efforts are currently concentrated on trying to discover the precise significance of this link, and of course also providing the best possible level of protection for the remainder of that group.”
“Have you any clues?” interrupted a young woman from the local radio station.
“All questions will be answered shortly by Chief Inspector Van Veeteren, who is sitting here beside me,” Hiller explained with a smile. “But before I throw the meeting open to the floor, just let me point out that you will be given access to all the information we possess at present, and I sincerely hope that we are all on the same side in the hunt for the ruthless murderer we are evidently up against. Thank you.”
The chief of police had said his piece. Van Veeteren leaned forward over the table and glared at the audience.
“Fire away,” he said.
“Was it the same method in this case as well?” said somebody.
“How come the police didn't provide some kind of protection, if it was known that the victim would be one of that group?” wondered somebody else.
“With regard to the method…,” Van Veeteren began.
“Has the level of protection been increased?” interrupted a third.
“With regard to the method,” Van Veeteren repeated, unperturbed, “it was a little different this time. The victim, Innings, that is, evidently invited the perpetrator into his house and offered him tea… Or her. This naturally suggests…”
“What does that suggest?” yelled a red-haired reporter in the third row.
“It can suggest that he was acquainted with the murderer. At any rate, it seemed that he was expecting him to call.”
“Is it one of the others in the group?” asked somebody from the
“We don't know,” said Van Veeteren.
“But you have interrogated the whole group?”
“Of course.”
“And will do so again?”
“Naturally.”
“Protection?” somebody repeated.
“We don't have unlimited resources,” explained Van Veeteren. “It obviously requires vast manpower to keep thirty people under observation all around the clock.”
“Is it a madman?”
“A person is presumably not totally sane if he goes out and kills three people.”
“Was there any sign of a struggle at Innings's place? Had he tried to defend himself or anything like that?”
“No.”
“What theories do you have? Surely you have more than just this to go on?”
“Do you have a suspect?” the redhead managed to interject.
Van Veeteren shook his head.
“At this stage we don't have a suspect.”
“Is it a man or a woman?”
“Could be either.”
“What's all this about music being played over the telephone?”
“There are indications that suggest the murderer keeps calling his victims for some time before shooting them. He calls them and plays a particular tune over the phone to them.”
“What tune?”
“We don't know.”
“Why? Why does he ring?”
“We don't know.”
“What do you think?”
“We're working on various different possibilities.”
“Had Innings received one of these phone calls?”
“We haven't clarified that as yet.”
“If he had, surely he'd have contacted the police?”
“You would think so.”
“But he hadn't?”
“No.”
There was a pause. Van Veeteren took a sip of soda water.
“How many police officers are working on this case at the moment?” asked Wurgner from
“All available officers.”
“How many is that?”
Van Veeteren did the calculation.
“About thirty Of various ranks.”
“When do you think you'll be able to close the case?”
Van Veeteren shrugged.
“It's not possible to say.”
“Has it got something to do with the armed forces? The link seems to suggest that.”
“No, I would hardly think so,” said Van Veeteren after a moment's thought.
An elderly and unusually patient editor of a crime-magazine program on one of the television channels had been waving his pen for a while, and now managed to get his oar in.
“What exactly do you want help with? Pictures and stuff?”
Van Veeteren nodded.
“Yes,” he said. “We'd like you to publish photographs and names of all the men in the group, and to write about the telephone calls. Ask the general public to pass on to us any possible tips they may have.”
“Why didn't you release the pictures and so on earlier? You must have known about it after the second murder, surely?”
“It wasn't definite,” said Van Veeteren with a sigh. “It was only an indication.”
“But now it's definite?”
“Yes.”
A gigantic man with a long, gray beard-Van Veeteren knew him to be Vejmanen on the
“We are still conducting them,” said Van Veeteren. “You'll get the details tomorrow.”
“How kind of you,” thundered Vejmanen. “And when do you think we'll have the next victim?”
Van Veeteren blew his nose.
“Our intention is to pick up the killer before he strikes again,” he explained.
“Excellent,” said Vejmanen. “So shall we say that you are in no particular hurry? This business is going to be newsworthy for four or five days at least… Possibly a whole week.”
He sat down, and appreciative laughter could be heard here and there in the audience.
“If I understand it rightly,” said a woman whose clothes and makeup suggested that she was attached to some television program, “you will be providing some kind of protection to all the remaining members of this group. But at the same time, one of them might be the murderer. Won't that be a pretty intricate task?”
“Not really,” said Van Veeteren. “I can promise you that we shall cease to protect the murderer from himself the moment we know who he is.”
“Have you made a profile of the killer?” shouted somebody from the back.
“I can't say we have.”
“Will you be making one?”
“I always make a profile of the perpetrator,” said Van Veeteren, “but I don't normally send it out into the ether.”
