She gave Carl a slightly indignant look. “Not quite thirty-five,” she replied, looking down at the floor.
“What kind of car was he driving?”
“He didn’t come by car, as far as I could tell. At least there wasn’t any car parked outside.”
“You don’t think he walked the whole way out here, do you?”
“No, probably not.”
“But you didn’t watch him leave?”
“No. I needed to give Uffe something to eat. He always had lunch while I listened to the news program on the radio.”
They talked about the letter as they drove. Assad didn’t know anything more about it. The police investigation had come to a dead end as far as it was concerned.
“But why the hell was it so important to deliver such an unimportant message? What did it really mean? I could understand it if the message were from a woman friend and the letter was perfumed and came in a little envelope with flowers on it. But not in such an anonymous envelope and with no signature.”
“I think that Helle, she does not know very much,” Assad replied as they turned on to Bjælkerupvej, which was where Social Services for Stevns municipality was located.
Carl looked over at the buildings. It would have been nice to have a court order in his back pocket before going inside.
“Stay here,” he said to Assad, whose face virtually glowed with satisfaction.
Carl located the director’s office after making a few inquiries.
“Yes, that’s right. Uffe Lynggaard received care from the Home Nursing Group,” she said as Carl put his police badge back in his pocket. “But we’re a bit disorganized at the moment when it comes to archiving former cases. Municipal reforms, you know.”
So the woman seated opposite him knew nothing about the case. He’d have to talk to somebody else. Surely someone in the place had to remember Uffe Lynggaard and his sister. Just a tiny scrap of information could turn out to be valuable. Maybe someone had been to their house numerous times and had noticed something that might give him a lead.
“Could I speak to the person who was responsible for his care back then?”
“I’m afraid she’s retired now.”
“Could you give me her name?”
“No, I’m sorry. Only those of us who work here at City Hall can discuss former cases.”
“But none of the employees know anything about Uffe Lynggaard, is that correct?”
“Oh, I’m sure someone does. But, like I said, we’re not at liberty to discuss the case.”
“I realize that it’s a matter of confidentiality, and I know that Uffe Lynggaard is not under state guardianship. But I didn’t drive all the way out here to go back home empty-handed. Could you let me see his case file?”
“You know very well that I can’t let you do that. If you’d like to speak with our attorney, you’re welcome to do so. The files aren’t accessible right now, anyway. And Uffe Lynggaard no longer lives in this district.”
“So the documents have been transferred to Frederikssund?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
What a patronizing bitch.
Carl left her office and paused outside in the hallway for a moment, looking around. “Excuse me,” he said to a woman who came walking toward him, seemingly too tired to put up much of a fight. He pulled out his police badge and introduced himself. “Could you possibly help me find out the name of the person who handled cases in Magleby ten years ago?”
“Ask in there,” said the woman, pointing to the office he had just exited.
So it was going to take a court order, paperwork, phone calls, waiting time, and more phone calls. He just didn’t have the energy for all that.
“I’ll remember this the next time you need my help,” he said to the woman, giving her a slight bow.
The last stop on their expedition was the Clinic for Spinal Cord Injuries in Hornbæk. “I’ll drive myself up there, Assad. Can you take the train home? I’ll drop you off in Køge. There’s an express train to the Central Station.” Assad nodded, not looking terribly enthusiastic. Carl had no idea where the man lived. He’d have to ask him sometime.
He glanced at his odd companion. “We’ll start working on a different case tomorrow, Assad. This one is going nowhere.” Not even that promise set off any fireworks in Assad’s face.
At the clinic Hardy had been moved to another ward, and he wasn’t looking good. His skin was OK, but darkness lurked in his blue eyes.
Carl put his hand on Hardy’s shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last time, Hardy. But it’s not going to work. I’m really sorry. I just can’t do it. Do you understand?”
Hardy didn’t say a word. Of course he understood; at the same time, of course, he didn’t.
“How about if you help me out instead, Hardy? I’ll give you all the facts, and you can take your time thinking them over. I could use some extra input, you know? I don’t give a flying fuck about any of it, but if you help me out, then at least we’ll have something to laugh about together.”
“You want me to laugh, Carl?” said Hardy, turning his head away.
All in all, it had been a really shitty day.
All sense of time vanished in the darkness, and with it the rhythms of her body. Day and night merged like Siamese twins. There was only one fixed point in the day for Merete, and that was the click from the retractable hatch in the arched door.
The first time she heard the distorted voice on the loudspeaker, the shock was so explosive that she was still trembling when she lay down to sleep.
But if she hadn’t heard the voice, she would have been dead of thirst and hunger; she knew that. The question was whether that might have been a better alternative.
She had noticed the thirst and dryness in her mouth disappearing. She’d noticed the fatigue dulling her hunger, the fear being replaced by sorrow, and the sorrow by an almost comforting acknowledgment that death was approaching. And that was why she lay there calmly, waiting for her body to give up, when a grating voice revealed that she was not alone and that she ultimately was going to have to surrender to someone else’s will.
“Merete,” said the woman’s voice without warning. “We’re sending in a plastic container. In a moment you’ll hear a clicking sound and a hatch will open over in the corner. We’ve seen that you’ve already found it.”
Maybe she’d imagined that a light was turned on, because she pressed her eyes closed and tried to gain control over the shock waves that were flashing along her nerve endings. But there was no light in the room.
“Can you hear me?” shouted the voice.
She nodded, breathing hard. Now Merete noticed how cold she was. How the lack of sustenance had sucked all the fat out of her body. How vulnerable she was.
“Answer me!”
“Yes. Yes, I hear you. Who are you?” She stared into the darkness.
“When you hear the click, go over to the hatch at once. Don’t try to crawl inside. You won’t be able to do it. After you take out the first container, there will be another. One of them is a bucket that you can use as a toilet to relieve yourself. The other bucket holds water and food. Each day we’ll open the hatch, and then we’ll exchange the old containers with new ones. Do you understand?”