Farewell to Freedom (20 page)

That was three minutes away, and Mikkelsen nodded toward a woman with short, blonde hair.

“I think she's the first one,” he said softly. “It looks like she's hanging around, waiting, and I don't think it's for a train.”

The woman sat down on the very edge of the bench in front of the Danish National Railways' ticket window. She looked at her watch and clutched her little purse tightly under her arm.

Arian ambled up from the platform below with his hands in his pockets and his hair slicked back. As he passed the woman, she got up and quickly slipped him something. The next second she was gone. They didn't exchange a word.

Lars was still over by the escalators, while Mikkelsen had pulled back in case Arian recognized him. Although they'd never had anything to do with each other, people talked, and a lot of people in the prostitution world knew the officers from the local police station. Louise walked over and sat down on the bench. She set her purse in her lap and slowly opened a newspaper in front of her.

She watched the Albanian buy a cup of coffee and a roll. After that, he sat down at the table Mikkelsen had just left, and started flipping through one of the free newspapers Mikkelsen had left behind.

Then they came, one at a time. Handing him their money and leaving. It looked like friends happening to bump into each other. A short greeting, and then the women moved on. Arian only took a couple of bites of his food, and Louise had the sense he was dragging it out, killing time like every other person who was waiting for the next train.

A young woman approached him hesitantly, her eyes trained on the floor. Every once in a while she raised her face and glanced at him fleetingly, while everything about her body language suggested she did not want to walk over to him.

Louise instinctively knew that Arian had seen the woman, even though his eyes were still focused on his newspaper. When she finally made it up to his café table, Louise watched her lips forming the words while she gestured in despair with her arms. Louise also saw how quickly Arian was up out of his chair and how aggressively he pulled the woman to him so they were standing face to face. He leaned in threateningly as he chewed her out.

Several people walking by saw the incident, but quickly looked away, opting to hurry on toward their destinations.

Just then someone came running toward Arian and the woman. Louise saw Mikkelsen step forward as Lars approached from the escalators.

Hamdi brutally pushed the woman away and pulled Arian aside as he angrily and nervously delivered a message. Whatever he said drove the men to leave, running toward the station's rear exit and then down the stairs toward Reventlowsgade.

Lars followed them, and Mikkelsen walked over to the young woman, who had sat down, shaken.

Louise guessed Mikkelsen asked her if she was all right because the woman quickly nodded, brushed aside his expression of concern, and hurried off.

There were two options, and Louise wavered between keeping an eye on the young woman and following her partner. But when Mikkelsen started to head for the escalator, Louise decided to stay, watching the woman's nervous looks and frightened expression.

It took a little while before Louise realized her cell phone was ringing in her purse, and by the time she noticed it she was afraid it was too late.

But Willumsen's voice was clear and precise, and he didn't waste any time on hellos.

“A German tourist just pulled a young foreign woman out of Copenhagen Harbor, alive,” Willumsen reported succinctly. “I want you to go down to National Hospital right away and talk to her. The tourist spotted her while he was pulled over figuring out where he was on his map.”

“Do we know anything about what happened?” Louise asked.

“She was lying in the water with both hands tied behind her back, and a pouch hanging under her shirt against her stomach contained a Czech passport listing her name as Hana Simrová, born in 1990. There was also some cash. We're trying to get the female interpreter in right now, the one we used with Pavlína. We'll send her straight to the hospital when we get hold of her. Toft and Stig are on their way down to the harbor; their tracker shows that ‘our' Audi A4 left the Albanian's Valby address at 10:13
A
.
M
. and, strangely enough, was at on Kalvebod Wharf on Copenhagen Harbor only half an hour ago,” Willumsen said.

“Wow, that's quite brazen, throwing her into the water in broad daylight,” Louise commented once he'd finished. “I'm sure you won't be surprised that the Audi showed up at Central Station less than ten minutes ago. At least, Hamdi came running in and got Arian.”

Louise stood up and asked if he'd reserved patrol cars for the detectives so she could head straight to the motor pool, or if she had to go upstairs and sign a car out first.

“Just go straight there. I'll make sure there's a car waiting for you.”

From the sidewalk out front she called Lars to update him on Willumsen's information.

“I'm on my way to National Hospital now, but I'd really like to know what the wiretap picks up for the next couple hours,” Louise said as she crossed Bernstoffsgade and continued past Tivoli toward the police parking garage.

23

A
YOUNG WOMAN
,
PALE AND WRAPPED IN A LARGE BATHROBE
, was sitting on a chair in the examining room. She had a towel wrapped around her hair so her face was exposed only from eyes to chin, where she had pulled up the bathrobe like a collar. She was holding a plastic mug of hot chocolate, and her eyes wandered a little as Louise held out her hand and introduced herself.

The interpreter wasn't there yet, so Louise tried English and asked if the woman understood.

“A little,” she replied, eyeing Louise uncertainly before confirming that her name was Hana Simrová.

The door opened and a nurse peeked in. She told Louise that she had been the first one to see the woman when she arrived in the ambulance.

“At first glance it doesn't appear that she's endured any serious harm, but she is suffering from exposure and of course is in shock,” she said. “I'll send the doctor in as soon as she's done with the patient in the next room.”

Louise nodded and turned back to the young woman, but didn't have a chance to say anything before the interpreter opened the door.

The interpreter smiled at Louise and walked over to the chair and said hello to Hana. The girl crept farther into the bathrobe every time a new person stepped into the hospital room, but when the interpreter started speaking Czech, Hana's shoulders seemed to relax a little.

“Have you spoken with Pavlína since that day?” the interpreter asked Louise as she took off her jacket and laid it over the back of the chair.

“Pavlína!” Hana exclaimed and seemed desperate as she spoke a long stream of Czech words directly to the interpreter.

Louise leaned forward in her chair and listened, even though she didn't understand the slightest bit of what was being said. To her it sounded like chains of wood being pulled through the room, rising and falling in strength. Hana gesticulated madly, and the interpreter's face turned serious. She pulled her chair all the way over to Hana while Louise stayed back. Finally the flood of words ebbed, and the woman started shaking. Louise stepped over to the crying woman and introduced herself. The doctor slipped in quietly.

“Louise,” the doctor said quickly. “Would you mind waiting outside while I examine her?” She looked at her through small gold-rimmed glasses. “But I'm sure I'll be needing your help,” she said to the interpreter.

It was fifteen minutes before the door opened again. Louise asked if she could come back in.

The towel around Hana's head had come loose, and her long blonde hair hung like a fraying rope down her back.

“It turns out that Hana here knows a Pavlína, and I think it must be the same Pavlína we talked to because she also mentioned a MiloÅ¡,” the interpreter explained.

Louise raised an eyebrow and looked at the young Czech woman. Her head was bent as she studied her hands folded in her lap. It wasn't until Hana raised her face holding out her empty cup to the nurse who came in to offer her more hot chocolate that Louise recognized Hana from the airport and their brief encounter on the street.

“Ask her if she's Pavlína's sister,” Louise said.

The Czech woman shook her head, and the interpreter explained that they were just friends. “She lost her cell phone in the water, so she can't call MiloÅ¡ Vituk and tell him what happened. She wants to know if we can call them so they'll come get her. She doesn't know where they live.”

“Of course,” Louise said. “But let's go down to Police Headquarters first so we can take her statement. That's where MiloÅ¡'s phone number is, anyway. If you didn't bring your own car, you can ride with us. You'll have to come so I can ask her about what happened at the harbor.”

At HQ they ran into Toft in the hallway. He had just returned from the harbor and was on his way into the small room where they were monitoring the wiretap.

He greeted Hana politely and told Louise that several witnesses had seen the Audi at the wharf, but no one had seen the woman being thrown into the water.

Louise nodded toward the office where Igli was sitting, listening in on the wiretap.

“Has there been anything?” Louise asked.

“Surprisingly little,” Toft admitted.

“I'm on my way to call MiloÅ¡ Vituk and tell him what happened. Then he or Pavlína can bring Hana some dry clothes. I'll come see you after I've taken her statement,” Louise said, disappearing into her office and shutting her door behind her.

24

I
T DIDN
'
T TAKE LONG
. H
ANA
S
IMROVÁ WAS EIGHTEEN AND FROM
Ústí nad Labem in the Czech Republic, just like Pavlína. She had come to Denmark to visit Pavlína and was staying with her at Miloš Vituk's apartment. That morning, right as Pavlína and she had reached the front hallway of the building on their way outside, a car pulled up to the curb in front of them.

“What time did this happen?” Louise asked, watching her.

Hana didn't know. Maybe 10:00 or a little after.

“It all happened so quickly,” the interpreter explained. “She thinks they must have been watching them. Two big, muscular guys jumped out of the back seat and grabbed hold of her. Pavlína screamed, but they hit her so hard she fell down. And then they drove away, leaving Pavlína behind. Hana doesn't remember anything else.”

Louise asked about the plastic ties Hana's wrists were bound with.

“They twisted her arms behind her back before she had a chance to fight. They put them on in the car, and it hurt. But she was so scared that she just closed her eyes, because she didn't know what was going to happen or what they were going to do with her.”

“What did they look like?”