Free The Marco Effect: A Department Q Novel by Jussi Adler-Olsen

the Dutch did a shoddy piece of workindeed. Inadequate forensic analyses, incompetent investigation reports, too-slow reaction time. Effing infuriating, to put it mildly. We’re not going to get any further pursuing that course unless they suddenly come up with something new entirely down there.”
    “I see. So I shouldn’t be expecting one of your devastatingly detailed reports littered with the usual golden nuggets, is that it?”
    Carl pondered for a moment on Jacobsen’s sarcastic tone of voice. Something was definitely wrong here in the command bunker.
    “That’s not actually why I’m here.”
    “OK. To what do I owe the honor, then, Carl?”
    “I’ve got a problem. Assad’s still not up to scratch, so we’re a bit adrift at the moment. I’m utilizing the time tidying up all my portfolios.” He loved the word. No other was anywhere near as vacuous. “But it’s hard going not actually being on a case, because Rose keeps interrupting me all the time. Maybe we ought to kill two birds with one stone and take the opportunity to upgrade her. Can’t she tag along with a couple of your lads for a bit? She needs to be shown the ropes, learn how to knock on doors. I thought maybe she could team up with Terje Ploug or Bente Hansen’s boys. From what I’ve heard, they’re all moaning about how short-staffed they are.”
    His eyes narrowed as he peered in hope at his boss. While he’d been away, Rose had already amassed a pile of proposals as to what they ought to focus on. If he didn’t get her supertanker of excess energy rerouted in the very near future he’d be up to his eyeballs in case folders in ten seconds.
    “Manpower shortages, indeed. Nothing new under the sun, Carl.” Marcus Jacobsen smiled drily and began to toy with the cigarette pack on his desk. “You’ll have to make your own training program for Rose. None of my lot will want her getting in the way, that’s for sure. She’s not a fully trained police officer, Carl. She’s no business out there on the streets, you tend to forget that.”
    “I forget nothing. Especially not the fact that since the beginning of the year we’ve successfully wrapped up two cases thanks to Rose, even though Assad’s still on half days. In my book, Rose has completed her training to the full. Besides, we’ve got no investigation going on atthe moment in Department Q. I’m sifting through cases in my own time and I don’t want Rose getting bored. It’s bad for the nerves.”
    Marcus Jacobsen sat up straight. “I’m afraid that now you mention it, I reckon I
do
have something she could help us with. But before you send her out onto the streets on her own to mess things up, I suggest you go with her for a couple of days, OK?”
    He pulled out a folder ten centimeters down in a half-meter-high pile. If it was the right one, the man possessed a truly uncanny ability.
    “Here,” he said, handing it to Carl as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “Sverre Anweiler. Prime suspect in a case of arson involving a houseboat out in Sydhavnen. I’ve only skimmed the report, but it looks like insurance fraud gone wrong. Anweiler was listed as the owner and was nowhere to be found when it exploded and went down. Somewhat regrettable in view of the fact that his girlfriend, Minna Virklund, happened to be on board at the time and perished.”
    Perished
. It had become a typical Marcus expression. A bit cynical, perhaps, even for police HQ.
    “How do you mean,
perished
? Did she burn to death or drown or what?”
    “Haven’t a clue. All I know is that what used to be her body was found bobbing around the harbor, nothing more than charred lump among the wreckage.”
    “Sverre Anweiler, you say. Foreign?”
    “Swedish. The bulletin we put out on him led us nowhere. It’s like he just vanished off the map.”
    “Maybe he was a charred lump as well, at the bottom of the harbor?”
    “No, they checked that thoroughly.”
    “So he’s in Sweden,