The press secretary was visibly nervous as he entered the Prime Minister’s office. He delivered his account of the just-ended phone conversation in short bursts. The Prime Minister listened absentmindedly, then impatiently concluded that his election campaign, not the wellbeing of Kaare Strand, had to be front and centre.
‘I’m sick and tired of journalists who cannot tell their own interests from those of their country.’
The press secretary nodded slightly and gritted his teeth as he emphasised having explicitly asked DR not to air the news of Kaare Strand, accepting that this could be no guarantee that the national broadcaster would respect his request.
Twenty-five minutes later, as the evening’s news report ran across the TV in the home of every Dane, the Prime Minister and his press secretary watched with bated breath until the top story was announced: the kidnapping of the Jaeger Kaare Strand. The brutal images produced a horrified reaction across Denmark; in the Prime Minister’s office, the air thickened, like the smouldering fuse of a Molotov cocktail. And then came the explosion of questions. Who was responsible for leaking this story to the media? 264Who had sent the tape and why? According to the news report, Ulla had declined to comment on the story. But who was the man who’d made contact with her and made her keep silent? And who was he working for? This was still not evident from the wiretap reports PET had delivered. The two men avoided each other’s glances, stuck in a maze of missing answers. Someone was clearly behind the leak, but what had they hoped to achieve? The only plan the Prime Minister could identify was one aimed at destroying his election campaign. There could be no other motive. No one would risk anything for anything other than power; he was confident of that. Whoever they were, they had destroyed his strategy to keep a lid on this matter until after the elections. The question was simply who they were and who backed them? Trembling slightly, the Prime Minister reached for the remote control and switched off the TV, turning towards the press secretary:
‘What is the next move? Get these individuals identified and stop them. By any means necessary! Is that understood?’
Millions of Danes were trying to digest the news story, but nowhere did it evoke a more robust emotional response than in Ulla’s flat in Aalborg. She had turned off the television long ago but was still stupefied, staring into space as tears ran down her face. Her world had collapsed completely when that news story had rolled across the screen. Luckily, she was not alone tonight, and her mother’s calming arm around her shoulder almost managed to contain the shivering that was ripping through her body. Had the media no decency? Couldn’t they foresee these images’ impact on an expectant mother unwittingly watching? For them, it was only about ratings, Ulla’s mother thought angrily as she softly stroked Ulla’s hair.265