“I wonder what they’d have done with their hostages?” It seemed to me that Cory Phelps, at least, would have stopped at nothing to ensure he never saw the inside of a prison again.
“I guess we’ll never know. Maybe Jordan would have had the sense to make sure nobody else got killed. Herre Lars Nielsen isn’t the kind of man who’d let something like the murder of one of his kids go unanswered, and he has almost unlimited financial resources at his disposal.”
He sounded pretty convinced of it. Shay had probably done quite a bit of digging into the Nielsen family, so he’d have more of an idea about that than I did. From the way he’d said it, I got the impression that Shay didn’t know himself whether he’d have chosen to intervene or not. He had some rather antiquated notions about blood debts.
Lars Nielsen had booked a private dining room at the Kingsmills hotel to host our lunch engagement on Sunday. A linen-draped table, set for five, had been set up in the centre of the elegant room and Shay and I found the Nielsens already waiting for us when we were shown in. Three pairs of equally vivid blue eyes inspected us in very different ways as their conversation was abruptly cut off by our entrance. Mads, at least, seemed genuinely delighted to see us.
“Ah, Inspector Keane, Mr Keane, welcome!” Nielsen senior was quick to come and shake our hands, “I am very pleased that you could join us.” The Nielsens’ idea of smart casual was a little more elevated than mine, and I was glad that Shay had talked me into wearing my best day suit, and without a tie. Neither of the Nielsen men was wearing them.
The sister was introduced to us as Elise. She was a couple of years older than Mads but wore her age just as well, a golden-haired, quite lovely feminine counterpart to her brother’s male personification of the Nordic ideal. The hostile yet covetous way she was examining my cousin made me dislike her on sight. There was something unsettlingly sharp and brittle about her, too. I found myself wondering what sort of medication she might be on.
“I must thank you both for delivering my brother back to us safe and sound,” she said as we all seated ourselves, “I had no idea the British security forces were so accommodating, or so skilful.” Her emphasis and tone on those last two adjectives were both directed snidely at my cousin. Mads scowled at her.
“Don’t be snippy, Elise. It doesn’t suit you, and nor does the colour green.” Lars shot them both a displeased frown before turning to me.
“I’m afraid my daughter is a little upset, Inspector. She has some notion in her head that your cousin was poking around in her supposedly secure systems yesterday, although she doesn’t seem to produce a scrap of evidence to substantiate her suspicions.”
Shay was busily admiring the eighteenth century stuccoed ceiling and just ignored the comment as unworthy of a reply. I decided to do the same.
“How are our four patients doing, Mads?” my cousin asked when he’d finished appraising the room.
“They’re all absolutely fine,” Mads assured him, grateful to be offered a perfectly acceptable subject of polite conversation. “They were discharged late yesterday evening and flew over with us earlier today. I thought it best to send them on home a few days early after their unpleasant little experience.”
“Well, that was probably best.” Shay smiled back at him approvingly. “I’m sure they were all appropriately disappointed to be deprived of your delightful company, though. Whatever will you do with yourself now?”
The look on Mads’ face, for a second there, left no doubt as to what his first choice would be, and Shay, looking awfully pleased with himself, glanced away again as the double doors opened and our servers made their first entrance, bringing in our starters. That hadn’t been an act, had it?
Dishes delivered and glasses filled, they quietly made their exit again. Lars looked inquiringly at my cousin.
“My son warned me that you were a vegetarian, Mr Keane. I do hope the selections I made for you are acceptable.”
Shay stirred his pea soup experimentally, and a few tiny pieces of chopped ham bobbed up to the surface. He put his spoon down again with a sigh.
“I’m afraid the kitchen staff seem to have made a mistake. Never mind, I find that I’ve lost my appetite, anyway. You have an interesting family, Mads, although I’m not sure I appreciate their sense of humour.”
Elise just laughed lightly. “Oh come now, Mr Keane, I’m sure you occasionally make yourself taste a little meat, however unpalatable you may find it. Especially if doing so allows you to obtain something you want, like a password, for example? Isn’t that the sort of thing you people are trained to do?”
There was a stunned, shocked silence before Mads hurled himself to his feet, knocking his chair back.
“You loathsome little viper! How dare you insult our guest like that!”
“Oh, do calm down, Mads,” his father said impatiently, “Her accusation may have been a little indelicately phrased, but if Elise swears that she noticed you log in briefly at a time we now know you were being held at gunpoint elsewhere, then I’m inclined to hear her out. Don’t be so naïve. The man’s obviously somebody’s agent. Who knows what information he may have stolen?”
I’d frozen in my seat, staring at father and daughter in speechless fury. I knew that my entire face and neck had flushed crimson. Shay, on the other hand, just rose smoothly to his feet and dropped his redundant serviette on the table.
“Naive? Actually, Mads happens to be a far better judge of character than either of you appear to be. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves
