“DEAD?” ANNE SOFIE Bjerre repeated, shaking her head, stunned.
Schäfer studied her attentively.
They had been waiting for her out in front of the apartment on Heibergsgade when she showed up with clinking shopping bags from Irma, the grocery store. And now she sat opposite him in an interrogation room at police headquarters. Her eyes were big. There was an almost blissful expression in them. The expression had appeared the second Schäfer had notified her that Lukas was alive, and the news of her husband’s suicide did not seem to dampen her euphoria at all. To the contrary, the emotion seems to have wrapped itself around her whole body like a cheap satin sheet.
“And you’re saying it was Jens who … That he tried to kill Lukas?” She shook her head, speechless. “I never would have believed that would even occur to him.”
“And yet I suppose it doesn’t come as a complete surprise,” Schäfer remarked dryly. “You knew Jens beat him. And you did nothing.”
Anne Sofie regarded him in silence. Then she cautiously asked, “Where is Lukas now?”
“He’s here,” Schäfer said. “Here in police headquarters.”
Her eyes lit up. “Can I see him?”
Schäfer gave her a blank look. “He doesn’t want to see you.”
Anne Sofie’s expression stiffened. Then she slowly nodded.
“It will take time,” she said. “He’ll learn to trust me again.”
“The drinking needs to stop!”
She nodded in agreement. “Yes, of course!”
“Completely,” Schäfer emphasized. “If you keep drinking, I can’t guarantee you that Social Services won’t take Lukas away. Do you understand?”
“I’ve touched alcohol for the last time. I promise you that.”
“I’m not the one you need to make promises to. Lukas is.”
“Yes, of course. Never again!” Anne Sofie held up her hand, as if she were ready to swear an oath. She was silent for a second, and then she smiled hopefully. “When can I see him?”
“You’ll need to talk to Social Services about that,” Schäfer said. “That’s not my department. But my impression is that you’ll have a week or two to get the apartment ready and whatever else you need to get a handle on as a result of your husband’s death.”
She nodded and folded her hands on the table in front of her. “And where will Lukas be until then?”
“With your sister.”
Her gaze drifted away from Schäfer. She had a daydreamy look in her eyes.
“When he comes home, everything will be different.” She nodded. “Everything will be fine again then. I know it.”
Schäfer raised one unimpressed eyebrow. He stood and mentally sized her up.
“Yes, you’ll get one more chance now, Anne Sofie. If you ask me, you don’t deserve it, but … you get one more shot. So you give it everything you’ve got, you hear?”
Schäfer left the room and headed straight for his office, his stride rapid and angry, and then he stopped when he spotted Heloise Kaldan on the bench outside his office.
Schäfer shook his head and tiredly rubbed his eyes. “You’re still here?”
Heloise looked up at him and shrugged. “Yeah, what did you expect?”
“What the hell have you been doing for all these hours?”
“The same as you: my job! I finished writing most of my article and now all I need is for you to fill in a few blanks. Plus a couple of quotes would be good.” Heloise got up. “What did the father say to the accusations?”
Schäfer took a deep breath and looked at his watch.
“If you get the head start you’re asking for, then you’ll get out of here and leave me be?”
Heloise smiled and drew an X over her heart with her index finger.
“All right.” Schäfer nodded. “But we’ll just need to go grab a bucket of coffee first. This might end up being a long night.”