Vestergaard. ‘And perhaps you should update Herr van Heiden on what this is all about.’
Once they were seated, Fabel outlined Vestergaard’s theory about the Hamburg-based contract killer and Jespersen’s death not being natural. Vestergaard sat silently throughout Fabel’s commentary in German, her expression as impossible to read as it had been the day before.
‘How sure are we that this so-called Valkyrie is based in Hamburg?’ asked Steinbach when Fabel was finished.
‘With the greatest respect to Frau Vestergaard and her deceased colleague, there is absolutely no proof that the Valkyrie even exists.’ Fabel looked again at the Danish policewoman. There was no sign that she understood what he was saying in German. But there again, he thought, she wouldn’t show it even if she did. ‘To be frank, Herr President, I feel that our foreign colleague here is not being as communicative as she might be.’
‘You think there’s more to this?’ asked Steinbach.
‘I don’t know. In fact, there may be less to her story than meets the eye. And I have to be honest, with this supposed resurrection of the Angel of St Pauli, I can well do without some wild-goose chase. But we’ll get the autopsy report on Jespersen this afternoon.’
‘I see,’ said Steinbach. ‘What do you think, Horst?’
‘I think we can’t afford to ignore the possibility. There are those in the international security community who feel we dropped the ball in not nailing the so-called “Hamburg Cell” before they launched the attack on the World Trade Center. It could be embarrassing if we were seen to have had advance warning of this assassin operating from Hamburg and then for something to happen. A political assassination abroad, for example.’ Van Heiden turned to Fabel. ‘Sorry, Jan… I understand you’re under pressure with this Angel case, but we have to treat this seriously.’
‘I agree. Especially if the autopsy throws up something.’
Vestergaard cleared her throat.
‘I’m sorry…’ Fabel said in English. Then, to the others: ‘Maybe we should all speak in English from now on, for Frau Vestergaard’s sake.’
‘Natural,’ said van Heiden in heavily accented English. ‘We will, of course, you bet.’
The look Vestergaard fired at Fabel eloquently communicated an ‘I-told-you-so’ reminder of their conversation about the difference between how Danes and Germans spoke English.
‘I think Frau Vestergaard has something you should hear,’ said Police President Steinbach. ‘Please, Frau Vestergaard.’
‘My office in Copenhagen has been in touch with me,’ she said. ‘They in turn were notified by the Norwegian National Criminal Investigation Department of an incident in Drobak, near Oslo. This incident, which involved the murder of two men, took place yesterday evening.’
Vestergaard paused while she took her notebook from her bag.
‘Jorgen Halvorsen is — was — a leading investigative journalist for newspapers and magazines throughout Scandinavia,’ she said, referring to the notebook. ‘He was a Norwegian by birth but worked in Copenhagen for a great many years. He moved back to Norway about five years ago. For the sake of his health, you could say. He made some heavyweight enemies in Denmark and Sweden. You see, Halvorsen had two specific areas of interest, areas that were not always mutually exclusive: the extreme right in Europe, and corporate and political corruption. He was assassinated yesterday evening in his home in Drobak. His family were away overnight, so the timing suggests surveillance of the house. Also, Halvorsen was planning a trip abroad. The Far East. Where exactly in the Far East and for what reason we don’t know. But it suggests the killer knew Halvorsen’s schedule and everything points to a timed, planned killing — except that Halvorsen’s gardener obviously happened along at the wrong moment. He was the other victim. Single knife wound to the heart.’
‘And you think this is the work of the alleged Hamburg Valkyrie?’ asked Fabel.
‘It could be…’ Vestergaard shrugged. ‘It was a highly professional job. The other thing is that the Norwegian police had been keeping an on-off eye on Halvorsen’s house.’
‘Why?’ asked Fabel.
‘About two weeks ago someone broke in and stole Halvorsen’s laptop and selective files, including back-ups of his computer data. And this is where it gets creepy… Halvorsen, being a security-minded man, also backed up to an online source. Someone used his access code and passwords to wipe that too. Again, the work of real professionals.’
‘What was it that he was working on?’ asked van Heiden.
‘We don’t have details yet. You see, the Norwegian National Police isn’t the only agency with an interest in Halvorsen: PST, the Norwegian security agency, and Okokrim, the economic and environmental crime bureau, were very much interested in what Halvorsen was into. They had both been cooperating with Halvorsen — basically because they knew he would turn over what he found to them.’
‘Your Norwegian colleagues seem to have been very open with you,’ said van Heiden.
‘That’s the way it is in Scandinavia…’ Vestergaard shrugged. ‘The Nordic Police Agreement has been in force since nineteen sixty-six and was expanded in two thousand and one. We enjoy much more freedom to cooperate without formality across our borders. Anyway, organised crime, right-wing extremism, that kind of thing — it all tends to spread wider than one constituent country.’
‘So do we know what Halvorsen was working on?’ asked Fabel.
‘Without his files or back-ups, no. Over the years Halvorsen has exposed quite a few major figures. Powerful figures. He had learned to play his cards very close to his chest. But we do have a few theories. One is that it may have had something to do with the trafficking of women. Norway, as you probably know, is currently the chair of Interpol’s Working Party against Trafficking in Women, and it’s possible that Halvorsen was tying a story in to coincide. A couple of my colleagues believe that he might have been about to expose a major environmental crime by some corporation or other, or maybe by a government. We’re compiling a list of the information he asked for from Okokrim. One thing we are pretty certain about is that whatever it was he was investigating, it involves Denmark. He made several trips to Copenhagen. He seems to have had a particular interest in the Oresund Region: we do know he did research at Copenhagen University on the region as a politico-economic identity.’
‘I’m sorry,’ interrupted Steinbach, with a frown. ‘Maybe my English…’
‘The Oresund Region is partly in Denmark, partly in Sweden,’ explained Vestergaard, speaking more slowly. ‘It’s where the new bridge between Denmark and Sweden is. Historically, that part of Sweden was Danish. Same way we used to own Schleswig-Holstein.’
‘Why was Halvorsen interested in this region particularly?’ asked van Heiden.
‘No idea. It’s maybe not significant in itself. Halvorsen was known to have an interest in Euroregions. You know, groupings within the new EU that tend not to conform to national boundaries. The part of Sweden that is included in the Oresund Region is open to a lot of social and linguistic debate: the majority of linguists say the Scanians speak in an East Danish dialect, while others maintain it is a South Swedish dialect. The point is, there is a sense of Europe dividing into self-identified units rather than traditional national units. You could argue, for example, that Hamburg has more in common with Denmark in terms of identity and culture than it does with Bavaria.’
‘I don’t see a big story for Halvorsen in whether a bunch of Swedes speak with a Danish or a Swedish accent,’ said Fabel.
‘Nor do I,’ said Vestergaard dismissively. ‘And his visits to Copenhagen and visits to the region may have nothing to do with his death. But remember Halvorsen’s special interest was neo-fascism. Scanian identity isn’t just about being Danish or Swedish. There are several extreme-right groups who want autonomy for the region and to expel all Muslims to “Sweden”.’
Vestergaard was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Steinbach answered it.
‘It’s for you,’ he said to Fabel, holding out the receiver.
‘Fabel, Moller here. I’m about to send the autopsy results on Jespersen to your office, but I thought you’d want the main points.’
‘I appreciate that, Herr Doctor. I take it our suspicions were justified?’
‘Just like your less than charming Danish colleague suggested… By the way, do you know she got in touch with me directly and started to harangue me, telling me what I should be looking for?’
‘No, I didn’t,’ said Fabel, firing a look across the conference table at Vestergaard. ‘My apologies.’
‘Well, anyway,’ continued Moller. ‘Turns out she was right. I found a hypodermic puncture wound. What looks
