Read Online The Hanging: A Thriller by Lotte Hammer, Søren Hammer - Free Book Online
Authors: Lotte Hammer, Søren Hammer
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violence.
“Countess, haven’t you—”
“I’ll talk to Mrs. Lubert tomorrow,” Berg interrupted.
Everyone turned to her with astonishment. Their new colleague was apparently a woman with some self-confidence, perhaps a stroke too much. Simonsen grunted his consent and after a couple of seconds Troulsen realized that he had been relieved of his duty.
“From the bottom of my heart, thank you. You have no idea what you are walking into, but good luck … and for heaven’s sake, don’t ask any leading questions or you won’t hear the end of it.”
Then it was done, and the miracle complete. Troulsen sat down.
Simonsen resumed the proceedings. He had pumped the Countess as well as Arne Pedersen about the janitor. Neither of them had made any objections but he knew they were wondering what he was up to. For others, the work and the presentations could well have waited until the morning, as Pedersen had so correctly observed, but Simonsen had insisted.
“On to Per Clausen. The fact that I didn’t detain him is nagging at me. Perhaps it was a mistake, and although I know all too well that you believe I am attaching too great an importance to him, I think you are wrong. Time will tell. Our main priorities right now are clear: to establish the identities of the victims, how they ended up at the school, and why they were hanged. Nonetheless, Clausen is our best angle for the moment. Arne, Countess: you have done some fine work, and much faster than I believed could be accomplished.”
Pedersen commented, “It is because we don’t have to wait, regardless of whom we ask for what. Overtime at headquarters will increase exponentially if this goes on.”
“Which is not your problem, so forget about it. I see that you have prepared a complete little sideshow. We’re all waiting with bated breath.”
The Countess took over, but surprisingly did not start with Clausen’s life.
“Tomorrow I will get some computer assistance from a new co-worker. That is to say, our student intern. His name is Malte Borup. Be nice to him.”
She parried Simonsen’s evident surprise rather elegantly.
“As you recall, I was given permission to recruit him. Now he has been freed of his other duties so we should all be happy. He is an IT genius and you’ll love him, although he is a little rough around the edges.”
She beamed like a little girl at having gotten her student. It was something she had been working on for a long time.
Simonsen introduced a sour note into her happiness. “If he doesn’t fit in, he’ll be out the door before you can say ‘fatal error.’ Now tell us about Per Clausen.”
“Per Monrad Clausen was born in 1941 in Copenhagen,” the Countess began. “His parents were Anette and Hans Clausen. His father was a carpenter and later a master carpenter, his mother a housewife. In 1947 the family moved from Bispebjerg to Charlottenlund, where Per Clausen grew up, and in 1948 his little sister, Alma Clausen, was born. The family had no other children. Clausen did very well in school and his father was convinced to let him go on in his studies. He passed his university entrance in 1959, the same year that his father was made master carpenter. The family finances were in good order. After his examinations, Clausen worked in his father’s workshop for one year and then matriculated at the Statistical Institute at Copenhagen University in 1960. The following year, in 1961, he was given a scholarship spot at the Valkendorf College in downtown Copenhagen, which is only afforded the most gifted students. Clausen graduated in 1965 with high honors, tending toward the exceptional. He received the university’s gold medal for his thesis on spatial statistics and the distribution of prime numbers.”
While she was speaking, Pedersen supported her presentation with images or bullet points on the computer screen. The Countess took a sip of water, then went on.
“From 1965 to 1969, Clausen worked at Boston
“Countess, haven’t you—”
“I’ll talk to Mrs. Lubert tomorrow,” Berg interrupted.
Everyone turned to her with astonishment. Their new colleague was apparently a woman with some self-confidence, perhaps a stroke too much. Simonsen grunted his consent and after a couple of seconds Troulsen realized that he had been relieved of his duty.
“From the bottom of my heart, thank you. You have no idea what you are walking into, but good luck … and for heaven’s sake, don’t ask any leading questions or you won’t hear the end of it.”
Then it was done, and the miracle complete. Troulsen sat down.
Simonsen resumed the proceedings. He had pumped the Countess as well as Arne Pedersen about the janitor. Neither of them had made any objections but he knew they were wondering what he was up to. For others, the work and the presentations could well have waited until the morning, as Pedersen had so correctly observed, but Simonsen had insisted.
“On to Per Clausen. The fact that I didn’t detain him is nagging at me. Perhaps it was a mistake, and although I know all too well that you believe I am attaching too great an importance to him, I think you are wrong. Time will tell. Our main priorities right now are clear: to establish the identities of the victims, how they ended up at the school, and why they were hanged. Nonetheless, Clausen is our best angle for the moment. Arne, Countess: you have done some fine work, and much faster than I believed could be accomplished.”
Pedersen commented, “It is because we don’t have to wait, regardless of whom we ask for what. Overtime at headquarters will increase exponentially if this goes on.”
“Which is not your problem, so forget about it. I see that you have prepared a complete little sideshow. We’re all waiting with bated breath.”
The Countess took over, but surprisingly did not start with Clausen’s life.
“Tomorrow I will get some computer assistance from a new co-worker. That is to say, our student intern. His name is Malte Borup. Be nice to him.”
She parried Simonsen’s evident surprise rather elegantly.
“As you recall, I was given permission to recruit him. Now he has been freed of his other duties so we should all be happy. He is an IT genius and you’ll love him, although he is a little rough around the edges.”
She beamed like a little girl at having gotten her student. It was something she had been working on for a long time.
Simonsen introduced a sour note into her happiness. “If he doesn’t fit in, he’ll be out the door before you can say ‘fatal error.’ Now tell us about Per Clausen.”
“Per Monrad Clausen was born in 1941 in Copenhagen,” the Countess began. “His parents were Anette and Hans Clausen. His father was a carpenter and later a master carpenter, his mother a housewife. In 1947 the family moved from Bispebjerg to Charlottenlund, where Per Clausen grew up, and in 1948 his little sister, Alma Clausen, was born. The family had no other children. Clausen did very well in school and his father was convinced to let him go on in his studies. He passed his university entrance in 1959, the same year that his father was made master carpenter. The family finances were in good order. After his examinations, Clausen worked in his father’s workshop for one year and then matriculated at the Statistical Institute at Copenhagen University in 1960. The following year, in 1961, he was given a scholarship spot at the Valkendorf College in downtown Copenhagen, which is only afforded the most gifted students. Clausen graduated in 1965 with high honors, tending toward the exceptional. He received the university’s gold medal for his thesis on spatial statistics and the distribution of prime numbers.”
While she was speaking, Pedersen supported her presentation with images or bullet points on the computer screen. The Countess took a sip of water, then went on.
“From 1965 to 1969, Clausen worked at Boston
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