KIM SLEIZNER LOCKED his car and hurried through the garage under Copenhagen’s police headquarters, away from the sound of sirens. Away from the traffic jams that had made the drive in from Amager take forty minutes. Away from the chaos and confusion. But it was impossible.
Even in the lift, where a vacuum-like calm normally reigned, all he could hear was a cacophony of wailing police cars and ambulances. He hadn’t even known they had so many cars. And he was the one who never missed an opportunity to beat his drum about the police not having enough resources.
He didn’t know exactly what was happening because he hadn’t dared to turn his phone on. What little information he’d had he’d gleaned from the radio, where they were talking about a terror attack at Tivoli with a number of dead and injured.
That was terrible, of course. But what was worse was that the Swedes had turned out to be right, again. If it got out that they’d warned the Danish police but had been ignored and dismissed, it wouldn’t look good. He’d already been in trouble once because of Dunja. If it happened again, he’d be hard-pressed to avoid repercussions.
And for this to happen on the day he discovered his phone had been hacked was just beyond the fucking pale. How many of his calls had the little cunt listened in on? How many texts had she and her two pet freaks read? Had they been going through his emails and triangulating his position the moment he entered The Club? Or had she been able to access the microphone and listen to any conversation that took place while the phone was around? Or the camera. What if she’d had access to that?
It was a perfect shitstorm, concocted by Satan himself. As though the entire world had decided to stick it to him, of all people.
The light in the tunnel was Hesk. He was the one the Swedes had actually spoken to. He was the one who had been slippery and evasive. He was the one who had been more interested in tripping up Risk than taking the terror threat seriously and prioritizing the safety of the public. He was the one who seemed to have forgotten why he’d decided to join the police once upon a time.
‘There you are,’ said the annoying voice of Morten Heinesen before the lift doors had even opened fully. ‘We’ve been calling and calling, but—’
‘I know,’ Sleizner broke in as he stepped out of the lift. ‘I had to keep my phone turned off. Someone’s hacked it.’
‘Hacked?’ Heinesen hurried after Sleizner. ‘I’m sorry, are you saying it might be connected to what’s happening at Tivoli?’
‘It’s possible,’ Sleizner lied, and he continued down the corridor, which opened into a small open-plan office that was currently in a state of considerable commotion, with phones ringing and people talking over each other. ‘That’s why I’m going to need yours.’ Sleizner held out his hand.
‘I’m sorry, my phone?’
‘Bingo. Come on.’ He waved his hand impatiently until Heinesen finally handed over his mobile. ‘And the pin?’
‘3 2 8 7,’ Heinesen replied. ‘But for how long? I’m going to need—’
‘Just an hour or so. Don’t worry about it,’ Sleizner said, cutting him off. ‘Fill me in on what’s going on instead.’
‘Um, well, the problem is that no one really knows.’ Heinesen followed Sleizner down yet another corridor. ‘Quite a few things point to some kind of terror attack, but the thing is that it’s different from anything we’ve seen before.’
‘In what way?’
‘The attacker doesn’t seem to have done any of the usual things, like storming in with an automatic rifle and opening fire on the crowds to try to kill as many people as possible in as short a time as possible, which we’re obviously grateful for. Instead, he’s been using a range of methods. Some of the victims have been stabbed and others shot with a crossbow. We’ve even been told one of the victims was strangled.’
‘And what kind of numbers are we talking?’
‘Nine dead and five injured.’
At least it was single digits. ‘Let’s hope it stays that way.’
‘Hope springs eternal,’ Heinesen replied, trying to keep up with Sleizner as he strode down the hallway. ‘But according to the latest information, it’s not looking good for two of the injured. And four people have reported someone pricking them.’
‘Pricking them?’ Sleizner stopped and turned to Heinesen. ‘What do you mean, pricking them?’
Heinesen shrugged.
‘Well, whatever, people get paranoid. Just you wait. Soon they’ll be calling in to report blisters on their feet, thinking the attacker caused them. But fine. The question is what we do to minimize the number of victims and catch this bloke. How’s the evacuation coming?’
‘It’s slow. The total number of visitors is over twenty thousand and they all have to be searched and checked, and then there’s the possibility of widespread panic. But we’ve already started—’
‘Started?’ Sleizner interrupted. ‘Started what? Mayhem? Because that’s what I’m seeing when I look around.’ He waved his hand about as he continued walking. ‘People running around like headless chickens with no direction whatsoever.’
‘Well, actually, I think most people know what they’re doing,’ Heinesen said. ‘It’s obviously a high-pressure situation, but—’
‘Please don’t interrupt me again,’ Sleizner said, stopping outside the closed door to the IT department. ‘A better use of your time would be to make sure we close off H. C. Andersen, Vesterbrogade, Bernstorffsgade and—’
‘Tietgensgade,’ Heinesen cut in, drawing a stern glance from Sleizner. ‘I’m sorry, but we’re already closing the streets around Tivoli so we can move the visitors into an outer zone more quickly and check them there before releasing them.’
‘Okay? And who gave that order?’
‘Hesk.’
‘Did he now?’ That prick hadn’t been able to resist stepping in. ‘Good, then. At least something’s being done. And the special operations teams?’
‘Two have already gone in and four more are on their way, two of which will be—’
Sleizner raised a hand to silence Heinesen and opened the door to the IT department without knocking. He couldn’t bear to listen to whatever else Hesk had ordered. He’d only been gone for a few hours and the ingratiating little amoeba had already succumbed to megalomania.
Mikael Rønning was on the phone at a desk at the far end of the room. ‘Hey, I’m going to have to call you back.’ He ended the call and looked up at Sleizner.
‘Private calls during work hours,’ Sleizner said, entering the room. ‘Not good.’ He started cleaning his nails. ‘Not good at all. Especially considering that we’re in the middle of a terror attack. What do think of that, Morten?’ He turned to Heinesen, who didn’t seem to know what to say.
‘It wasn’t private.’ Rønning stood up. ‘I was actually talking to—’
‘Calm down,’ Sleizner cut him off with a chuckle. ‘Ever heard of a little thing called a joke? You know, ha-ha.’ He looked from Rønning to Heinesen and back but neither so much as cracked a smile. ‘Fine, forget it. The main reason I’m here is to apologize for being so surly about giving you my phone.’ He added a smile. ‘Better late than never, so I’m here now and I would like you to install that security update as quickly as humanly possible.’
‘As you might recall, I had set aside the whole afternoon yesterday, and given what’s happening at Tivoli, I have other things to see to.’
‘Then I suggest you reconsider your priorities. This doesn’t have to be difficult.’
‘I’ll see what I can do. Put it on the table over there with the pin code on a Post-it note.’
‘You have two hours. Then I’ll be back and I expect it to be ready.’
‘Then count on being disappointed. I won’t be able to even start until tonight, so there’s no point stopping by until after breakfast tomorrow morning.’
Sleizner put his phone down with a snort of derision and started walking back towards the door.
‘Don’t forget the pin,’ Rønning said and picked up his phone again.
Sleizner gritted his teeth, went back, jotted down his pin code on a Post-it note and stomped out with Heinesen hard on his heels.
‘But, Kim,’ Heinesen said. ‘I don’t think I can be without my phone until—’
‘One more thing, before I forget.’ Sleizner stopped and turned to Heinesen. ‘That Swede. Rusk, or whatever the fuck his—’
‘You mean Fabian Risk?’
‘Right. Has he reared his ugly little head yet?’
‘I think you’d better talk to Hesk about that. He’s at the scene and—’
‘But I’m talking to you now.’ Sleizner smiled. ‘Hesk has other things to think about. So I’m asking you to keep an eye out for Rusk. Unless I’m much mistaken, he’s going to do everything he can to be the one who apprehends the killer so he can hog the spotlight. But we will not let that happen, under any circumstances, are we clear? In Denmark, we do things by the book. That’s all I wanted to say.’ He patted Heinesen on the shoulder. ‘We’ll be doing the arresting today.’
‘And what does that mean?’ Heinesen swallowed. ‘I mean, if it turns out he is there, and—’
‘I think you know exactly what that means.’