“Get lost,” mouthed the driver. “Catch the next one.”
Søren fumbled for his badge, but the traffic eased and the bus accelerated, leaving Søren behind, cold and troubled.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Henrik shouted, when Søren returned to Kongshøjgade. He sent Søren a furious look.
“I thought I saw someone,” Søren said, avoiding Henrik’s eyes.
“Who?”
“Doesn’t matter. It wasn’t . . . him.”
Henrik narrowed his eyes. “Since when do you chase suspects on your own?”
“Since today,” Søren said, wearily. “I’m sorry. I can’t make head nor tail of this case.”
Henrik was visibly annoyed.
“Søren,” he said. “Every police officer has to accept that not every case will be closed. So far, you have solved every case you’ve ever been given. You may have to accept this could be your first unsolved case. It won’t kill you, nor will you be demoted to pounding the pavement, will you? Besides, it’s not over yet. We’ve only just started! You and I will wait like good little boys for Bøje’s report and then we’ll come up with a battle plan, okay? Let’s call it a day. I’ll wrap things up here and catch a ride back with Mads. You go home. I’ll write the preliminary report.”
Søren nodded and got into his car. He sat there for a while, trying to calm down.
Søren drove down Falkoner Allé toward Nørrebro with a renewed sense of purpose. After crossing Ågade, he turned right and parked behind Anna’s block. He walked around to the front door and rang the bell. For a long time. No reply. He rang the next-door neighbor. Time passed, then he heard an elderly voice.
“Yes?”
“Mrs. Snedker?” Søren said, reading the name next to the bell. “I’m a police officer. Please will you let me in?”
He heard a noise and thought she was opening the door, but she appeared to have had second thoughts because she replied: “And why would I believe you?”
Søren was taken aback. “Er, no why would you?” he said. Now what? The intercom hissed again.
“If you’re the chap who has been waiting for Anna,” the old voice snapped, “then I suggest you run back home to your mommy. We’re not interested in whatever garbage you’re peddling, or whatever it is you want. Be off with you.” She hung up and Søren was left standing there. He took a few steps back and looked up at the building. On the fourth floor, opposite where Anna’s apartment had to be located, he saw an old lady in the window. She was watching him and when he looked back at her, she waved. He pressed the bell again.
“I’ve never seen you before,” the old lady said when she answered. “And don’t think I’m stupid enough to let in a stranger just because he claims to be a police officer.”
“Mrs. Snedker,” Søren said with all the authority he could muster, “I’m going to give you a telephone number and you’ll call directory enquiries and find out whose it is. You’ll be told that it’s the duty officer at Bellahøj police station. Then you wait two minutes before you call the duty officer and ask him if he thinks it’s a good idea to let in a man who calls himself Søren Marhauge who claims to be a policeman, and if he says yes, you let me in, all right? I’ll call them right now and give them my location. Do you follow?”
“Do you think I was born yesterday?” she said cheekily. “I promise you, sir, that I wasn’t. I was born long before you were even a twinkle in your mother’s eye.”
Søren smiled. “Right, we have a deal, then.”
She hung up. Søren called the duty officer and four minutes later, he had a call back to say his identity had been confirmed. A Maggie Snedker, born February 26, 1919, had just called. She had been highly suspicious, but they had reached an agreement in the end. The duty officer sounded amused. The intercom crackled and Søren was buzzed into the stairwell.
Mrs. Snedker was waiting on the landing. Her arms were folded across her chest and she looked fierce, but Søren detected an element of teasing in the corner of her eyes.
“You’re a long way up, Mrs. Snedker,” he panted, holding out his badge.
“You’re right. The air up here is too thin for weaklings like you.” She scrutinized his badge. “What do you want?”
“I urgently need to get ahold of your neighbor, Anna Bella Nor, and she won’t open her door or answer her telephone.”