It was 8:45 the next morning when Louise met with Ulrik Fasting-Thomsen at his home on Strandvænget. On her way into Headquarters, she’d called him and asked for ten minutes for what she’d called a brief update.
He was still staying at a hotel in the city to avoid journalists. When Louise caught him on his cell phone, he apologized for his day being filled up with meetings and suggested they meet in the early morning, when he had to run by the house to pick up some papers he had on his desk.
The garden path was covered with yellow leaves, and it was wet from last night’s rain. Ulrik had parked his big Audi out on the street instead of driving it to the carport, and everything about the house looked abandoned and darkened when Louise walked up and rang the bell.
His suit was designer and the shirt underneath it white and freshly ironed. Well-groomed, like the first time she’d met him, thought Louise, even though the lines on his face seemed deeper, his chin more pronounced. He’s lost weight, she decided and followed him into the entryway, where a big pile of unread newspapers lay just inside the door.
Ulrik pointed to the living room and asked her to follow him.
“Should we make some coffee?” he asked, looking at her.
“Not for my sake,” Louise said.
She pulled out a chair from the long dining table and invited him to sit down.
“How did you and Nick Hartmann come into contact with each other? Did you advertise that you had a warehouse for rent?” she asked.
Ulrik shook his head.
“I gave him lessons a few times. He was mostly into parachute diving, but wanted to try paragliding. He went to a couple of my weekend courses, and one of the times we got to talking about his needing space.”
Louise took her pad out.
“Did you know what he’d be using the warehouse for?” she asked.
He shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m not interested in that sort of thing, as long as it’s not containers with hash or narcotics,” he said and smiled. “And I could see that it wasn’t.”
She nodded.
“You knew what he was storing there?”
“Yes, furniture, but I’ve only been by a single time since he moved his things in. I pay a man to keep an eye out for me.”
“What did you know about Nick and his business?”
Ulrik leaned forward a little toward Louise.
“I didn’t know much at all about him. I don’t about the renters in the other properties I own, either. I have caretakers and administrators who keep up with the individual leases. There are a couple of friends I’ve helped into an apartment, but otherwise there’s a law firm that’s responsible for the rents. The only thing I knew about Nick was that we had the same hobby.”
“Did you know that he had connections in the biker scene?”
A shadow passed over Ulrik’s face.
“I had an idea, or rather I should say that it doesn’t surprise me,” he admitted. “He talked a little about it at one point, and the money had to come from somewhere. He had expensive cars and seemed to like to live with a lot of flair.”
Louise waited for him to continue.
“But, honestly, I don’t get myself mixed up in where people’s money comes from, as long as they can pay their rent,” he said. “He was a decent and steady guy with a respectable job in a large shipping firm. His circle of friends, and who’s in it, didn’t interest me.”
She nodded a couple of times and changed the subject.
“I’ve been informed that you have a lover. Is that so?”
Ulrik scooted back in his chair and looked at her in surprise.
“Where did you hear that?”
“Do you have a relationship with another woman?” she repeated.
“Why?” asked Ulrik. “Why are you asking that?”
“Because,” Louise said, “I’d like to have a complete picture of everything that relates to you and your family. I want to know everything. Nick Hartmann was shot down, and the motive might be related to the things he was storing in your warehouse. Not long afterward, that same warehouse burned down.”
“The boathouse burned down,” Ulrik corrected. “And according to the charges you’ve made against my wife, there is a motive for it.”
“Who’s the woman you introduced as your wife when you visited Sachs-Smith in July last year?”
His face fell a bit. He sighed and his body slouched.
It was obvious that he was thinking it over before he said anything. Pros and cons were being considered with lightning speed in his mind.
“It’s true that I’ve had a relationship with another woman,” he admitted and glanced at Louise with a look that was more sad than ashamed. “I ended it after what happened to Signe. I suddenly couldn’t do it anymore, so I no longer see her, and I’d be very grateful if you would refrain from telling this to my wife. It’s over, and there’s no reason to hurt Britt any more than she already has been.”
“No,” Louise said, instantly agreeing. “But I need to ask you if it’s possible that your lover may have been involved in the fire down at the harbor.”
He looked at her in confusion, apparently at a loss for where she was headed.
“If you’d just ended your relationship because of your daughter’s death, then couldn’t your lover have decided, out of pure jealousy, to set fire to the boathouse and direct suspicion against Britt?”
Louise sat through his violent outburst.
“What in the hell are you saying! God, no, she couldn’t do that!”
“And you know that for a fact?” Louise asked and studied him.
He nodded, outraged. Combed his fingers through his hair and suddenly seemed unhappy. The rage left him, and he leaned back in his chair with a look of despair.
“She had nothing to do with it, because she was with me the night the fire broke out,” he said and looked straight ahead. “Up in Iceland. It was up there that I ended it between us. So, I can say with certainty that it wasn’t her.”
“OK, I take it someone can confirm that,” Louise said and stood up.
“You can call the hotel. We stayed at 101 in Reykjavik,” he told her. “They know us, we’ve stayed there several times before.”
“Are you visiting Britt out in the prison?” she asked when he followed her out to the entryway. She should have gone out there herself, but hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
He shook his head a little sheepishly.
“I’ve only been out there once. I think it’s hard. I don’t know what the hell to say to her.”
“I’m not sure you have to say anything. Maybe it’s enough just to be there,” Louise said.
He opened the front door and offered her his hand.
“Is it commonly known that you’re the one who owns the warehouse down at the harbor?” she asked before stepping out to the weather porch.
“No, but it’s listed in Krak’s Business Directory if you look it up, isn’t it? Or maybe my firm comes up, but it’s in my name.”
“You should know that the people Nick Hartmann created businesses for have started making very serious threats to his widow, trying to extort the unpaid money from her.”
“Did he borrow?”
Louise shook her head.
“It seems like they’re going after the value the one container of furniture would have brought in. We don’t know how he raised money for the second. But all the furniture is seized now, so that money’s lost. A few days ago, two men broke into the widow’s house and took all the valuables in the home. Now they’re trying to pressure her into selling her duplex apartment and paying 4 million kroner, or else they’ll take her daughter from her.”
Ulrik stood with one arm against the window frame and listened intently.
“It sounds absolutely insane,” he said. “Mafia methods. What if they find out that I’m the one who owns the property down there? Would they think of coming here?”
For the first time he seemed genuinely shaken, Louise thought. She shrugged her shoulders.
“They’re not the kind of people you’d want to owe money to. But if you didn’t have anything to do with Hartmann, then there’s nothing for them to come after.”
She walked down the steps.
“Do I have reason to be concerned?” he asked.
She turned to him, a bit annoyed that it should be that kind of worry that would upset him.
“You’d know best yourself,” she couldn’t resist saying.