Life and Limb Read Online Free

years.
    â€˜Please accept my apologies,’
    John Wagner mumbled as he took his seat next to Ida Marie. There was, however, nothing apologetic about his manner or bearing. There was only the familiar gravity which had settled in his eyes and could be observed from the end of the table where she and Bo were sitting. In honour of the occasion he had donned not his usual tweed jacket but a dark suit that emphasised his slightly exotic appearance of grey-tinged hair with a complexion that spoke of genes from more southern climes. Attired thus, he reminded Dicte of a conductor of a symphony orchestra, with a rather curved nose, and heavy eyelids which could be mistaken for tiredness, but which concealed a gaze that took in everything around him.
    She understood his gravity. It was a kind of instinct and, as fate would have it, they both had this instinct – although, of course, they had never spoken about it. Over the years they had only had a handful of one-to-one conversations, and it had resided there forever, this quality that they shared, whether they liked it or not. It was as if they were driven by a fascination with evil and whatever inspired evil. As though each of them were destined to try to create order from the chaos that followed when death did not arise from natural causes. He, with law on his side and from his top management position in the Aarhus Crime Squad (or what now, following recent reforms, was called the East Jutland Police Crime Division); she with few weapons other than an eternal urge to question and sift the truth from lies.
    After half an hour people began to change places, circulate round the room or make for the toilets. Fragments of conversation floated on waves between the corners. Some of them were about Dorothea Svensson, but there were also some about the body in the car park. Rumours were already rife, perhaps spread by the restaurant staff. After all, Varna was close to NRGI Park, the stadium’s official name. Snippets like ‘young woman’ and ‘Wagner’s on the case’ and ‘poor Ida Marie’ found their way into Dicte’s hearing. Into Wagner’s, too, because he withdrew, struggled with a terrace door and stepped into the fresh air. She saw him standing there, quite still, perhaps listening while staring at the grounds – but more likely into his own soul.
    â€˜Are you leaving?’
    He turned and didn’t seem in the least surprised. Then he nodded.
    Dicte approached with caution so that he would not just turn on his heel.
    â€˜It’s a ritual thing, isn’t it? The business with the eyes?’
    His gaze contracted; his lips became tight. But it seemed to be more an instinctive reaction than a considered one, because then he smiled a little.
    â€˜You’re well informed, as always. What have you got up your sleeve this time?’
    Dicte rummaged in her bag and found the girl’s mobile phone. She passed it to him, and he took it.
    â€˜Something the police missed.’
    She motioned towards the telephone. ‘It’s called pocketfilm.dk. The daughter thought she might win a school competition with it.’
    â€˜By filming a dead body?’
    She nodded. Wagner stared at the phone in his hand. It wasn’t his fault that only the mother was questioned. He had appeared late on the scene and someone else had made the initial decisions, but she knew he was annoyed.
    Now he would feel indebted to her. He would fight it, although his basic sense of fairness would win the battle, and she would get what she wanted. She hoped.
    Dicte turned to go. The article about the eyeless body would not write itself.
    â€˜By the way …’
    She stopped in mid-stride and turned.
    â€˜I’ve only borrowed it, and I said you would call tomorrow. You know how much mobiles mean to children, so it’s important she hears from the police that she is helping to solve a murder case.’
    He weighed the phone in his hand