Louise was in a better mood after devouring a McFeast and several Chicken McNuggets. Markus had eaten two bites of his food and then ran off to the playroom full of balls. It was a battle to get him out of there. After a few pointed remarks from two mothers with toddlers, they realized he was too big to romp around in the ocean of colored plastic balls. Three feet eight inches was the limit, and he was taller. They agreed this would be his last time in the room, and he decided it had to be celebrated. He extracted promises of ice cream and films before consenting to go home. Louise walked her bike with Markus on the seat.
“How are things over in Jutland?” she asked over her shoulder.
“The way they always are, thank God,” Camilla’s mom answered. “Peace and quiet. I have plenty of time to do as I please, unlike you two.”
The only thing they’d talked about all evening was the two “girls.” In her opinion, they both worked way too much and took very little care of themselves. They’d tried in vain to convince her she was wrong.
“Usually I have a lot of time to spend on myself and that little guy.” Camilla threw him a look full of love. “But if I didn’t work, how much fun do you think we could afford to have?”
Her mother sighed. “I’m thinking more about having time for grown-ups once in a while.”
Camilla sneered. “Do you have someone particular in mind, if I may ask?”
“A nice man, for instance, but you’ve become so independent and picky that you don’t even see the possibilities, dear.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being picky.”
“No, certainly not. But we can be open to people.”
Louise stayed out of it. This conversation happened every time they were together.
“There must be men at your work,” her mother continued. “It’s such an exciting place.”
Louise admired her for her persistence. It never led to anything, but she kept at it, hoping some of it would rub off on her daughter.
“Strange, but there’s no possibilities there. And anyway, it’s not very smart to get involved with someone you work with.”
Louise laughed. “Since when did that stop you?”
Camilla’s mother was all ears. “Is there something I haven’t heard about?”
“No.” Camilla held her open palm out in frustration. “Listen. If anything happens on that front, I will let you know, and if you run into my future husband, I am open to meeting him. How does that sound?” End of discussion.
“Fine,” her mother and Louise said in chorus. Camilla opened the front door.
“You’re all crazy,” Markus said, his finger circling beside his temple. He darted up the steps.
They all agreed he was right and followed him.
Markus was asleep by nine, and Camilla’s mother began yawning.
Louise went out in the kitchen, looking for a pack of sweet biscuits she could do some damage on.
“I’m going into town this evening,” Camilla yelled as Louise rummaged through her cupboards.
“You have a date?” Louise was surprised. She found a roll of Marie biscuits behind a box of cornflakes and walked back into the living room.
“No, actually I’m thinking of swinging by a nightclub, no date.”
That really surprised Louise. “What, you’re going in to score?” Camilla usually didn’t go into town alone.
“No, I’m not that desperate. I’m going to try to find out who this Finn is.”
Louise studied her. “Why are you doing this? What’s so important that suddenly you’re going to spend Thursday night hanging out with drug dealers? You don’t know these people. At all.”
“I think it’s important to find out who killed Frank.” Camilla was indignant.
“And you’ve decided you’re the one to do it?” Things went on in Camilla’s brain that Louise simply couldn’t figure out.
“The head of Narcotics must not think it’s so strange, since she asked me to.” Camilla had known this discussion would come up if she let Louise in on her plans, and she’d decided not to tell her. But now it was too late.
“I’m going with you.” It would be hell getting up in the morning and going to work, but the thought of Camilla out there alone was worse.
“You don’t need to. I can handle this alone. I’m not planning on doing anything risky.”
Louise ignored that. “Where are we going?”
Camilla stood a moment. Was it best to be on her own? Maybe having someone along wasn’t such a bad idea. “You don’t think these people can see you’re a cop?” She studied Louise.
Louise raised her voice. “Are you kidding? Do I look like a cop?”
“Well…no,” Camilla admitted.
Louise was wearing a tight off-white sweater, worn Diesel jeans, and pointed-toe boots, and her full, wavy dark hair hung down on her shoulders.
“We’re going to a nightclub close to King’s New Square. It doesn’t open until midnight, but there’s a bar next door. We might be able to get someone to talk.”
“How do you know about these places?”
“Birte Jensen told me about the nightclub. And then I’ve checked some articles in our archives, and the King’s Bar keeps popping up. So, I’m just guessing.”
“And we agree this is only about finding the informant, right?”
Camilla nodded.
“Let’s do it then. But.” Louise looked sternly at her friend. “You will not start asking about anything else. These guys are nasty, and a blue-eyed blonde won’t blind them. Not if they suspect you’re pumping them for information over a drink, anyway.”
“No, I know that.” Camilla sighed and put her coat on. “Let’s just go.”