her consciousness.
23
Carl had made appointments for two meetings at Christiansborg. He was received by a lanky woman who seemed to have frequented the place since childhood. She was able to lead him through the labyrinthine halls and up to the office belonging to the vice-chair of the Democrats with such familiarity that a snail in its shell would have envied her.
Birger Larsen was an experienced politician who had succeeded Merete Lynggaard as vice-chair of the party three days after she disappeared. Since then he’d distinguished himself by acting as the glue that was needed to hold the two vying wings of the party in reasonably close contact. Merete’s disappearance had left a gaping void. The veteran leader had almost blindly selected his new heir, a female airhead with a big smile, who initially became the political spokesperson. No one, except the designated successor, was happy with his choice. It didn’t take two seconds for Carl to sense that Birger Larsen would have preferred making a career for himself in some tiny business out in the sticks to working at some point under this self-satisfied potential prime minister.
The time would no doubt arrive when he wouldn’t be allowed to make that decision on his own.
“Even today I still can’t make any sense of the idea that Merete supposedly committed suicide,” he said, pouring Carl a cup of lukewarm coffee. It was so tepid that he could have stuck his thumb in it with no ill effects.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone here who seemed more vital and glad to be alive.” He shrugged. “But when it comes right down to it, what do we really know about our fellow human beings? Haven’t we all had some sort of tragedy happen in our lives that we couldn’t foresee?”
Carl nodded. “Did she have any enemies here at Christiansborg?”
Larsen displayed a row of exceedingly crooked teeth when he smiled. “Who the hell doesn’t? Merete was the most dangerous woman here in terms of the future of the government, the influence of Piv Vestergard, and the likelihood of the Radical Center Party grabbing the prime minister position. She was actually dangerous to anyone who pictured themselves in that position, and Merete would undoubtedly have achieved it for herself if only she’d been here a couple more years.”
“Do you think she’d received threats from anyone here?”
“Oh, Morck. We MPs are too smart for anything like that.”
“Maybe she had personal relationships that could have led to jealousy or hatred. Do you know anything about that?”
“As far as I know, Merete wasn’t interested in personal relationships. For her it was all work, work, work and more work. I knew her since she was a political science student, but even I was never permitted to get closer to her than she would allow.”
“And she didn’t allow it?”
The man’s teeth appeared again. “You mean, was anyone interested in her romantically? Of course, I can think of at least half a dozen men here who would gladly have given up their wives for ten minutes alone with Merete Lynggaard.”
“Did that include yourself?” Carl permitted himself a smile.
“Hmm, well, who wouldn’t?” The teeth disappeared. “But Merete and I were friends. I knew what my limits were.”
“But maybe there were others who didn’t?”
“You’ll have to ask Marianne Koch about that.”
“Merete’s former secretary? Do you know why she was replaced?”
“Well, not really. They’d worked together for a couple of years, but it could be that Marianne got a little too personal for Merete’s taste.”
“Where can I find this Marianne Koch today?”
A slyness appeared in Larsen’s eyes. “Where you just said hello to her ten minutes ago, I would imagine.”
“She’s your secretary now?” Carl put down his coffee cup and pointed toward the door. “The woman sitting out there?”
Marianne Koch was the complete opposite of the woman who had escorted Carl up to the office. She was petite, with thick, curly black hair that seemed fragrant with temptation even from the other side of the desk.
“Why weren’t you still working as Merete Lynggaard’s secretary during the period just before she disappeared?” he asked, after the requisite introductory remarks had been exchanged.
She knitted her brow in thought. “I couldn’t understand it either. Not at the time, at any rate. I was actually quite ticked off at her. But then it came out that she had a disabled brother she was taking care of.”
“And?”
“Well, I thought she had a boyfriend since she was always acting so secretive and was in such a hurry to go home every day.”
He smiled. “Was that what you told her?”
“Yes, it was dumb. I can see that now. But I thought we were closer friends than we really were. You live and learn.” She gave Carl a wry smile, revealing a whole set of dimples. If Assad ever met her, he’d never be able to get on with his life.
“Did anyone ever try to make a pass at her, here at Christiansborg?”
“Oh, yes. Men were always leaving her messages, but there was only one who made a serious attempt.”
“Would you care to reveal who that might be?”
She smiled. She was willing to reveal anything if it pleased her.
“Of course. It was Tage Baggesen.”
“OK, I’ve heard that name before.”
“That would really make him happy to know. I think he’s held chairman positions for the Radical Center Party for at least a thousand years.”
“Have you ever mentioned this to anyone else?”
“Yes, to the police, but they didn’t seem to think it was relevant.”
“Do you?”
She shrugged.
“Were there others?”
“Lots of others, but nobody serious. She took what she needed whenever she was traveling.”
“Are you saying she was an easy lay?”
“Good Lord, is that how you interpret it?” She turned away, trying to suppress her laughter. “No, she definitely was not. But she was no nun either. I just don’t happen to know who she went into the convent with. She never told me.”
“But her preference was for men?”
“Well, put it this way, she always laughed when the gossipmongers hinted otherwise.”
“Could you think of any reason why Merete might want to put her past behind her and create a whole new life?”
“You mean whether she might be sitting out there in Mumbai, soaking up the sun?” Marianne looked indignant.
“Some place where life might be less problematic, yes. Could you picture her doing anything like that?”
“That’s totally absurd. She was extremely conscientious. I know that some people collapse like a house of cards and one fine day they just disappear, but not Merete.” She paused for a moment, looking pensive. “But it’s a lovely thought.” She smiled. “I mean, that Merete might still be alive.”
Carl nodded. Plenty of psychological profiles had been done of Merete Lynggaard just after she disappeared,
