The Dinosaur Feather (44 page)

“I know where I’ve seen that guy before.”

Søren was about to drive out of the basement garage, but pulled in and waved a colleague past.

“Go on.”

“He’s on the outside of Magasin. I drove past this morning. There’s a huge poster on the front of the building.” Yes, she was sure. Søren thanked her and drove into the city center rather than home. He parked at Saint Annæ Plads and walked a few hundred meters down Bredgade, past Charlottenborg and up to Magasin. The giant poster faced the square. It depicted a man and a woman. The woman smiled flirtatiously, baring her bright white teeth. She was wearing a soft pink sweater and tight jeans, and she held out her hand behind her to the man who was about to slip an ostentatious gold ring on her finger. The man was handsome, even Søren could see that. Auburn hair, brown eyes, scattered freckles. He smiled, mischievously, but he appeared sure of his success. Behind his back, he held a Swiss army knife with multiple functions, and the message of the poster was that once the Magasin sale started, the man would be able to afford the ring for her and the knife for himself. Søren stared at the man’s face. He was around thirty, a little less perhaps, and he didn’t look like someone who frequented the Red Mask. Søren quickly came up with a plan: contact Magasin’s marketing department and identify the model. But that couldn’t be done until Monday morning. Damn! He looked at his watch. He was off duty now, but he had no urge to go home to his silent empty house. He called Henrik.

“No problem,” Henrik said. “Come over.”

Henrik lived with his family on the outskirts of Østerbro, and Søren spent the rest of the evening there. They ate together, and Søren was fascinated by Henrik’s teenage daughters who were simultaneously distant and omnipresent. One man had a daughter who would never grow bigger, a tiny daughter with tiny feet in tiny socks, another man had two daughters, with curves, who picked at their food, answered back, and had bright eyes. Søren liked Henrik’s wife and couldn’t imagine why he was having an affair. Jeanette was five years younger than her husband and worked as an administrator at a nursery school. After dinner, the men cleared the table, the girls disappeared to their bedrooms, and Henrik’s wife went to the gym. For a moment, Henrik looked nervous.

He and Søren got two beers and discussed the cases. As far as Helland was concerned, Henrik, too, was of the opinion they had to check out Hanne Moritzen. Professor Moritzen was the only person who really knew how to handle parasites, and even though they could attribute no motive to her, there had to be one. They agreed Henrik would investigate her on Monday to see if he could establish a link between her and Professor Helland.

But Henrik frowned when Søren went on to suggest that Helland might have been murdered by his wife.

“Why would she kill him? She has no motive,” Henrik objected. “And she knows nothing about parasites.” The two men looked at each other.

“Tybjerg, however, has a motive,” Henrik continued. “He’s fed up with standing in Helland’s shadow and decides to get rid of him. He may not know much about parasites, but he is a biologist, so he can find out.”

Søren remained unconvinced.

“Birgit Helland is hiding something. I can feel it.”

“So is Anna Bella Nor,” Henrik said. “And she has a motive.”

“Which is?”

“She’s a killer bitch from hell who eliminates any man who crosses her path. Possibly even Johannes. You have to agree it’s odd that two men, whom Anna Nor has been around since she started her graduate program, die within three days of each other, or is that just me?”

“I don’t think Johannes Trøjborg’s death is related to Helland’s. I think we need to visit Count Dracula’s castle if we’re to have a hope of finding the man who killed him. Or woman.”

Henrik nodded and they agreed to check out everyone who had been to the Red Mask on September 7.

“I still think Anna is an enigma,” Henrik insisted. “Perhaps she and Dr. Tybjerg are an item and they killed Helland together? To be crowned the new king and queen of the dinosaur experts.”

“I don’t want to talk shop anymore,” Søren said, stretching out.

“Fine by me. But I don’t want to talk about you-know-what. I told her today that it’s over.” Henrik’s eyes flickered.

They drank more beer. Henrik leaned back and said: “Ahhh.”

Then Søren told him a story about a little boy who went on vacation to the North Sea coast and got trapped in the car with his dead parents.

They got drunk. Not very, but enough for Søren to relax. Just after midnight he called for two cabs. One to take him home and another to drive his car back. When the cabs beeped their horns and Søren was about to leave, he went to shake Henrik’s hand, but Henrik would have none of it. He hugged him. For longer and harder than the other day.

When Søren got home, he went to bed and slept soundly for thirty minutes, exactly, before his cell rang. He was deep into a weird dream about dogs with thick, glossy coats. He was looking after them, or he owned them, and he could control them by winking. He was the only man in the universe who could do that. Dazed, he sat up in bed, clammy with sweat though there was frost on the outside of the window. The ringing stopped, but when he swung his feet over the edge of his bed, it started again. It was charging under his clothes, which he had left in a pile, and when he finally found it, it had switched to voice mail. He entered the pin code but before he had time to do anything else, it started ringing again.

“Hello,” he said in a rusty voice.

It was Anna.

“Why don’t you answer your phone? What’s the point of having a policeman’s cell number if he isn’t there when you need him?” Anna shouted. Søren wondered if her teeth were clattering as well. He looked at his alarm clock. It was 1:55 a.m.

“I was asleep,” he said. “What’s happened?” He was awake now. He switched on the light and fumbled for his clothes.

“I’ve just received a text message from Johannes,” she informed him.

Søren said, “Hang on.” He quickly got dressed then he picked up his phone again.

“Where are you?” he wanted to know.

“Right across from Bellahøj police station, as it happens. I was in Herlev and I decided to walk home. I received the text just as I passed the Lyngby highway exit and it was quite dark, so I ran. Now I’m here. It’s cold, I’m sweaty, and I’m going home.”

He was puzzled.

“What were you doing in Herlev?” he asked.

There was silence down the other end.

“I’m calling to say I got a text message from a dead man,” she said at last, “and perhaps you need to ratchet up your investigation a notch before his cell is switched off again. It’s probably too late already, given what a heavy sleeper you are. It’s been a long day. Good night.”

“Stop, Anna!”

Søren was cut off.

“Damn!”

He called her. It went to voice mail.

It was 2:05 in the morning and he was wide awake.

“Damn!” he said again.

He called the station and spoke to the duty officer who had been just about to call him. Johannes Trøjborg’s missing cell, which they had been keeping an eye on since last Wednesday, had just been active. The activity was traced to the corner of Schlegels Allé and Vesterbrogade, and the phone was moving down Vesterbrogade toward the city center. One minute and twenty seconds after sending the message, it was switched off. Søren hung up and very slowly ate five apples. It felt like they started fermenting in his stomach right away, something was certainly brewing. He called Anna’s number ten times, but got no reply. He stared into the forest; the moon hung huge and round over the ragged line of the treetops. He touched the window and could feel the cold through the glass like a faint electric current. Was he protecting Anna because he was attracted to her? Was Henrik right? Had Anna killed Helland? Out of hate? Had she killed Johannes? But why? Had they been too quick to discount Professor Freeman? Had he sat in a church with a killer today and let him go? Was it Mrs. Helland, was it obvious to everyone except him? And Dr. Tybjerg. Where did he fit into the picture? And where was he? Dead? Or had he gone underground because he was guilty?

Søren showered. As he stood, heavy and naked, on the cold bathroom floor, he suddenly felt things were about to change. There were no more obstacles in his path. He got dressed and made coffee. He spent two hours making notes, drawing stick people on pieces of paper and moving them around on the floor. Then he lay down on the sofa and slept for a couple of hours. At eight o’clock he got up and made oatmeal. While it simmered, he splashed water on his face. He thought about Susanne Winther. The terror in her voice when she thought something might have happened to Magnus, her little son. He had loved his daughter just as much, though he had only seen her a few times while she was a baby, the size of a bean. What had Søren said the night Bo called from Thailand? Had his eyes widened and had he whispered: “Is Maja all right?” No. He had screamed: “Pull yourself together, you fucking freak!”

What was it Professor Moritzen had said?

The very first time he called her.

She had whispered: “Is Asger all right?”

It was nine o’clock, it was Sunday, and a huge weight fell from Søren’s shoulders; he had finally gotten his touch back.

Chapter 16

When Anna got home, she climbed into bed next to Karen and slept soundly. In the morning she made pancakes and treated Lily to a bubble bath. Every time Karen passed her, Anna gave her a hug. Karen was overjoyed but confused.

“What are you up to?” she wanted to know.

Anna smiled softly.

“It’s just that . . .” She shook her head.

Karen asked if she could get Lily out of the bath, so Anna went into the living room. She had received another text message from Johannes’s mobile.

Can we meet at my place?
it said.

Anna replied:
No. The Natural History Museum. 3 p.m. Or I call the police.
Then she returned to the bathroom. Karen was sitting on the toilet seat with a towel in her lap. Lily was squealing with delight at a plastic Bambi bath toy with a Santa-Claus-style foam beard. Anna’s heart sank. She was about to make Karen very sad. Gently, she put her hand on Karen’s back.

“I thought it might be a good idea to visit Cecilie,” she suggested. Lily stood up among the bubbles and held up her arms.

“Granny, Granny,” she shouted. Karen turned around and gave Anna a baffled look.

They walked through Assistens Cemetery. It took them nearly an hour. Lily was in her snowsuit and insisted on climbing everything. Anna and Karen wandered side by side, taking in the snow-covered landscape.

They bought cakes filled with chopped pistachios and a bag of dry, sweet rolls from an Arab bakery in Nørrebrogade. Anna and Lily stopped outside every store and admired the displays. Anna pointed and said, “Look at that” or “Isn’t that cute.”

“Come on,” Karen implored them, shivering. “Walking slowly isn’t going to get you out of it.”

Anna shot her a look.

Karen and Lily raced each other up the stairs. Anna followed. She heard joyous commotion when Cecilie opened the door.

“Hunnybunny!” Cecilie exclaimed. “Hi, Karen! How lovely to see you. Come here, sweetheart, let me give you a big hug. I’ve missed you so much.”

When Anna reached Cecilie’s apartment, Cecilie had lifted Lily up and was holding her tightly. She spotted Anna over Lily’s shoulder and paled.

“Hi, Anna,” she said, putting Lily down. Lily slipped into the apartment with familiar ease.

“Hi, Mom,” Anna said, her cheek brushing her mother’s.

“Come in. It’s freezing outside.”

Inside the hall Lily quickly pulled her toys from a big blue box and started playing. She was still in her snowsuit and wool hat. Karen helped her out of them.

“Look, this is my bed when I’m at Granny’s,” Lily chatted. “And look, I’ve got dollies, too. A little dolly and a big dolly. And teddies and books.” Karen admired everything. Anna remained in the hall. Cecilie smiled nervously.

“Aren’t you going to take off your jacket?”

“No, I’m not staying. There’s something I need to do. Is that okay with you, Karen?”

Karen looked puzzled, but she nodded.

“Are you still sulking?” Cecilie wanted to know. “Am I still banned from helping out with Lily?” She smiled patronizingly.

“Have you spoken to Jens?” Anna asked.

Cecilie blinked.

“I speak to Jens every day, Anna.”

Cecilie’s gaze was expectant and a little wounded, as if she was waiting for Anna to apologize for shouting at her the other day. Anna watched her mother in silence, aware of how uncomfortable Karen was at being monkey-in-the middle. Then Karen took charge of Lily, lifted her up, and carried her into the living room with a book. Cecilie suddenly looked ill-at-ease, as if she sensed that something was wrong.

“I know everything, Mom,” Anna said in a thick voice.

Cecilie blinked again.

“Sorry, what?”

“I know you had postpartum depression when I was born. I know you couldn’t take care of me, that you didn’t feed me properly. I know my name used to be Sara, because Dad loved that name; I know he took care of me as best he could. I know you came home from the hospital when I was nearly a year old, and I know you didn’t want anyone to ever know you had been ill. I know everything.”

Cecilie’s jaw dropped.

“I also know you love me,” Anna continued. “That you try to make up for it every day. I know you love Lily more than anything, and I know you’re afraid I will fail her, as you failed me. I think you got scared when Thomas left and I was so distraught I could barely take care of her. I hit rock bottom, and you thought history might repeat itself. You were afraid I might hurt Lily, like you hurt me.”

Cecilie had said nothing. Now she gasped for air and let out a dry, agonizing howl.

“But I’m not you, Mom,” Anna said, gently. “I’m Anna Bella, and I’ve never been ill way you were. True, I struggled . . . I felt angry and impotent because Thomas had abandoned us. But I was never ill, and I have never failed Lily.” Anna fixed Cecilie with her eyes. She stepped forward, took Cecilie’s hand, and pulled her toward her. Cecilie was rigid with fear and resisted, but Anna kept hugging her.

“What happened was bad, Mom,” she said into Cecilie’s hair. “But it happened. I can live with it. Now that I finally know,” she added. “Lily loves you. You’re her granny. But don’t try to protect her from something that has nothing to do with us.” Anna grabbed her mother’s shoulders.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” she said, firmly.

Cecilie’s face dissolved. She still hadn’t uttered a word. She nodded. Anna embraced her again.

When Cecilie composed herself, Anna kissed her daughter and Karen good-bye, gave Cecilie another hug, and left.

Anna opened the door to the Vertebrate Collection, stepped into the twilight and called out. “Dr. Tybjerg, where are you? I need to talk to you.”

She was impatient and when she heard a noise coming from the far end of the room, she marched directly toward it. Suddenly he appeared in front of her, just like the last time. Dark-eyed and surrounded by shadows.

“Why are you shouting?” he asked.

“Why did you blackmail Professor Helland?”

Dr. Tybjerg’s eyes widened. He didn’t look like he intended to give her an answer.

Anna leaned toward him and, very calmly, said, “I ought to suspect you, you know.”

“Of what?” he said, genuinely surprised.

“Of killing Helland. You’re the only one I can think of who actually has a motive. You were Helland’s crown prince, and now the king is dead.”

“That’s utter garbage,” Dr. Tybjerg said. “Lars was my friend.”

He retreated into the darkness. Anna followed him.

“But you were blackmailing him?”

“The two things aren’t remotely connected,” he said. “One is about science, about research; the other is about friendship. Friendship and science are two irreconcilable entities. Lars would have done the same, he said. Everyone puts pressure on you. That’s just how it is. Desperate times call for desperate measures. And the times are truly desperate.” Dr. Tybjerg gave her a fraught look.

“But
why
? Seven thousand kroner a month for three years. That’s serious money.”

Dr. Tybjerg momentarily looked stunned, then he shrugged.

“To fund my research. I’ve already said so.” He took another step into the dark and Anna pursued him.

“How did you blackmail him? Come on, help me out here.”

Dr. Tybjerg shrugged again.

“I discovered Lars had an illegitimate son. His name’s Asger.”

Asger. The name rang a bell.

“Asger used to be my friend, but not even Asger knew he was Helland’s son. It was a scandal. Or rather, it would have been had it become known that Professor Helland had had an affair with one of his students. She was a nineteen-year-old undergraduate and Helland was her tutor. Asger’s mother hasn’t told her son who his father is.” Dr. Tybjerg suddenly looked horrified at Anna. “Asger attended lectures given by his own father and he never knew, can you imagine? Asger and I aren’t friends anymore. He changed when he lost his job. Grew strange. He used to be good. The best. He was a coleopterologist; still is, I suppose. He sailed through his studies. His PhD was approved, he wrote his doctoral thesis, the whole shebang in record time. He was the youngest staff member in a tiny department whose elderly professor was about to retire, leaving the Chair vacant for Asger. The future looked bright. And do you know what happened then? The Faculty Council closed the department. They claimed they had sent Asger a letter, but it somehow had gotten lost. We were still friends then. When he came back after the summer break, ready to start a new term, to teach and research, the department was no longer there. The end. Terribly sorry, et cetera . . .”

“How did you find out Asger was Helland’s son?”

Dr. Tybjerg looked torn, then he sighed and continued.

“Asger’s mother is a professor here, but she works in a different department. One day I saw her with Helland. They were having an argument, which was clearly personal. It happened in a corner right by the entrance, and I watched them from the stairs, unnoticed. It sounded like Asger’s mother was threatening Helland—she was very angry. At the time, I had just finished my PhD and my dream was to research, but I wasn’t entirely sure how to go about it. I don’t know what prompted me, but shortly afterward I dropped a hint to Helland. We were working together—over there, as it happens—by those long desks, and it was a chance shot. Turned out to be a bull’s eye. I could see it in his face. He went pale, and his reaction told me I had stumbled onto something much bigger than I had initially suspected. I brought up the subject every time we met, until he asked me outright to keep quiet. I agreed, of course. Shortly afterward I was given an office in the basement. Helland arranged it. Remember, I wasn’t demanding astronomical sums of cash and all sorts of perks. However, I could see how government cuts were affecting us, we were all hanging on by the skin of our teeth and I feared redundancy. I have devoted my life to reaching this level of expertise, and there’s no way I’m joining a retraining program for the unemployed.” He sounded outraged now. “So I suppose you could say I twisted Helland’s arm a little. But like I said, we struck a deal. I did him a favor by keeping quiet, and he did me a favor by sending work my way. I got a small office, one that no one else wanted, and an invitation to join in his research. That’s why we did so many things together, papers, posters, and research proposals. But it wasn’t the only reason. It was killing two birds with one stone, see? We worked within the same field, and together we made a strong team. One of the strongest in the world. Over time, my arm twisting faded into the background.”

“Why didn’t Helland want it known that Asger was his son?”

“Well, why do you think? Number one, he would have been fired on the spot, and number two, his wife would have been less than thrilled.”

“Who is Asger’s mother? Do I know her?”

“Possibly. Her name is Hanne Moritzen; she’s a parasitologist. She has an office on the ground floor.”

You could have knocked Anna down with a feather.

“She’s his mother?”

“Yes,” Tybjerg said. “Asger’s mother is Professor Moritzen.”

“Why do you think that?” she said in disbelief.

“You don’t think Asger would know his own mother?”

“But I know her,” Anna said, vehemently. “She doesn’t have children. She always said she never had children!”

“Then she was lying,” Dr. Tybjerg declared.

Anna was at a total loss. Hanne had a son with Professor Helland. Anna was only distracted for a second, but Tybjerg managed to retreat so far into the darkness that he vanished. Anna heard the sound of his shoes, heard him mutter something, and then the rattling of a cupboard door. She stared into space, stunned.

“I have to go,” she muttered to herself.

Anna left the Vertebrate Collection and let herself into the museum. Her heart was pounding and she was starting to have second thoughts. Should she have told Søren what she had discovered? Was her plan too dangerous, after all?

Then she spotted Troels. He was waiting for her in the doorway to the Mammoth Room. He touched the artificial glacier with trepidation and withdrew his hand in wonder. He wasn’t wearing a jacket and had stuffed his wool hat into his back pocket. His auburn hair fell in skillfully cut locks across his forehead.

Anna’s breathing quickened as she watched him, her weapon safe in her pocket. When she had managed to calm down, she approached him and gently put her hand on his back. He turned around.

“Hello again, Anna,” he said. His eyes were flickering.

“Come on, let’s go,” she said, softly.

Slowly, without speaking, they drifted through the exhibition. They even stopped in front of some exhibits before ending up in the Sperm Whale Room, where they found a bench. A group of noisy kids shuffled their feet, waiting impatiently for headsets to be passed around. Anna and Troels sat close together.

Anna said, “What have you done?” and turned to him.

“I didn’t mean to.”

Anna gasped.

“What happened?” she whispered.

“I fell in love with him,” he confessed.

“With Johannes?” Anna raised her eyebrows and, for a moment, her horror gave way to confusion. “But Johannes wasn’t gay . . . he . . .”

“I know,” Troels replied, quietly. “But I was still in love with him.”

“So what happened?” Anna probed.

“We met at the Red Mask. I went there with a couple of guys I don’t actually know very well. I had never been there before, but I liked the place. I noticed Johannes almost immediately. He was standing at the bar, looking amazing. He wasn’t actually very handsome, was he? But he outshone everyone and made us all laugh. He was surrounded by people. I moved closer and we started talking. I drank some more beer—I had already had too many. We talked for a long time, and I struggled to keep up.” Troels looked embarrassed. “He spoke about complex subjects, gestured with his hands, touched my shoulder, stabbed his finger into my chest, ruffled my hair. For a new acquaintance he was very physical, and I lapped it up. I’ve been on the gay scene for years,” he smiled, “where, usually, quick physical contact equals sex, and I thought . . . he wore a leather skirt, fishnet tights, and army boots. Johannes, however, spoke about everything but sex that night. He talked endlessly about the theory of science, which didn’t really interest me. But
he
mesmerized me. He seemed completely indifferent to how other people perceived him, waved his arms around whenever he felt like it. Take me or leave me. That was why he was a magnet, of course. I’ve always admired people like that.