Tobias sat down again and opened the file. He took out one of the stills copied from the news footage of the demonstrations. Emily Rasmussen being arrested. She was looking straight at the camera. A policeman gripped one of her arms. She had the other raised in a clenched fist salute. A spirited girl. An attractive girl. But also neurotic and jealous, according to her step-father. Where was she now?
Saturday: Week Two
28.
Nicholas Hove got up from behind the desk in his office overlooking the harbour in Aarhus, shook hands with Tobias and said genially, “I haven’t been interviewed by the police since my old days as an activist. Take a seat, Chief Inspector. I see you have to work on holiday weekends too. No rest for the wicked. What can I do for you?”
“It’s about your days as an environmental activist,” said Tobias. “Specifically, about a protest at Skovlynd in the late nineties.”
“I remember,” said Nicholas Hove. “The golf course versus Bechstein’s Bat. The golf course won. Not surprising, given the amount of money Kurt Malling was willing to throw around.”
Tobias raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t mean money in brown envelopes,” said Nicholas Hove smoothly. “Malling was a big donor to the library and the museum,” he paused, “as well as the conservative party, of course. You know he’s standing in the election?”
Tobias nodded.
“Is someone suggesting there were kickbacks?” said Hove. “Is that what this is about? It’s a bit late in the day, is it not?”
“This is about a murder enquiry,” said Tobias.
Hove looked surprised, but not perturbed. “Who’s been murdered? Is it someone I know?”
“We found human remains in a bog at Roligmose,” said Tobias.
“I read about that,” said Nicholas. “Why do you want to speak to me?”
“We have reason to believe they are the remains of someone who was part of a protest against building the golf course at Skovlynd. Do you remember Emily Rasmussen?”
Hove looked shocked. “The reports said the remains were of a male.”
“That’s correct,” said Tobias. “We haven’t identified him yet. But we know his girlfriend at that time was Emily Rasmussen and she was part of the Skovlynd protest. We haven’t been able to contact her. Can you help?”
“I remember Emily Rasmussen,” said Hove. “I didn’t know her well.”
“Her boyfriend was called Lennart.”
Hove closed his eyes in concentration, opened them and shook his head. “Sorry. I don’t remember Emily with a boyfriend. There was a guy called Lennart who used to turn up at demos, but I don’t remember much about him.” He grinned. “I mostly noticed the girls.”
Tobias took an envelope from his briefcase and shook three photographs on to the desk. He turned them to face Hove and straightened each one of them.
“Can you name the people in these photographs,” he said.
Hove picked up each photograph in turn and studied it.
“I recognise my younger self, of course. But I have to think about the others. People came and went. Even Aksel.”
“Who’s Aksel?”
“He’d been on protests all over. He was a kind of green anarchist. He was the most committed of all of us.”
“Is he in any of these photographs?”
Hove shook his head. “Aksel was good at avoiding being photographed. And avoiding arrest.”
“What’s his surname? Do you know where he is now?”
“I don’t think I even knew it. I have no idea where he is now. Everything petered out after the arrests. We knew we’d lost. People drifted away.”
He picked up the first photograph again. “The girls chained to the Hydrema are Emily Rasmussen and Gudrun Jeppesen,” he grinned, “I had a bit of thing with Gudrun.”
“Is Emily’s former boyfriend in any of these photos?”
“Former boyfriend? Did Emily and he split up?”
“We assume so,” said Tobias. “She didn’t report him missing.”
“They must have broken up,” said Hove. “Do you know when he died?”
“About fourteen or fifteen years ago. We think no later than 1999. Probably just after the Skovlynd protest. Look again at the photos. Is he in any of them?”
“I don’t recognise him if he is. As I said, I don’t remember much about him.”
“Are you still in touch with Gudrun Jeppesen?”
“We haven’t spoken in a long time,” said Nicholas. His grin was sheepish now. “I married a friend of Gudrun’s. It was all a bit sticky.”
“I’d like to talk to her,” said Tobias. “Have you any idea where we might find her?”
Hove was silent for a moment. “I have no idea where she is now. At the time, she was sharing a house near the university.” He paused. “I have an idea she went to live on an island.”
“Keep the photographs,” said Tobias. “Let me know if you remember anything else.” He put his card on the desk.
Hove’s secretary put her head around the door. “Kurt Malling has arrived,” she said.
Tobias didn’t hide his surprise.
“Politics makes strange bedfellows,” said Nicholas Hove smoothly. “Malling wants my support for a wind farm project that’s running into opposition.” He laughed. “Bechstein’s Bat strikes again.” He stood up. “I hope I’ve been some help.”
He escorted Tobias to the door. “If you get in touch with Gudrun, give her my regards.”
Tobias found a Gudrun Jeppeson Holm in the white pages of the national telephone directory. She lived on the island of Aero. Was she even the right person? Was she at home?
Yes, she was the Gudrun Jeppeson whom Nicholas Hove had mentioned. Yes, she was at home. He could visit her.
Tobias made a quick calculation. It was nearly four hours to the ferry. Add another hour and a quarter for the crossing. Was it worth it? He could talk to her on the telephone. But that was never as good as interviewing someone in person. Assessing them.
“I’ll be with you by five o’clock this afternoon,” he said.
29.
Gudrun Jeppeson lived in a converted barn at the back of a cobbled yard in Aeroskobing, the postcard-pretty town on the east side of the island. Her sitting room was filled with wool in various stages of production. A loom stood in one corner. In another corner, knitted baby cardigans in blue, pink and yellow, hung from a rail. The table was covered with scraps of rainbow coloured woollen garments attached to knitting needles.
“I remember Emily,” she said. “She wasn’t the kind of girl you’d forget.” She swept up a pile of knitting from a chair. “Sit down.”
She picked up a partly finished red jumper from the table, and settled herself in an armchair. A ball of red wool followed the jumper and fell on the floor. Tobias could barely stop himself from picking it up. He tried not to look at the jumble of knitting on the table.
“When did you last see Emily?” he asked.
“I don’t think I’ve seen her or heard from her since the protest at Skovlynd.” Gudrun knitted as she spoke.
“Did you expect to hear from her?”
“Not really.” The needles clicked quietly. Gudrun scarcely looked at them, her fingers moved rhythmically as she spoke. “The group fell apart after the arrests. Nicholas Hove dumped me and went off with my best friend. She wasn’t even part of the protest. She was always mainstream. They only met because I introduced them.” Her mouth twisted in a smile. “She’s the reason he’s in politics.” She laughed. “I met someone else and came to live here. I run a mail-order business.”
“Do you remember Emily’s boyfriend?”
Gudrun nodded. “Lennart? Thin boy. Played the guitar. Clung to Emily like a leech. He liked to play a Simon and Garfunkel song. ‘
Emily, whenever I may find her’
.” She rolled her eyes.
“Do you remember his second name?”
Gudrun stopped knitting and thought for a moment. “Praetorius,” she said. “Lennart Praetorius.” She took up her knitting again.
At last. A name for Bogman. Tobias felt tired.
“How well did you know him,” he asked quietly?
“Not that well. He was quiet. He played his guitar. He didn’t say much in discussions. Some of the group thought he was a police informer.”
“An informer?” Tobias was wide awake again.
“We all thought there was an informer in the group. The police seemed to turn up at demos before we did. One time we organised a flying picket outside the developer’s house.”
“Kurt Malling’s house?”
She nodded. “That was his name, yes. He had a big house on the coast. Hectares of forest.” Gudrun’s face tightened with disapproval. “We fell right into a trap. The police were waiting for us. Nicholas accused Lennart of being an informer. Lennart accused Nicholas. They had a bit of a punch up.”
“A punch up?” Hove hadn’t mentioned that.
“They thumped and kicked each other,” said Gudrun. “Aksel intervened and calmed them down. But things weren’t the same after that. We all got suspicious of each other. That was another reason the group split up.”
“What about you? Did you think there was an informer?”
Gudrun nodded. “But I had no idea who it was. Some of the others thought it was Emily. She always seemed to have money.”
“I’ve seen footage of her chained to a Hydrema digger, being dragged off, being arrested.”
“She was never charged with anything. That was another reason some people thought she was an informer. Aksel thought the arrests might have been cover.”
“What was Aksel’s surname?”
Gudrun thought for a moment. “It might have been Schmidt, but I’m not sure. He wasn’t around all the time. He floated about from protest to protest. He had links with groups in other countries. He warned us about informers. He told us about police infiltrating protests in England and Germany.” She paused before adding thoughtfully, “He had a thing about Emily too.”
Tobias raised an eyebrow.
“Emily was a good-looking girl. To tell you the truth, I was a bit jealous of her. I hated that Nicholas fancied her. There were times when I could have scratched her eyes out.” She laughed. “Now I see him on television and wonder how I ever fancied him. But I never thought Emily was an informer. She was straightforward. Lennart too.”
“Do you know where Aksel is now?”
“I’ve lost touch with most people from those days, sorry. Nicholas Hove might know.”
“Why did he accuse Lennart of being an informer?”
Gudrun shrugged. “Maybe because Lennart was quiet. He listened. He didn’t talk much. Nicholas thought that was suspicious. Maybe he was a bit jealous of him as well. All the girls liked Lennart. I liked him. He brought out a maternal streak in me. In all of us, I think.”
“Did that make Emily jealous?”
“She didn’t show it. But I remember her saying if Lennart slept with anyone else she’d would never forgive him.”
“Do you think the punch-up could have been about that?”
Gudrun shrugged. “It might have been a factor.”
”Do you know where Emily and Lennart went after the Skovlynd protest?”
“No idea.” Gudrun shook her head. “They had a big blue van with a rainbow on it. I remember they went to Sweden in it. To an anti-nuclear protest. They travelled around a lot. They could be anywhere, if they’re still together.”
“They are not together,” said Tobias quietly. “Lennart Praetorius is dead. Two weeks ago we found human remains in a bog at Roligmose in East Jutland. We also found a bracelet we know was bought by Emily Rasmussen for her boyfriend, Lennart. Thanks to you, we now know his surname and can begin tracing his next of kin.”
Gudrun put down her knitting. She looked out at the rain falling in the courtyard. “That’s so sad,” she said.
“Are you in contact with anyone else from the Skovlynd protest?”
“I was there mostly because of Nicholas,” said Gudrun. “When he we split up, I lost interest. I didn’t keep in touch with any of them.”
“Can you think of anyone else who knew Emily and Lennart?”
“Apart from Nicholas? No.” She gave another of her crooked smiles. “Oddly enough, my husband has done some IT work for the golf course developer, Kurt Malling. Something to do with a wind farm project in Jutland. He tells me there’s a lot of opposition from green activists.” Gudrun picked up the knitting. She put it down again. “I’ve just remembered. My husband said the protests were being organised by some guy who’d been involved in protests all over Europe. England. Germany. Lapland. I thought he sounded a bit like Aksel. He was always going off somewhere else. He liked being where the action was.” She picked up her knitting again.
“How did Malling react to the protests? Was he heavy handed?”
“I’ll say. He hired extra security guards, as well as calling the police every time demonstrators turned up at the golf club or outside his house. That’s if they weren’t there already. Which is why we all thought there was an informer in the group.”
“What was Emily like?”
“Attractive, strong-willed. Fearless even. She wasn’t frightened of arguments. She stood up to Malling a couple of times.”
“In what way?”
“I remember once or twice him coming up to us with the security guards and ordering us to leave. Emily said it was a public highway and we had every right to be there. She had some other reason for not liking him. I remember her saying ‘I don’t like the company he keeps.’”
“What kind of company?”
“I think she meant politicians and policemen.”
Tobias turned down Gudrun’s offer of coffee and a snack. He was hungry, but it would be dark soon and he wanted to catch the last ferry to the mainland. While he waited on the slipway, he sent a two-word text to Eddy and Katrine. “Bogman name Lennart Praetorius.”