it - especially several months after the case was closed; nevertheless had Peter Hansen his suspicions. He made himself comfortable at the keyboard and carefully entered the search criteria the records system required. He clicked slowly and with a certain pressure on the mouse button, and waited for the results appeared on the screen. He leaned forward slightly in his chair to read it and while he did he began to do something he rarely did - he smiled.
“Bingo!” he said quietly to himself.
He thought it sounded good to say ‘Bingo’ when the system gave the desired result; it was what a detective in a movie might say. It gave him a real buzz that the system produced exactly the result he had hoped for.
There it was; the same name in an almost fifteen year old case. Apparently there was nothing suspicious in the matter – how could a rich old man’s disappearance on a cruise to Alaska not be suspicious? His body was never found and it had been suspected that he just had fallen overboard. Perhaps it was just an accident, or he been taken ill or had a heart attack, maybe he had even suddenly committed suicide. He had not travelled alone since he was married and had his wife - Marie Tofte-Nielsen – with him. She had kept her maiden name, even though she was married to a very wealthy man. It had to be unusual.
Now he had his big break; he was convinced and the anticipation of him cracking both cases was almost too much. He found a picture of the woman on Google from the time she became a very wealthy widow, and considered it thoroughly; she looked a little different now. In the picture, she was not in the foreground, she was standing right behind another at the funeral, and she was a little grainy, but there was no doubt that it was her.
She had the same dark hair, but it was a bit shorter now. She had sunglasses and a hat on as she had for Damgaard’s funeral and rather full lips. There was something in her radiance, something indefinable that both repelled and attracted him. He could not quite put his finger on what it was, but as he looked at the picture, he was completely and absolutely sure of two things: Marie Tofte-Nielsen had killed her husband, Mikael Tuksen, and now she had killed Verner Damgaard.
The first murder, if it was murder - and it was Hansen sure - had left her with so much money that she could live a life of luxury and ease, just on the interest...so what was she doing with a second-rate TV ‘star’ called Damgaard? He looked up her name in Google, but there were only individual results from newspaper articles on the latest death. She apparently liked a low profile, and it only contributed further to increase his suspicions. Most women who marry for money and fame try to grab the lime-light so why not her?
While he sat and looked at the picture of her, and again read about the case with her rich husband an idea began taking shape in his brain; he was amazed that it had never occurred to him before. Either it was really stupid, or simply brilliant, but he thought it was the latter; he fervently hoped so at least. If he should actively pursue the idea, he would do so with great caution and shrewd talent, just the characteristics that most doubted he possessed.
He had a lot of overtime hours from the fraud case and he had not cashed them in yet. It was always preferred, in the interests of keeping costs low, that overtime was taken as extra leave as opposed to additional salary, irrespective of whether the general public suffered from the shortages of manpower. So he’d been thinking he could take a long vacation to Thailand and find himself a willing woman for a while, maybe even longer; he’d given up trying to attract a Danish woman unless she was even uglier than he was.
But instead of going on an extended date with some nubile twenty year old Thai girl, he would nail Marie Tofte-Nielsen and win the lottery. He had a feeling inside that was almost orgasmic and it was nothing to do with
“Bingo!” he said quietly to himself.
He thought it sounded good to say ‘Bingo’ when the system gave the desired result; it was what a detective in a movie might say. It gave him a real buzz that the system produced exactly the result he had hoped for.
There it was; the same name in an almost fifteen year old case. Apparently there was nothing suspicious in the matter – how could a rich old man’s disappearance on a cruise to Alaska not be suspicious? His body was never found and it had been suspected that he just had fallen overboard. Perhaps it was just an accident, or he been taken ill or had a heart attack, maybe he had even suddenly committed suicide. He had not travelled alone since he was married and had his wife - Marie Tofte-Nielsen – with him. She had kept her maiden name, even though she was married to a very wealthy man. It had to be unusual.
Now he had his big break; he was convinced and the anticipation of him cracking both cases was almost too much. He found a picture of the woman on Google from the time she became a very wealthy widow, and considered it thoroughly; she looked a little different now. In the picture, she was not in the foreground, she was standing right behind another at the funeral, and she was a little grainy, but there was no doubt that it was her.
She had the same dark hair, but it was a bit shorter now. She had sunglasses and a hat on as she had for Damgaard’s funeral and rather full lips. There was something in her radiance, something indefinable that both repelled and attracted him. He could not quite put his finger on what it was, but as he looked at the picture, he was completely and absolutely sure of two things: Marie Tofte-Nielsen had killed her husband, Mikael Tuksen, and now she had killed Verner Damgaard.
The first murder, if it was murder - and it was Hansen sure - had left her with so much money that she could live a life of luxury and ease, just on the interest...so what was she doing with a second-rate TV ‘star’ called Damgaard? He looked up her name in Google, but there were only individual results from newspaper articles on the latest death. She apparently liked a low profile, and it only contributed further to increase his suspicions. Most women who marry for money and fame try to grab the lime-light so why not her?
While he sat and looked at the picture of her, and again read about the case with her rich husband an idea began taking shape in his brain; he was amazed that it had never occurred to him before. Either it was really stupid, or simply brilliant, but he thought it was the latter; he fervently hoped so at least. If he should actively pursue the idea, he would do so with great caution and shrewd talent, just the characteristics that most doubted he possessed.
He had a lot of overtime hours from the fraud case and he had not cashed them in yet. It was always preferred, in the interests of keeping costs low, that overtime was taken as extra leave as opposed to additional salary, irrespective of whether the general public suffered from the shortages of manpower. So he’d been thinking he could take a long vacation to Thailand and find himself a willing woman for a while, maybe even longer; he’d given up trying to attract a Danish woman unless she was even uglier than he was.
But instead of going on an extended date with some nubile twenty year old Thai girl, he would nail Marie Tofte-Nielsen and win the lottery. He had a feeling inside that was almost orgasmic and it was nothing to do with
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