Part 25 (1/2)
”Did her parents know about it?” Mik asked, also wanting to know if it was something that had been discussed in the rest of the family.
Louise was on the edge of her seat.
”Someone did,” Ahmad finally responded.
It was obvious that he was not inclined to provide any more details.
”What boyfriend are we talking about?” Mik asked. ”Was he Danish?”
Louise had leaned back and was watching Ahmad while she contemplated why he was telling them this, something that frankly would not help Ibrahim or Hamid's case, and she wondered why Ahmad was the one who was providing them with this information, considering how many people they'd talked to who had all denied that Samra had a boyfriend. Maybe the girl had confided in her uncle. Even though he was obviously male and a chauvinist to boot, he was younger than her parents and she had spent a fair amount of time at his house.
Samra's uncle nodded.
”Can you tell us who he is?”
Now Ahmad shook his head and apologized.
Louise caught Mik's eye and held it a second before standing up and excusing herself from the room.
Out in the hallway, she quickly headed for Skipper and Dean's office and found them each sitting with a big piece of chocolate cake in front of them. She stopped abruptly in the door, p.i.s.sed off for a second that they were just sitting there chilling out and having fun while she and Mik were slaving away on the investigation.
”It's Else,” Skipper said, pointing at the cake, as if that explained how it had ended up on his plate.
”There's more,” Dean said, smiling at her, although he seemed to sober up when he saw the serious expression on her face.
She quickly filled them in, telling them she and Mik had brought Samra's uncle in and that he had just told them his niece had had a Danish boyfriend.
”Or, at any rate, a friend,” she corrected herself, looking at Dean. ”Why do you think he's telling us that? He could just as easily have left that out. All he's accomplis.h.i.+ng is he's reinforcing our suspicions of Ibrahim and Hamid, because now we suddenly have a concrete reason for them to have killed her.
”Why is he telling us this?” she repeated when Dean took another bite of his cake as he apparently considered the question.
”So there will be no doubt that the act occurred to restore the family's honor,” he finally responded after he'd finished chewing. ”He's not saying it to help us. It's a signal to the rest of the family and their social circle that the matter has been dealt with.”
Louise pulled a heavy sweater over her head and strolled down toward Nygade to eat lunch at the small local brewery, where the beer was every bit as good as the Czech draft beer at Svejk back home in Frederiksberg. Mik was driving Ahmad back to Benlose, and after lunch she would pay the Moller family a visit.
She ordered a large beer and the herring plate, on which the head brewer had left his mark by including a beer-marinated pickled herring. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to have a meal like this in the middle of the day, but honestly she didn't care. She needed it.
It irked her that Samra's uncle was only now starting to share what he knew. He hadn't said a word that would point in this direction the first time Mik had talked to him. Although, true, she didn't know if he'd been asked, but it certainly would have been nice if they'd known this before they started questioning people, because now they had to ascertain that Samra's friends either hadn't known about any relations.h.i.+p or were holding back and didn't want to get mixed up in anything.
She drank half of her large beer in one go. Then glanced quickly around the restaurant to see if anyone had noticed, but no one seemed interested in the beer-guzzling woman sitting by herself in the corner. Her herring had just arrived when her cell phone started ringing.
”h.e.l.lo,” she said when she saw it was Camilla. It took a little while before she could understand what her friend was saying. The sobbing made her voice unclear, and her words came out in hiccups.
”He killed himself?” Louise asked once she'd finally pieced together a bit of sense from the stream of words in her ear. ”Of course I'd go with you, but are you sure it's a good idea?” Louise asked.
She sat there holding her phone to her ear with one hand and drinking her beer with the other while the weeping Camilla explained that she couldn't decide what to do. Finally Louise repeated that she would go if Camilla decided to attend the funeral. That calmed her friend down and then, to distract her, Louise said they'd just brought Samra's uncle in and that he'd told them his niece had had a Danish boyfriend before she died.
”I think you're wasting your time by focusing so much on the family,” Camilla said. ”We're so full of prejudices about the way they behave and in reality we Danes aren't a d.a.m.n bit better ourselves.”
It surprised Louise that she hadn't piqued Camilla's curiosity more. It just wasn't like her not to ask for more information about a detail like the one Louise had just given her.
”What do you mean?” Louise asked, signaling to the waiter that she'd like a small draft beer.
”You can read all about it in Morgenavisen,” Camilla continued.
The beer arrived on her table and Louise asked for the check.
”Maybe you're the one who should hold back a little until you find out what our investigation turns up, so you don't waste your time on some dead end,” Louise retorted, smiling at her phone. They had eventually found balance in their relations.h.i.+p, the police detective and the journalist, but that didn't stop them from giving each other a hard time when it was justified.
”Yes, well, let's just see which of us is on the right track,” Camilla said, finally sounding a little less overwhelmed. ”Are you going out to sit on that farmer's beer bench tonight?” she asked before they wrapped up the conversation.
Louise felt a little flutter in her stomach at the thought. ”It's not out of the question,” she said, happy that her friend couldn't see the red glow her cheeks had suddenly taken on.
35.
ONLY AFTER LOUISE HAD RUNG THE DOORBELL FOR THE SECOND time did she notice the silence. There was no barking from the yard or from inside the house, but the big four-wheel-drive was parked in the driveway, which confused her.
She rang again, then walked over and peered in the kitchen window. The house seemed empty. She walked around it once. The curtains were drawn in several of the windows. She stopped for a moment, leaning against the wall, to think. She could call them when she got back to the station. It wasn't because this couldn't wait. She wanted to see how they were doing, given the two arrests, and talk to them about the funeral, which was scheduled for Monday.
An unpleasant mood had taken hold of the town as the rumors had spread that Samra's father and brother had been taken into custody in the case, and in particular, the news that they were also being charged for Dicta's murder had ratcheted things up to a fever pitch. The police were prepared for a big turnout at Dicta's funeral and, along with the local detective inspector, Storm had agreed to send a handful of officers to keep the peace among the many teenagers who needed an outlet for their sorrow and anger. Anne and Henrik were informed of the situation, but had announced that everyone was welcome and said that afterward, there would be beer and soft drinks down at the youth hostel for anyone who wished to come.
Louise called them one last time. When they still didn't pick up, she climbed back into her car and drove back downtown; but instead of heading for the police station, she turned down Ahlgade and parked outside Henrik's chiropractic clinic.
She trotted quickly up the stairs and after she introduced herself, asked the receptionist if she knew where Henrik Moller was.
”Yeah, of course. He's here,” she said with a smile.
Louise looked at her in confusion. ”I had understood that he wasn't coming in until after the funeral,” she said, speaking quietly because of the patients in the waiting room.
”That was the plan, but he came in this morning and has been taking patients all day. I didn't really have the heart to talk him out of it.”
The receptionist's hair hung around her head in loose curls. She had warm, cheerful eyes, and when she spoke about her boss her voice contained equal parts concern and care.
”There is actually a break in his schedule when he's done with this current patient. Because I'm a.s.suming you would like to speak to him,” she said, eyeing Louise inquisitively.
”Yes, please. I'll make it quick.”
Louise sat down and grabbed a magazine, but had only just flipped to the first page when the receptionist called her name.
”I'm sorry to bother you. I hadn't realized you were back at work,” Louise began once she was in Moller's office. She explained that she had actually just come to ask if his receptionist had any idea where he was.
”I hadn't planned on coming back so soon,” he said, tipping his desk chair back. He rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms up in the air and folded them behind his head.
He looked tired.
”I just stopped by your place, but there wasn't anyone home,” Louise continued.