Beate stopped in order to take a drink of water.
“There was a twenty-one-year age difference between Simon and me. I was twenty when our relationship started and twenty-two when Emil was born. I knew then that Simon would never leave Susanne. The poor thing was paralyzed and wheelchair bound-”
She stopped abruptly. Maybe she could hear the bitterness in her voice as she uttered the last sentence. In a more controlled tone, she continued, “He took good care of me and Emil. He was the one who bought me the apartment where I still live. It’s worth a great deal today. He paid child support the whole time up until his death.”
“How could he be ordered to pay child support if he never admitted to being the father?” Irene asked.
“He wasn’t ordered to pay. It was done in a voluntary and generous spirit. But I wish he hadn’t left his apartment and money to Emil.”
“Did you know about it in advance?”
“No.”
“His wife didn’t inherit?”
“Susanne died three years before he did. She was tougher than anyone could have predicted.”
“But you wish that Emil hadn’t inherited?”
“Because that’s when he found out who his father was. He was furious. He thought that I had deprived him of contact with his father. Using the argument that his father had never attempted to reveal his paternity even though they saw each other several times a year didn’t affect Emil’s opinion one bit. He believed that I was the one who had stood in the way. I couldn’t keep him from moving into his own apartment. He was eighteen years old.”
“So the relationship between the two of you wasn’t the best?”
“No. Not for the first two years after his move. But recently we started spending more time together, even though he only let me into the apartment once. I didn’t say anything but he knew what I thought. . we mostly met at my place or in a pub. We were getting along better and better. I’m very grateful for that now. . that it’s over.”
Beate’s voice broke, and heavy tears rolled down her cheeks.
Would she have the strength to answer the questions that had to be asked? To Irene’s relief, it was Peter who paved the way. “Were you aware of Emil’s odd taste in music?”
Beate reached for a package of Kleenex. She fished one out and dried her eyes. “Of course I saw his so-called music room. . It was horrible. But we never discussed it. He would only have become angry.”
“We found two police uniforms in his closet. Did you know about them?”
Now Beate hesitated. When she started speaking, her voice sounded very tired. “I didn’t know that he had two. One is my old uniform. He asked to borrow it for a masquerade ball and I never got it back.”
“How long ago was that?”
“About two years ago when he got in touch with me again after the move. That’s probably why I never asked for it back. I didn’t want to anger him and have him cut off contact again.”
Irene decided to take the risk and ask the question burning inside her. “I got the impression that you and Bill Faraday know each other well. He came right away, on short notice. . ”
“He’s my lover.”
The answer came so quickly that neither Irene nor Peter was ready with a follow-up question. To Irene’s relief, Beate smiled faintly at them.
“You should see the looks on your faces. Mouths gaping open! I met Bill when Emil inherited the apartment. I was required to get in touch with him because he owns the building. Emil was so young when he moved in but there weren’t any big problems. The building is a very old cooperative with old-fashioned and complicated rules. Bill owns and manages the property, but the tenants own their apartments. The tenants pay a management fee. It’s that, plus the rent, that provides an income for Bill.”
“Like a private tenant-owner’s company,” Irene said.
“Yes. Bill manages several properties.”
Peter cleared his throat and announced that he wanted to ask a new question.
“You knew that Emil was. . gay. Do you know any of his partners? Has he had a steady boyfriend recently?”
Beate shook her head. “No. He never confided in me. I’ve had the feeling that he has been very lonely. That’s what the parent of a homosexual child is most afraid of, that they will be alone. If he had had a steady …friend and a secure relationship, he probably wouldn’t have been so restless.”
Maybe his preferences had been so particular that it hadn’t been easy to find a like-minded individual.
“Did you know the people Emil rented rooms to?” Peter asked.
“No. He handled that himself. I have the feeling that he only rented the rooms out now and then. Of course it provided some extra income but he had the income from Simon’s assets to live on. Thank God they are placed so that he can’t. . couldn’t spend the money. The income was paid to him each month.”
“I’ve heard that he was studying law,” said Irene.
“It didn’t go very well,” Beate said shortly.
“Did you know that Emil often hung out in a gay sex shop in Vesterbro that is owned by one Tom Tanaka?” Irene continued.
Beate looked incredibly tired. She tried in vain to wet her lips.
“I know that he was often seen at different gay hangouts. But I don’t know if he spent a lot of time in Tanaka’s store.”
It was clear that Beate didn’t have the energy to talk anymore. Peter could see it as well.
“Take care of yourself, Chief. We can talk again when you are feeling a bit stronger.”
“Thanks. I’ll call if I come up with anything. My brain almost feels paralyzed right now,” she whispered.
Irene felt deep sympathy for Beate. The image of Isabell’s dead face floated past for one second. A strong pang of guilt hit her. In a sense, she was an accessory. The murderer was working close to her; involving her was his intention. Catching the murderer was something she owed his violated victims. Now it had become personal.
“SHE DIDN’T seem to know anything about his sex life,” said Irene.
“Maybe it’s just as well,” said Peter.
They sat in the comfortable BMW and zoomed at an even speed toward downtown Copenhagen. Peter skillfully maneuvered the car into the parking spot in front of the Hotel Alex.
“Are you going to eat now?” he asked.
Irene saw that it was only five thirty. “In an hour. Then I’ll go across the street; the food is good there,” she said.
“I’ll pick you up here.”
“You shouldn’t feel like you need to. . ”
“I don’t feel like fixing dinner tonight. I had already planned on going out to eat.”
He stepped out of the car and quickly went around and opened the passenger-side door for her. Irene thought it was a bit embarrassing. She decided that it must be because she wasn’t used to it.
ALONG hot shower followed by a short cold one raised her spirits. She relaxed, wrapped in a clean bath towel, a smaller towel wound around her wet hair. For a while she sat in the only recliner in the room with her fingers clasping the bottle she had just taken from the minibar. She slowly drank the cold Hof.
Her brain felt sluggish and overwhelmed by the events of the past few days. The murderer must have shown up at some point. Where? When? She couldn’t locate him among all of her unsorted impressions. But she knew that he had been close by. He had been in Copenhagen a week ago, on her previous visit. Was he still here? Irene felt convinced that he wasn’t. It was high time for her to return to Goteborg.
She longed intensely for Krister and the girls. She went to get her cell phone and called home.
Just before six thirty, Irene went downstairs to the lobby. They had put up the “Jell-O shot evening” sign in the bar again. She saw Jonny at a table in the bar together with two men and a woman. He lifted a small glass filled with pink Jell-O.
She didn’t bother going into the bar. She was content. There would be no discussion about who was going to drive tomorrow. She exited through the revolving door and waved at Peter, who was walking toward her.
