Part 20 (1/2)

Louise had a copy of the police report in front of her. Ruth had had it waiting when they got back from Copenhagen, and Louise could see that a caseworker had been there during the questioning, which was standard procedure whenever someone underage was involved. Something had obviously gone wrong in terms of updating the case, because it didn't say anywhere in the paperwork that the preliminary charge had been found to be baseless.

”There's also a report of a.s.sault?” Louise said, pulling out another piece of paper.

”The same day the girl went to the police, she sent an e-mail out to several of the magazines and papers I work for and to the biggest modeling agencies in the city, telling her story.”

There was something generous about the way he talked about her, as if he didn't really want to accuse her of such poor behavior.

”She was a little girl, and my daughter's friend. At that point, my daughter didn't have any room for more upheaval in her life.”

Louise was starting to get irritated, but reined herself in. He was almost being too selfless about what he'd been subjected to for Louise to take him seriously.

”You beat a man down so severely that he was in the hospital for a long time with facial fractures,” she fished, to put an end to what she interpreted as a self-aggrandizing defense soliloquy.

He nodded.

”The story about the girl was making its way around the city. A few people knew how it all fit together. I got the girl's parents to write a letter to the people the girl had contacted, in which they explained that the report was made up. But not everyone who had heard the story received such a letter and the incident you mention happened one night after I'd had a little too much to drink and was maybe a little touchier than usual, so it all got out of hand when another photographer started egging me on.”

Louise nodded and asked him to explain in more detail.

”There's nothing more to say. I just couldn't stand to listen to any more whispering behind my back and didn't feel like I should have to keep defending myself for something I didn't do. So my temper got away from me.”

Louise nodded and proceeded.

”Did Dicta have what it takes to make it as a model?” Louise asked, picturing the tall girl with the prominent cheekbones. Louise had no doubt that the girl had radiated charisma and the boys certainly turned to look at her in the street, but forging a career was a totally different matter.

He contemplated that for a bit before he started nodding.

”I think she had a reasonable shot. She was just too impatient. She expected the agencies to line up the instant they heard about her, and it just isn't that easy,” he said. ”She apparently posed a little for a photographer up here and he succeeded in building up her image of herself into something really amazing in her own mind, but reality isn't like that.”

”She was actually used as a model here in town,” Louise said to vindicate Dicta a little.

”It's a h.e.l.l of a long way from a picture in a free small-town newspaper to the big magazines,” he said, and in an instant arrogance swept the relaxed look off his face.

”Well, actually, it was Venstrebladet,” Louise pointed out, grabbing the chance for a new angle. ”Give me an idea how many visits it takes to a celebrity photographer to get three thousand crowns' worth of portfolio pictures.”

That shook him a little, but he didn't respond.

”And does it often happen that you drag it out all day and invite them out for sus.h.i.+ and other goodies after the pictures are taken?”

He didn't say anything, so she kept going.

”Last Sat.u.r.day around 11:00 P.M., I ran into Dicta in front of the train station here in Holbaek. She was so drunk, she was hunched over in the middle of the bike racks throwing up.”

He was about to say something when she interrupted him and kept going, her voice still calm and steady.

”A visit to a cafe and sus.h.i.+ up in your penthouse apartment. Why did you want to impress her when she was already in high spirits from the adventure she had set out on?”

He sat there with a wrinkle in his brow, which showed that his rage was building; she discreetly followed his attempts to control it.

”I think you misunderstood that,” he said finally. ”Did she tell you that story? It's true that we ate brunch and that I invited her out for a gla.s.s of champagne after the pictures were taken. I usually do that when I wrap up a job.”

”But she made up the part about your opening multiple bottles that night?” Louise asked, watching him.

He nodded.

”Did she also make up your eating sus.h.i.+ together?”

He said that Dicta had been hungry before she went home.

”She had the money to pay you three thousand crowns, but not to buy herself a hot dog at Norreport Station?” Louise let the question hang in the air, and then continued: ”How many times did you see her that day?”

She could see that he was going to deny that he had seen her at all since then, so she reformulated the question. ”How many times did you have contact with her?”

He remained silent.

”She came by a couple of times,” he finally said, ”so we could pick which pictures would go in her portfolio. But otherwise I didn't see her.”

”Did you agree to her sending that picture to Ekstra Bladet?” Finally some response was visible in his eyes. They squinted, nearly closed, and darkened. ”What f.u.c.king picture?”

Louise explained about his picture of Dicta appearing in Ekstra Bladet.

”I didn't f.u.c.king send in any picture. How do you think it makes me look if people see my name next to a page-nine girl?” he asked, outraged and angry.

Louise couldn't restrain herself. ”I don't give a rat's a.s.s how you look. How do you think Dicta looks? Now, you tell me what the f.u.c.k went on between the two of you. I don't want to hear any more bulls.h.i.+t about you and your actual intentions.”

He pulled back slightly in his chair and seemed more surprised than threatened.

”There's nothing else to tell.”

Louise took a deep breath before she spoke again.

”I'm sorry I got all worked up. But I actually knew Dicta Moller in connection with another case we're working on, and it was terrible to see her lying down there in the parking lot with her skull crushed.”

He had once more pulled his compa.s.sionate look down over his face when he said that that was perfectly all right, but his eyes were hard again when Louise repeated the question about how his photo of an undressed Dicta had ended up in Ekstra Bladet.

”She must have sent it in herself,” he said, almost snorting the words.

Louise stood up to go check with Storm if it might not be a good idea to hold off on pressing Tue Sunds any harder until they'd ransacked Dicta's room and had maybe found more that would help them get a picture of the relations.h.i.+p the two of them had had.

”Agreed,” Storm said and then told her that Dean had been in touch with Ekstra Bladet's photo editor, who had just gotten back to him with the information that the picture had been sent in by the girl herself with a return envelope that was addressed to her own address. Dean had also checked that the account the money was supposed to be deposited into was Dicta's.

Louise leaned against the wall and stood there for a moment, feeling how the energy that had been coursing through her during Tue Sunds's questioning had now suddenly left her body.