Hakan Nesser - The Weeping Girl

It was half past six in the evening when she finally got hold of Inspector Baasteuwel.

‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Are you back?’

‘I got home yesterday. I thought you said you’d be in touch?’

‘I tried, but I don’t like leaving empty messages on an answering machine.’

‘Really? Well?’

Baasteuwel paused.

‘We’ve shelved it.’

‘Shelved it?’

‘Yes. That was the best thing to do. We came to that conclusion, Kohler and I. I’m on leave now.’

Moreno’s mind was swamped by a tsunami of absurd incomprehension.

‘What the hell are you talking about?’ she said. ‘What about Vrommel? You said it was just a matter of time.’

She could hear Baasteuwel lighting a cigarette.

‘Now listen here,’ he said. ‘You have to trust me. It wasn’t possible to pin down that bastard as we’d hoped. We were in total agreement, Kohler and I, that we should stop digging into it any further. Vegesack as well. There was nothing else to take up, and no reason to take things any further. Not as things turned out.’

‘Not as things turned out?’ said Moreno. ‘What do you mean? I don’t understand what you’re saying.’

‘Maybe not,’ said Baasteuwel. ‘But that’s how things turned out in any case. You would agree with me if you had all the details in front of you.’

‘Details? What details?’

‘Rather a lot of them, in fact. I can assure you that this is the best solution. It’s just the way it turned out — that’s how it is in a lot of cases, as you ought to know.’

Thoughts were piling up inside Moreno’s head, and she pinched herself on the arm several times to check that she really was awake before continuing.

‘You swore blind that you were going to put Vrommel behind bars,’ she reminded him angrily. ‘An innocent girl has disappeared and a man has been murdered. You became a police officer in order to get the chance of putting guilty swine behind bars, and now. .’

‘It wasn’t possible on this occasion.’

‘And Van Rippe?’

‘The case is in the chief of police’s hands. Kohler and I were called in merely to help out with the early stages of the investigation, don’t forget that. We’ve left it now.’

Moreno removed the receiver from her ear and regarded it with suspicion for a few seconds.

‘Is it really Inspector Baasteuwel of the Wallburg police who I’m talking to?’ she asked eventually.

Baasteuwel laughed.

‘I am indeed that who,’ he said. ‘But I think I can detect a trace of impatience in the inspector’s voice. It sounds almost as if she’s wondering about various things.’

‘Too right I am,’ said Moreno. ‘You’ve hit the nail on the head, dammit. I don’t understand what language you’re speaking. You are abandoning a murder and a missing girl, and going on leave. On which side is your brain haemorrhage?’

‘Right in the middle,’ said Baasteuwel cheerily. ‘I agree that I might well sound a bit off course now that my holiday is beginning to take root. But if you really do want to find out a bit more about what’s been happening in Lejnice, I suppose I might be able to get a grip and accede to your request.’

‘It’s your duty, dammit,’ said Moreno. ‘Where and when?’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘The sooner, the better.’

Baasteuwel seemed to be thinking it over.

‘Somewhere in Maardam, perhaps? So that you’re on home ground.’

‘Sounds good,’ said Moreno.

‘Gamla Vlissingen — is it still there?’

‘It certainly is.’

‘Okay,’ said Baasteuwel. ‘Tomorrow at seven o’clock, will that be okay? I’ll book a table.’

‘That will be excellent,’ said Moreno.

She hung up and stared out of the window, which was just beginning to be splattered with a new downpour of rain coming in from the west.

I don’t understand this, she thought. I haven’t a bloody clue what’s going on.

6 August 1999

The Vlissingen restaurant was just as full as usual. She was slightly late, and passed by the solitary girl in the corner without reacting. It was only when she had walked around and investigated the whole of the premises — and established with some irritation that Inspector Baasteuwel didn’t seem to be there — that she realized who it was.

And even then it was some time before her brain was able to interpret what her sight had told her. She shut her eyes tightly in order to reinstate reality, then walked over to the table. The girl began to stand up, then changed her mind and sat down again. Then she gave a tentative smile. Very tentative.

‘Mikaela?’ said Moreno. ‘Mikaela Lijphart? Is it really you?’

‘Yes,’ said the girl, with a nervous laugh. Moreno could see that her lower lip was trembling.

‘Inspector Baas. .?’ Moreno began, but at the same moment the penny dropped and it dawned on her that no, Inspector Baasteuwel would not be coming to the Vlissingen restaurant this evening. This was how he had planned it. This was what lay behind the inconsistencies of the previous evening’s telephone call.

Good Lord, she thought, surely I ought to have caught on? Then she produced the biggest smile she was capable of and encouraged the girl to stand up so that she could give her a big hug.

‘I. . I’m so glad to see you,’ she said.

‘Me too,’ Mikaela managed to say in return. ‘It was him. . Inspector Baasteuwel. . who said you would no doubt want to meet me. He said I should wait here for you. And he gave me some money so that I could treat you to a meal as well.’

If it hadn’t been for the girl’s anxious voice, Moreno could have burst out laughing. But Mikaela felt anything but at ease, that was very obvious. They sat down. Moreno put a hand on her arm.

‘You’re worried.’

‘Yes. It’s so horrible. I can’t sleep at night.’

‘You realize. . I expect you realize that I want to know what happened?’

‘Yes. .’ Mikaela looked down at the table. ‘I know I have to tell you everything. I’m so grateful that you were so kind to me on the train, and I know that you’ve been working very hard ever since as well.’

Moreno tried to produce another encouraging smile, but could feel that it had difficulty in establishing itself.

‘It wasn’t all that much of an effort,’ she said. ‘Shall we order so that we can eat while we’re talking, perhaps?’

It took some time to place the orders. Moreno wondered if she had ever been in a situation like this before. She didn’t think so. Her feelings told her this was the case, although it was of course anything but clear what the precise situation was. She had spent days, nights, weeks, trying to understand what could have happened to this girl who had disappeared without trace, and now she was suddenly sitting face to face with her at a restaurant table. Without so much as a second’s warning. That damned Baasteuwel, she thought. No, she’d never experienced anything like this before.

And Mikaela wasn’t well. She looked pale and out of sorts. It seemed pointless starting to talk to her about banalities — the weather and the wind, and if she’d been to the cinema lately — totally pointless.

‘Let’s hear it, then, Mikaela,’ she said instead. ‘You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do. I think you said that the last time we met.’

‘No, it was you who said that,’ said Mikaela. ‘Where shall I start?’

‘At the beginning, of course. From when we said goodbye outside the station at Lejnice.’

Mikaela raised her gaze and looked Moreno in the eye for a few seconds. Then she took a deep breath and launched into her account.

‘Well, at first everything went just as I’d expected it would, in fact,’ she began as she slowly clasped her hands on the table in front of her — as if it were an accomplishment she had just learned and was still finding it a bit difficult to achieve, Moreno thought.