applies also to the sick and to blood donors, who are to remain at home and await further instructions. Infringements of the curfew are a risk to public health and offenders will be strictly prosecuted
.
This communication was also undated, and signed by the Head District Consultant.
Jensen unpacked his case.
He put the two handguns next to each other on the bed and stood contemplating them.
The service pistol that he had taken from the police car was the better weapon, a 9 millimetre modified Parabellum. The Beretta, on the other hand, was lighter and less bulky.
He left both guns lying there, put a ballpoint pen and a new notebook in his pocket instead, donned his coat and hat and went out of the flat. On his way downstairs, he threw his torn overcoat down the rubbish chute.
CHAPTER 12
Inspector Jensen walked with measured steps, cutting across the car park and children’s play area. The playhouses looked like transparent plastic igloos. The only problem with them was that there were hardly any children in the area, even under normal circumstances.
The front entrance door and the narrow stairwell were identical to those in the block where he lived. The lighting was not working. Nor was the lift. He set off up the cramped, winding stairs. Stopped halfway to get his breath back. Listened. He knew there were people in a few of the flats, at the very least, and that the block was as shoddily built as his own, with very thin walls. Even so, he could not pick up a single sound to indicate human life.
On the seventh floor he stopped, looked all round and tapped very lightly on one of the doors. No reaction.
Jensen waited for a while, then knocked again. Harder this time. There was still nothing to be heard.
Jensen thumped the door heavily with his fist and said:
‘Police. Open up.’
This time he thought he could make out a sound from inside the flat. It sounded like a stifled sob. Or perhaps just a short, gasping intake of breath.
Jensen looked at the door. He could probably get it open. Under the alcohol law now in force, the police had formalauthority to enter private property. On his key ring he had a number of universal tools with which he ought to be able to open conventional locks to standard housing and places of work. The law had a whole series of supplementary paragraphs, exceptions and special provisions, all formulated in the vaguest of terms. It also outlawed the fitting of bolts and special locks to apartment doors. This applied under normal circumstances. Where the dividing line ran between normal and other circumstances was never clearly stated, but there was a very simple rule of thumb to help in the decision-making process. This was a normal residential area and a normal door and he was very probably capable of opening it. But before he could do so, he had to suspect that a crime had been committed.
There were sudden sounds of activity from the flat. Large, heavy objects were dragged across the floor and thumped against the door from the inside. The people who lived in the flat were barricading the entrance.
Jensen turned and went back down the stairs. Even three floors below, he could still hear something, presumably furniture, being shifted and piled up.
The door opened inwards. He was convinced he could have forced it anyway.
The rain was still drumming outside, peaceful and soothing. The mistiness persisted and the cloud height seemed no more than two hundred feet.
Inspector Jensen paused briefly and looked about him. The patrol car was where he had left it the night before.
The patrol car was intended for police use only, and built for the purpose. It was bulletproof with unpuncturable tyres. It could be locked from the inside and had two sets of radio equipment, a built-in tape player and a specially tuned engine.Jensen was very familiar with its construction. He went up to it, unlocked the door and sat behind the steering wheel. Tried out the tape player. It was working, but there was
.
This communication was also undated, and signed by the Head District Consultant.
Jensen unpacked his case.
He put the two handguns next to each other on the bed and stood contemplating them.
The service pistol that he had taken from the police car was the better weapon, a 9 millimetre modified Parabellum. The Beretta, on the other hand, was lighter and less bulky.
He left both guns lying there, put a ballpoint pen and a new notebook in his pocket instead, donned his coat and hat and went out of the flat. On his way downstairs, he threw his torn overcoat down the rubbish chute.
CHAPTER 12
Inspector Jensen walked with measured steps, cutting across the car park and children’s play area. The playhouses looked like transparent plastic igloos. The only problem with them was that there were hardly any children in the area, even under normal circumstances.
The front entrance door and the narrow stairwell were identical to those in the block where he lived. The lighting was not working. Nor was the lift. He set off up the cramped, winding stairs. Stopped halfway to get his breath back. Listened. He knew there were people in a few of the flats, at the very least, and that the block was as shoddily built as his own, with very thin walls. Even so, he could not pick up a single sound to indicate human life.
On the seventh floor he stopped, looked all round and tapped very lightly on one of the doors. No reaction.
Jensen waited for a while, then knocked again. Harder this time. There was still nothing to be heard.
Jensen thumped the door heavily with his fist and said:
‘Police. Open up.’
This time he thought he could make out a sound from inside the flat. It sounded like a stifled sob. Or perhaps just a short, gasping intake of breath.
Jensen looked at the door. He could probably get it open. Under the alcohol law now in force, the police had formalauthority to enter private property. On his key ring he had a number of universal tools with which he ought to be able to open conventional locks to standard housing and places of work. The law had a whole series of supplementary paragraphs, exceptions and special provisions, all formulated in the vaguest of terms. It also outlawed the fitting of bolts and special locks to apartment doors. This applied under normal circumstances. Where the dividing line ran between normal and other circumstances was never clearly stated, but there was a very simple rule of thumb to help in the decision-making process. This was a normal residential area and a normal door and he was very probably capable of opening it. But before he could do so, he had to suspect that a crime had been committed.
There were sudden sounds of activity from the flat. Large, heavy objects were dragged across the floor and thumped against the door from the inside. The people who lived in the flat were barricading the entrance.
Jensen turned and went back down the stairs. Even three floors below, he could still hear something, presumably furniture, being shifted and piled up.
The door opened inwards. He was convinced he could have forced it anyway.
The rain was still drumming outside, peaceful and soothing. The mistiness persisted and the cloud height seemed no more than two hundred feet.
Inspector Jensen paused briefly and looked about him. The patrol car was where he had left it the night before.
The patrol car was intended for police use only, and built for the purpose. It was bulletproof with unpuncturable tyres. It could be locked from the inside and had two sets of radio equipment, a built-in tape player and a specially tuned engine.Jensen was very familiar with its construction. He went up to it, unlocked the door and sat behind the steering wheel. Tried out the tape player. It was working, but there was
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