Bogman (3 page)

“He doesn’t need it. He’s rich. He has a lot more money than granny Inge,” said Tobias. “He seems nice. He doesn’t take himself too seriously. He’s sixty-five but he still goes to work every day. He has a waste disposal company.”

“Landfill or incineration? How much recycling?”
 

“I’ve only just met the guy, Agnes.”
 

There was a pause.
 

“I’m going on a protest tomorrow, Dad. I thought you should know.”

Tobias sat up. “What kind of protest? Where? What about.”

“They’re building a wind farm on the west coast.”

“So what’s the problem? You approve of alternative energy.”

“They’re cutting down a forest to build it. There’s no sense in that.”

Tobias thought there was probably a lot of economic sense in it, but he didn’t say so.
 

“Magnus says there are other sites. They don’t need to cut down the forest. I just wanted you to know in case the police got heavy,” said Agnes.

“They won’t get heavy if you stay within the law.”
 

Tobias heard a derisive snort.
 

“The police get heavy whether or not we stay within the law,” said his daughter.

“What exactly are you planning to do on this protest?” Tobias was immediately sorry he’d asked. If she were planning anything illegal he would have to warn the police in Esbjerg.
 

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t a policeman, Dad,” said Agnes.
 

“This has nothing to do with my being a policeman,” Tobias said sharply. “It has everything to do with being lucky enough to live in a democratic country under the rule of law. It’s the duty of every citizen, and that includes you, Agnes, and your boyfriend, to uphold the law. I have to warn you not to break it.” To his own ears, he sounded like a prig.

After a few moments of silence Agnes said, “We’re not breaking any laws. Unless climbing tress is illegal.”

Tobias groaned.
 

“Don’t worry, Dad. I’m not going to fall out of a tree. I’m going to be holding a banner at the bottom of a tree. Magnus is going to be in the tree. In fact he’s there already. He’s spending tonight in a tree in case they try to sneak the loggers in early.”

“I bet it’s cold and windy and you wish you were here.”

“It’s cosy in my tent,” said Agnes. Tobias could hear the smile in her voice.

“It’s not very cosy up a tree,” he said drily.
 

“Magnus won’t be up the tree all night.” Agnes chuckled. “Aksel’s here. He’ll take his turn. And there’ll be others tomorrow.” Her voice changed. “You don’t like Magnus, Dad. You don’t like that he’s an activist.”

“I just wish he was a bit more active in looking for a job.”

There was a pause. Tobias said in a more casual tone, “No lectures this week?”
 

“It’s half-term, Dad. Don’t you remember?”

Tobias smacked himself on the forehead. “Of course it is. Any chance of seeing you?”

“That ought to be the other way round, Dad. Last time we had a date for lunch you were called away, remember?”

“Sorry,” said Tobias. “It’s the job.”

“We’ll probably be here all half-term anyway,” Agnes said. “You might even see us on television.” She laughed, and rang off.

Tobias picked out a CD of Arvo Part and selected
Fur Alina
. Two minutes of perfection. He concentrated on each limpid, bell-like note. One hand, then the other hand, then two together. He’d played it for Hilde once. She had found it boring. When the last note sounded, he switched off the CD player and sat for a while picturing his brave, blonde idealistic daughter, wrapped up in a parka – he hoped she was wrapped up in a parka, it was probably blowing a gale on the west coast – standing vigil over a tree.

Monday: Week One

4.

Chief Superintendent Jens Larsen, Head of Special Investigations, and the prosecutor, Renata Molsing, were examining photographs spread across a table in Larsen’s office, when Tobias and Eddy Haxen arrived for a briefing.

Larsen looked up from the photographs. “So what do we know about this bog body?”
 

Not at lot so far,” said Tobias. “Forensics are still at the crime scene.”
 

“If it is a crime scene,” said Eddy. “We might end up sending the bones to a museum.”

“Well, at least we’ve shortened the process by giving them to Johann Brix,” said Larsen. “He’s good. We called him in to help after a multiple pile up a few years ago. He can send the remains to the museum if it turns out they’re from the Iron Age.”
 

“It only becomes a matter for us if the death occurred within a time frame which means the perpetrator could still be alive,” said Renata.
 

“So we could be looking at a ninety year old perpetrator? Assuming the death wasn’t accidental,” said Eddy.

“That split skull didn’t look like an accident to Harry Norsk,” said Tobias. “Nor to me.”

“We could be looking for killer who’s been dead for a thousand years,” said Eddy.

“Let’s wait to hear what Brix has to say,” said Renata Molsing.

“In the meantime, I suggest you get back out there, Lange,” said Larsen. “And keep me informed. Right?” He nodded his dismissal.

Katrine Skaarup was at her desk in the Investigations Room.
 

“So where do we begin?”

“We’re waiting to hear how old the bones are,” said Eddy.

“We could start searching for missing persons in the area,” said Katrine. Her face shone, she flexed her fingers as though ready to strike the keys of the computer and summon up names, dates and circumstances.
 

“We could be wasting our time,” said Eddy. “I’ve got a report to write up for Renata.” He settled himself at his desk.

“I’m going back to Roligmose,” said Tobias. He glanced at Katrine. Her face had fallen. “But it’s a good idea to be up to date on missing persons, just in case. Start ten years back and make a list.”
 

He thought he might enjoy being around Katrine for a while. Before her enthusiasm turned to cynicism and she lost the romantic notions he guessed had made her want to be a detective.
 

The sky was the colour of slate when he drove out of the city. Drops of rain spattered the windscreen. By the time he bumped down the track into the bog, a drizzle had become a downpour. He cursed a climate that even at the end of April could turn from sunshine and a light breeze to sleet and high winds in the space of a day. He parked between the forensics van and a solitary police car. The officer in the car lifted his head from the newspaper. Tobias gestured to him to stay where he was. The officer looked relieved. He returned to his newspaper.

Tobias pushed the car door open against the wind. Rain whipped his face. He put his head down, pulled up the hood of his jacket and squelched across the rough grass towards the tent. The model airplanes had vanished. The sides of the tent ballooned in the wind. Just as well they’d got it up when the weather was calm. He was glad to get inside it.
 

“Hi, Tobias.” The head of the forensics team, Karl Lund, raised a hand in greeting.
 

“I reckon we’ve got every bone and fragment of bone,” he said. “As well as this lot.” He pointed to a row of see-though plastic bags on the trestle table. “We found fragments of metal and four metal buttons, a silver buckle and a bracelet which feels like it could be bronze or silver. We’re still looking,” he nodded at two white-suited technicians on their knees combing through the grasses.
 

The rain stopped beating on the canvas. The wind softened. Tobias looked around. The ground sloped almost imperceptibly. A trickle of water had entered the tent. He followed it with his eyes to where it ran out under the opposite flap.
 

“The aerial photos showed a pond,” he said.

“Yeah. About ten metres away,” said Karl. “It’s cordoned off. We haven’t searched there yet.”

“I’d like to take a look at it.”

Karl handed him overshoes and orange plastic gloves. “At least it’s stopped raining.”
 

He led Tobias to a small oval of dark water concealed by tall reeds and grasses.
 

“It’s unlikely a body would be dumped on open ground, however remote,” Tobias said. “I wonder if this pond was bigger at one time.”
 

He crouched beside a tiny stream trickling through black earth into the pond.
 

“We can drag the pond,” said Karl.

“Hardly worth it until we know what we’re dealing with. I was just curious.” Tobias stood up. His foot dislodged a section of turf. He looked down and saw a thin round object, like a coin or medal.
 

“Have you got tweezers, Karl?”

Karl pulled a plastic bag from his pocket, ripped it open and handed Tobias a pair of tweezers.
 

“Looks like you’ve found another specimen for Professor Brix,” he said.
 

Tuesday: Week One

5.

Johann Brix had analysed human remains in the aftermath of airplane crashes, factory explosions and exhumations. He had identified bodies from bone and tissue fragments. He’d spent time at the famous Body Farm in Knoxville, Tennessee, studying how bodies decompose at different rates in different settings. He was the author of several research papers on tissue and bone rot in dry and damp conditions. But he had never examined human remains from the Iron Age. When he took delivery of the mummified foot and the bones and artefacts found in the bog, he felt a rising sense of excitement.
 

He began with an inventory of the bones. By one o’clock in the morning he had assembled a near complete skeleton. He began work again at eight o’clock. When Tobias and Harry Norsk arrived at his laboratory on Tuesday afternoon, he was using a ruler to measure the distance between the hip bones.
 

“Male,” he pronounced. “Female hips are wider. I thought he’d turn out to be male because of the height. I measured the skeleton at 1.61 metres. If I add 10 or 11 centimetres to account for the missing tissue and muscle that makes him 1.71 or 1.72 metres tall. Not especially tall by modern standards, but tall in Roman times.”

“Age at death?” asked Tobias.
 

“Probably between eighteen and twenty-eight. See where the clavicle, the collarbone, is joined to the sternum, the breast bone?”

Harry and Tobias leaned forward to look.
 

“You can see it’s not yet completely fused.”

Tobias couldn’t see but he was prepared to take the professor’s word for it. Harry was peering at the collarbone, nodding and muttering, “Yes, yes.”
 

“It begins to fuse around age 20 in young males,” said the professor. “Complete fusion occurs between age 26 and 30. This is nearly half-way there, wouldn’t you say?”
 

Harry nodded agreement.

“So he died in his early twenties,” said Tobias.

“He was killed,” said Harry. “Am I right?”

“Yes,” said Professor Brix. He took the skull into his hands and turned it so that Tobias and Harry could see the cleft at the back. “He was hit on the head with something like a rock or an axe.” Brix replaced the skull and pointed to the rib cage. “See the fractures?” He picked up the right upper arm bone. “See the break?” He laid his hand gently on the right hand of the skeleton. “I took a long time putting this hand together. There were so many small bones fractured.” He sighed. “The poor fellow was almost certainly beaten to death. Wouldn’t you agree, Harry?”

“I’d say he was turning away from the blows,” said Harry. “The injuries are all on the right side. The skull fracture is right side as well. When he fell, the murderer probably stamped on his hand.”
 

The three of them stood in silence for a moment.
 

“Was he killed in the bog, or somewhere else?” asked Tobias.

“It’s impossible to tell,” said Brix. “Your guess that he was dumped in the pond, and that the water level subsequently dropped, is almost certainly correct. From the order and position in which the bones were found, I’d say he was lying on his left side with his left arm under him and his right arm extended. He was probably rolled into the water, near where it’s fed by a small stream. The microenvironment around the stream is alkaline and preserved the bones. The ground near the feet is acid. It rotted the bones of the left foot but preserved the skin.”
 

The professor’s mobile rang. He held it to his ear. His face fell.
 

“One of my graduate students has managed to reconstitute the remnants of gauzy material found in the grave.” He paused. “Polyethylene Terephthalate. Otherwise known as Polyester.” He smiled ruefully. “I’d been hoping to hear they were from an Iron Age or Roman woven garment.” Another pause. “The metal fragments are parts of a zip fastener.”
 

His expression reminded Tobias of a child whose toy had been taken away.
 

“She’s sent me some images.” Brix moved to a desk a few feet from the stainless steel table on which the skeleton lay. He tapped the keys of an open laptop. “Take a look.”
 

A pair of trousers that seemed to be made of gossamer appeared on the screen.

“The rest of his clothing must have been mostly wool or cotton,” said Brix. “The synthetic fibres haven’t decomposed. What you’re seeing is the ghost of a pair of trousers.”

Tobias thought of his daughter, Agnes, and her passion for the environment. She would love the symbolism of the phantom trousers. He found himself smiling as he imagined telling her about them.
 

“Polyester has been around since the 1940s,” said Brix. “But it wasn’t used in clothing until the 1950s. It was used on its own at first. Then it became more popular in a blend.”

“Presumably at least one of the buttons found is from the trousers.” Tobias was already calculating that the death occurred within the prosecutor’s time frame. He felt a rush of adrenaline.