you to go to the police.”
The interview room at the police station wasn’t like the
ones on TV. It didn’t have two-way mirror or anything fancy like that. The
elderly sergeant produced an ancient tape recorder and he invited Ingrid to
give her name and address before she made her statement. Ingrid had brought her
thesis and photographs of the fake artifacts along with her, but that only
seemed to confuse him.
“So let me get this right, Ms Sorrenson. You believe that
someone has been stealing from the museum, replacing the artifacts with fakes,
and that since you brought your theory to your boss, he hasn’t been seen?”
Ingrid nodded nervously.
“You need to speak into the microphone, dear. Nodding your
head doesn’t work.”
“S-s-sorry,” she stammered. “I mean, yes. Dr. Martin was
very concerned. He said he was going to speak to Mr. Jasson, in case there had
been a mix-up or something…” Oh god that sounded so lame. No wonder they were
looking at her as if she was an idiot.
“I’m just worried about David. I mean Dr. Martin.” Damn. Now
she sounded like a hysterical female who was in love with her boss.
“These are very serious accusations, Ms. Sorrenson. Are you
sure you want to make them?”
Ingrid didn’t hesitate. There was no going back now. “I’m
certain.”
It seemed like forever before her statement was typed up and
brought for her to sign. When she finally left the police station two hours
later, she felt like a limp rag. Strom and Jake were waiting across the street.
“How was it?”
“Awful, they think I’m an idiot.”
Strom put his arm around her. “Hush, let’s get you home.”
More police arrived early the following morning. Not the
kindly sergeant this time, but two sharp-eyed plainclothes detectives. They
were very interested in her story. She wasn’t the only one who had contacted
the police about the Martins the previous night. One of the neighbors had a
spare key for the Martins’ house, and when she let herself in to put away their
mail, she had found David’s body.
Their questions were endless. Could she repeat her story
again? Just how well did she know Dr. Martin? Were they in a relationship?
Where was she every minute of the day for the past week?
Then there was Jake. She had introduced him as her boyfriend
at the museum. Her colleagues had seen them together. David Martin’s secretary
thought they were engaged. Strom raised his eyebrow when he heard that one, but
wisely said nothing. They questioned them together. They questioned them
separately, but it was hours before they were released from the police station.
They hadn’t had much time to concoct a mutual alibi and now the police were
convinced that she was a sex-crazed curator who spent all of her time in bed
with Jake when she wasn’t at work.
Once the police became involved, Strom went back into
mission mode. It was as if their tender interlude had never happened. She
couldn’t understand it. How could he switch his feelings on and off like that?
Life at the museum was worse. Her return to work was greeted
with astonishment and she was immediately summoned to HR and advised that she
was on leave until the police investigation was concluded. On Friday, she got
to meet Agent Guinand from Interpol, an intense Parisian investigator who
specialized in international art smuggling. Raoul’s contacts with other museums
were being investigated and the same pattern of theft had been uncovered. It
was going to take months to sort everything out. She felt like a fly caught in
a spider’s web.
Worst of all, her viking was treating her as if she was made
of spun sugar. He slept in her bed, but apart from a few gentle kisses, he hadn’t
touched her at all. It was driving her crazy. There was only one person she
could turn to for love advice.
“I don’t believe it, Sorrenson. I thought you and he were,
you know…”
“Finn, if we were, do you think I’d be having this
conversation with
The interview room at the police station wasn’t like the
ones on TV. It didn’t have two-way mirror or anything fancy like that. The
elderly sergeant produced an ancient tape recorder and he invited Ingrid to
give her name and address before she made her statement. Ingrid had brought her
thesis and photographs of the fake artifacts along with her, but that only
seemed to confuse him.
“So let me get this right, Ms Sorrenson. You believe that
someone has been stealing from the museum, replacing the artifacts with fakes,
and that since you brought your theory to your boss, he hasn’t been seen?”
Ingrid nodded nervously.
“You need to speak into the microphone, dear. Nodding your
head doesn’t work.”
“S-s-sorry,” she stammered. “I mean, yes. Dr. Martin was
very concerned. He said he was going to speak to Mr. Jasson, in case there had
been a mix-up or something…” Oh god that sounded so lame. No wonder they were
looking at her as if she was an idiot.
“I’m just worried about David. I mean Dr. Martin.” Damn. Now
she sounded like a hysterical female who was in love with her boss.
“These are very serious accusations, Ms. Sorrenson. Are you
sure you want to make them?”
Ingrid didn’t hesitate. There was no going back now. “I’m
certain.”
It seemed like forever before her statement was typed up and
brought for her to sign. When she finally left the police station two hours
later, she felt like a limp rag. Strom and Jake were waiting across the street.
“How was it?”
“Awful, they think I’m an idiot.”
Strom put his arm around her. “Hush, let’s get you home.”
More police arrived early the following morning. Not the
kindly sergeant this time, but two sharp-eyed plainclothes detectives. They
were very interested in her story. She wasn’t the only one who had contacted
the police about the Martins the previous night. One of the neighbors had a
spare key for the Martins’ house, and when she let herself in to put away their
mail, she had found David’s body.
Their questions were endless. Could she repeat her story
again? Just how well did she know Dr. Martin? Were they in a relationship?
Where was she every minute of the day for the past week?
Then there was Jake. She had introduced him as her boyfriend
at the museum. Her colleagues had seen them together. David Martin’s secretary
thought they were engaged. Strom raised his eyebrow when he heard that one, but
wisely said nothing. They questioned them together. They questioned them
separately, but it was hours before they were released from the police station.
They hadn’t had much time to concoct a mutual alibi and now the police were
convinced that she was a sex-crazed curator who spent all of her time in bed
with Jake when she wasn’t at work.
Once the police became involved, Strom went back into
mission mode. It was as if their tender interlude had never happened. She
couldn’t understand it. How could he switch his feelings on and off like that?
Life at the museum was worse. Her return to work was greeted
with astonishment and she was immediately summoned to HR and advised that she
was on leave until the police investigation was concluded. On Friday, she got
to meet Agent Guinand from Interpol, an intense Parisian investigator who
specialized in international art smuggling. Raoul’s contacts with other museums
were being investigated and the same pattern of theft had been uncovered. It
was going to take months to sort everything out. She felt like a fly caught in
a spider’s web.
Worst of all, her viking was treating her as if she was made
of spun sugar. He slept in her bed, but apart from a few gentle kisses, he hadn’t
touched her at all. It was driving her crazy. There was only one person she
could turn to for love advice.
“I don’t believe it, Sorrenson. I thought you and he were,
you know…”
“Finn, if we were, do you think I’d be having this
conversation with
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