Hakan Nesser - The G File

‘No water?’

‘No, that’s what he said. She’s lying at the bottom of the pool, he says she must have fallen in and killed herself.’

Sachs thought for a moment.

‘All right. What instructions did you give him?’

‘That he should stay at home and wait for us to come.’

‘Is there any reason to suspect foul play?’

‘Well. . Not as far as I know, but I thought it was best to-’

‘Yes, of course. Did you get any more information out of him? What did he sound like?’

‘A bit drunk, I think.’

‘Really? How drunk?’

‘I don’t know. It’s hard to say- but pretty drunk, I think.’

Sachs sighed.

‘So in fact it could be a hoax? Somebody having us on? In theory, at least.’

‘In theory, yes. But that’s not the conclusion I reached. And in any case, I suppose we have to-’

‘Yes, of course. Of course. What was the address, did you say?’

‘Kammerweg 4. And his name is Hennan, as I said.’

Sachs managed to find a pencil and noted it down.

‘I’ll see you there in about ten minutes,’ he said. ‘If you arrive before I do, don’t go in until I get there. Ring the doctor, but we’ll wait with the rest until we’ve been able to check up on the situation. Is that clear?’

‘Everything clear and understood,’ said Wagner.

‘Excellent. Let’s go!’ said Sachs, and hung up.

He went back to the bedroom. When he switched on the bedside lamp in order to be able to find his clothes, his wife, Irene, turned over and muttered something in her sleep. He eyed her briefly.

It’s actually true, he thought. She really does look like a dolphin.

Her face, at least.

He gathered together his clothes, switched off the light and crept out into the kitchen.

Wagner hadn’t yet arrived, but Dr Santander, the forensic medical officer, was already there. As Sachs made his way through the rather overgrown garden, he could see Santander standing next to a little collection of deckchairs at the edge of the swimming pool, talking to a sturdy-looking man in his fifties.

He could see them very clearly even though he was still some distance away, because the whole of the pool area was bathed in light. Several spotlights were attached to trees all the way round, and when the chief inspector emerged from the darkness the doctor gave a start and seemed almost scared. Just for a moment Sachs had the feeling that he had barged in on the set of a film being recorded, and it was not easy to shake off this impression despite the fact that Santander broke into a broad smile as soon as he recognized the newcomer. He introduced Sachs to the broad-shouldered man.

‘Welcome,’ said the latter. ‘My name is Hennan. Jaan G. Hennan. It’s my wife lying down there.’

He pointed with the hand holding a thin, black cigar between his index and long fingers. He was holding a glass in the other one. Sachs went up to the edge and looked down.

At the bottom of the empty and unexpectedly deep pool, a few metres out from one of the narrow ends, was a woman’s body lying on its stomach. She was wearing a red bathing costume, her arms were stretched out at odd angles, and a small pool of blood had spread underneath her head, in stark contrast to the white tiles. Her hair was also reddish, but a somewhat lighter shade. Sachs did not doubt for one second that she was dead, despite the fact that she must have been lying some fifteen to twenty metres away.

‘How do you get down there?’ he asked.

‘There’s a ladder over there.’

Now it was Santander doing the pointing.

‘I’ve had a quick look at her,’ he explained, adjusting his heavy, horn-rimmed spectacles. ‘It seems to be as Hennan says: she must have fallen down and. . well, died instantly.’

Sachs alternated his gaze between the doctor and Hennan several times. Hennan put down his glass.

‘What time was it when you found her?’ Sachs asked.

Hennan checked his gold wristwatch.

‘Just over an hour ago,’ he said. ‘I came home and couldn’t find her anywhere, so I went out, and. . well. .’

He thrust out his hands in an uncertain gesture. Turned round and looked down at the body at the bottom of the pool for a moment. Sachs tried to make eye contact with Santander, but the latter had opened his medical bag and was busy taking out various instruments.

‘It’s diabolical,’ said Hennan, taking a puff of his cigar. ‘Absolutely bloody diabolical.’

Sachs nodded and tried to form an opinion of him. He was obviously drunk, but at the same time he kept himself detached and under control in a way that seemed almost absurd in the circumstances — as if they were talking about a sick dog or something of the sort, rather than a dead wife. He was wearing light-coloured cotton trousers and a short-sleeved blue shirt hanging down over his waistband. And bare-footed — Sachs assumed he had taken off his shoes and socks before beginning to look for his wife.

Suntanned and trim. Dark, short-cropped hair with a touch of grey here and there, but not at all receding. A powerful-looking face with a wide mouth and very deep-set eyes.

‘How do you feel?’

Hennan seemed to weigh up various alternative answers before actually speaking.

‘I don’t really know,’ he said. ‘I suppose I’m not completely sober, unfortunately.’

Sachs nodded.

‘But I assume you must have had quite a shock. . Of some kind.’

‘The reaction usually comes later,’ said the doctor. ‘It often takes quite a while.’

‘Obviously I need to have a detailed discussion with you about what has happened,’ said Sachs. ‘But I suggest we wait until my colleague arrives — he should be here at any moment.’

‘Why do you need-?’ began Hennan, but Sachs interrupted him.

‘It looks like an accident, of course. But we can’t exclude the possibility of something else.’

‘Something else?’ said Hennan, but the penny seemed to drop immediately. ‘You mean. .?’

‘Exactly,’ said Sachs. ‘One never knows. Ah, here comes my colleague.’

Wagner emerged out of the darkness and greeted everybody present. Sachs noted that his uniform looked as if it had come from the tailor’s a mere ten minutes ago.

‘I’ve rung for assistance from Maardam,’ said Santander. ‘But you might like to go down and take a look before they get here?’

Sachs thought for a moment.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ll wait. But take Wagner down with you, and I can have a chat with Hennan in the meantime.’

If there is any reason to suspect foul play, he thought, it will be the Maardam CID who take charge of things anyway. And his young eyes are better than my old ones.

The doctor and the probationer went off towards the ladder at the far end of the pool. Sachs gestured towards the deckchairs. Hennan nodded somewhat nonchalantly, and they sat down. Sachs took out his notebook.

‘I’m going to ask you a few questions,’ he said. ‘It’s pure routine. We have to proceed in this way, so don’t take it personally,’

‘I understand,’ said Hennan, relighting his cigar that had gone out.

‘Your full name?’

‘Jaan Genser Hennan.’

‘And your wife’s name?’

‘Barbara Clarissa Hennan.’

‘Her maiden name?’

‘Delgado.’

‘Age?’

‘She. . She was due to celebrate her thirty-fifth birthday in August.’

‘A little younger than you, then?’

‘Fifteen years. What does that have to do with it?’

Sachs shrugged.

‘Nothing, presumably. And you live here?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Children?’

‘No.’

‘A nice place. How long have you been living here?’

Hennan puffed at his cigar and fingered his glass without picking it up.