Once back at Simonsen’s flat, Anna Mia made her father some food and helped him pack. The Countess joined them a little later, but they didn’t talk about the case. The case was closed. Simonsen was placed in an armchair, where he tried to focus on reading a chess book. If they spoke to him he answered politely but in monosyllables, as if he was not one-hundred-percent clear on what was happening around him. The women let him sit. The Countess went to the kitchen two or three times to take a phone call and on one occasion she raised her voice, but when she returned she said nothing about it and neither of the other two asked her any questions. It was none of their business. It was close to eight o’clock in the evening before they were ready to leave.
All three of them traveled in the Countess’s car. Simonsen was relegated to the backseat, where he quickly fell asleep. The women took turns driving an hour at a time while they chatted and enjoyed themselves. They arrived at two o’clock and quickly agreed to let the sleeping man in the backseat stay where he was. They helped carry in the luggage and unpacked the essentials, then wrapped up the day with a glass of white wine before turning in. The Countess went to her room; Anna Mia went back to the car.
To her surprise, Anna Mia managed three hours of unbroken slumber, which she put down to the wine. In any case, the sun was rising when she opened her eyes and after a moment of disorientation she realized where she was. Her dad was also awake. He was sitting up and looking out the window. She smiled when she caught sight of him and said quietly, “Good morning and welcome to the North Sea. Want to walk down to the beach?”
Simonsen wanted nothing more. They got out of the car and, hand in hand, wandered over the outermost dunes and down toward the water. Once the sea was within sight, they stopped. Strong foam-topped breakers that shone like silver in the morning sun came roaring toward them, and the wind whipped their faces. Anna Mia rested her head on his shoulder.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it, Dad?”
“Yes. Yes, it is.”