The Absent One: A Department Q Novel by Jussi Adler-Olsen

Author:Jussi Adler-Olsen [Adler-Olsen, Jussi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Literary, Reference, Contemporary Fiction, Literary Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Mystery, International Mystery & Crime, Thrillers & Suspense, Crime, Murder, Suspense, Thrillers
ISBN: 9780142196830
Amazon: B007FEFJ46
Publisher: Dutton
Published: 2012-08-21T05:00:00+00:00

It was almost eight o’clock in the evening when Carl found himself staring at Hardy’s empty bed up at the spinal clinic.

He grabbed the first person in white that walked past. “Where is he?” he asked, with foreboding.

“Are you a relative?”

“Yes,” he said, having learned from past experience.

“Hardy Henningsen has water in his lungs. We’ve moved him in here where we can assist him better.” She pointed to a room with a sign on the door that read INTENSIVE CARE. “Make it quick,” she said. “He’s very tired.”

There was no doubt that Hardy had taken a turn for the worse. The respirator was running at full throttle. He lay half supine in the bed: naked torso, arms resting atop the blanket, a mask covering most of his face, tubes in his nose, IV and diagnostic equipment everywhere.

His eyes were open, but he was too tired to smile when he saw Carl.

“Hi there, old buddy,” Carl said, putting his hand carefully on Hardy’s arm. Not that Hardy would feel anything, but still. “What happened? They say you have water in your lungs.”

Hardy said something, but his voice vanished behind the mask and the incessant humming of the machines. So Carl leaned closer. “Can you repeat that?” he said.

“I got gastric acid in my lungs,” he said in a hollow voice.

Christ, how disgusting, Carl thought, squeezing Hardy’s limp arm. “You’ve got to get better, Hardy, you hear me?”

“The feeling in my upper arm has spread,” he whispered. “Sometimes it burns like fire, but I haven’t told anyone.”

Carl knew why, and he didn’t like it. Hardy hoped to have an arm mobile enough that he could raise it, take the gauze scissors, and puncture his carotid artery. So the question was whether one should share his hope.

“I’ve got a problem, Hardy. I need your help.” Carl pulled a chair over and sat beside him. “You know Lars Bjørn much better than I do from the old days in Roskilde. Perhaps you can tell me what’s really going on in my department.”

Carl briefly explained how his investigation had been brought to a halt. That Bak thought Lars Bjørn was part of it. And that the police chief backed up the decision all the way.

“They’ve taken my badge, too,” he said in conclusion.

Hardy lay staring at the ceiling. If he had been his old self, he’d have lit a cigarette.

“Lars Bjørn always wears a dark blue tie, right?” he said after a moment, and with great difficulty.

Carl closed his eyes. Yes, that was correct. The tie was inseparable from Lars Bjørn, and yes, it was blue.

Hardy tried to cough, but hawked instead, a sound like a kettle about to boil dry.

“He’s an old alum from the same boarding school, Carl,” he said weakly. “There are four tiny scallops on the tie. It’s their school tie.”

Carl sat in silence. A few years ago, a rape at the school had nearly destroyed its reputation. What damage might this case cause?

Jesus Christ. Lars Bjørn had been a student at the school.

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