The Considerate Killer Read Online Free PDF

Søren. “When you feel ready.”
    â€œWhy?” she asked stupidly.
    â€œBecause you were the victim of an assault. Did you see who did it?”
    Assault. A couple of blows to the head. It didn’t make any sense.
    â€œNo,” she said. “I didn’t see anything.”
    The instant she said it, fear returned. It wasn’t even a fight-or-flight reaction. It was worse. It was the hopeless passive terror of the prey when there’s nothing more to be done except wait for death.
    Stop , she whispered silently to herself. There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re safe here.
    She could hear her own pulse crackle in her ears. Her body did not believe her reassurances; it knew better.
    â€¢ • •
    The young detective sergeant reminded Søren of one of his own officers, Gitte. Who wasn’t his at all, of course, even though he couldn’t help feeling a certain possessive pride because he was the one who had originally hired her.
    It wasn’t that they looked so very similar—the DS from Mid-West Jutland Police was somewhat smaller and darker and did not have quite Gitte’s impressive swimmer’s physique. But she had trimmed her hair just as short; she was just as young, and just as determinedly intelligent.
    â€œIn the last few months we’ve seen a rise in the numbers of robberies and assaults,” she explained. “Both break-ins and street crimes like the one your friend experienced. We’d like to establish whether or not there is a connection to any of the other cases.”
    He sensed that she was a little unsure about how to treat him. Was he a colleague or merely a relation of the victim? He had introduced himself at once and had stressed that his interest in “the case” was exclusively civilian in nature. The rest of the police force commonly had a strained relationship to the PET, and Søren didn’t feel like contributing to the general paranoia.
    â€œNina’s memory of the assault is pretty foggy,” he said. “At least at this point. But you’ll see that for yourself when she wakes up.”
    They both glanced through the glass door into the room—no longer in the intensive care unit, but an ordinary ward—where Nina now lay fast asleep. Mid-West Jutland Police had not rushed over as soon as they heard that the “victim” was conscious, but some hours later Detective Sergeant Caroline Westmann had arrived, armed with smartphone, case files, and ambition.
    â€œI can come back later,” she said.
    â€œShe’ll probably wake up in a little while,” said Søren. “She generally doesn’t sleep for hours at a stretch. If you have the time . . .”
    He didn’t want her to leave. Not until he had extracted a little more information from her.
    â€œAre there any witnesses?” he asked.
    She hesitated—again this uncertainty: colleague or outsider?—but apparently decided to allow professional courtesy to win the day.
    â€œA couple whose car was hit when the perpetrator made his escape,” she said. “And a few shoppers who saw him drive away. None of them have been able to give us a proper description, though they’re pretty much in agreement that there was only one. Right now the car is our best lead.”
    â€œDoes this fit into your pattern?” he asked. “A singe perp?”
    â€œNo,” she admitted. “In the other attacks two or three attackers were involved. They appear to be foreigners.”
    â€œTheir nationality?”
    â€œWe don’t know. The victim of one of the break-ins thought that his attackers spoke an eastern European language, but he wasn’t completely sure. They pulled a plastic bag over his head at the very beginning. He could have suffocated.”
    â€œWas that the intention?”
    â€œWe don’t know. Maybe just random brutality. Maybe they just didn’t care whether the victim