

  “He just knows that kind of stuff.”

  “There are two thousand cops in Copenhagen; I seriously doubt he’d know I’m one of them.”

  “Hmmm. I promise you he knows every one of the three hundred eighty plus people working in Criminal Investigations. He keeps up on these things. That’s one of the reasons we haven’t nailed him yet. Like I said, he’s always a step ahead, and he never makes a move when there’s somebody close he’s suspicious of.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  “No, he knows everybody. At one point we suspected we had a leak, someone feeding him information, and that’s not unlikely. He could afford it. But it’s damn uncomfortable thinking a colleague is leaking information. Not to mention others suspecting you.”

  “Did they find a leak?”

  “I don’t think so. No one heard about it, anyway.” He returned to his reading.

  She leaned back. What happened at Narcotics wasn’t any of her business.

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

  “It was him,” Camilla said. “And the other one with the white hair, his name is Michael Danielsen; they call him Snow.”

  Probably for several reasons, Louise thought. “You’ve been doing your homework.”

  “Yeah, but I had to go a long way back for it. Nothing’s been written about him the last five years, so I think maybe we overreacted.”

  “I don’t think so. I’ve just been told it’s likely they knew who we were when they came over and sat down. They were probably just trying to find out what we wanted. I’d say we underreacted.”

  “Oh, come on now. You’re getting paranoid from all these murderers and criminals you track down. They couldn’t have known shit about who we were.”

  Louise realized her words were falling on deaf ears, and stopped. She also had to prepare for the interviews she had lined up, but when she tried to wind up the conversation, Camilla said, “I’m covering the funeral tomo
rrow.”

  “I’ll see you there then.”

  “Høyer is pressuring me for an interview with Karoline Wissinge’s parents. Could you put a word in for me?”

  “You know I can’t do that. And I don’t think it’s a good idea to look them up. Give them some time.”

  “But I don’t have time. We need it for the front page tomorrow, and Sunday, too, if possible. Her funeral will sell a lot of papers.”

  Louise frowned; she didn’t like that side of Camilla. “Leave them alone. I don’t know if they’ll make themselves available, but no matter what, I’m not getting mixed up in it.”

  “What the hell is all this!” Camilla said, off to the side.

  “What’s going on?” Louise said, still annoyed, but also curious.

  “Someone just delivered an entire flower shop to my office.”

  “Who from?” Louise had a bad feeling.

  “I don’t know. And don’t make it sound like it’s some big shock that someone sends me flowers. It happens occasionally. Let’s see…there’s a card here…‘To Morgenavisen’s most beautiful reporter—worth keeping an eye on.’”

  A long pause followed. “Who are they from?” Louise said.

  “There’s no name.”

  “What’s on the envelope?”

  “‘Camilla Lind,’ printed from a computer, I think. The card, too.”

  “Can you see where the flowers came from? A sticker on a ribbon, something on the envelope?”

  “Nope, just a white envelope, and the flowers are packed in cellophane, no logo or anything.”

  “Toss the shit out.”

  “No way. The flowers are beautiful, and anyway, I’ve gotten anonymous bouquets before.”

  “I don’t have time for this; I’ve got a lot to do. Please promise me you’ll be careful, but keep me out of it. I can’t do anything more for you if you can’t see what’s going on.”

  “So don’t,” Camilla snapped. “You’re the one who insisted on going along yesterday.”

  “I’ll talk to you later.” Louise hung up and stared straight ahead at nothing.