The Weeping Girl ivv-8 Page 30

  As she was walking through the town she tried to think about Intendent deBries: but it hadn’t become any easier to conjure up some sort of retroactive image of him after the conversation with Munster and Van Veeteren. More difficult, in fact. But even so, there was one question she couldn’t avoid. Would she always remember him as the child-molester? Was this destined to be his epitaph? Would she ever be able to see any other sides of his character?

  She hadn’t known him all that long, but she had respected him as a colleague. As they say. As a competent and efficient police officer. Surely she had? Did that sort of judgement really have to be tainted by this other business? Would the passage of time ever be able to make it possible to plead extenuating circumstances to counterbalance the condemnation she was feeling just now? She didn’t know.

  And what about Arnold Maager? it suddenly struck her. She had never met him, only seen a photograph of him. What did she feel when she tried to conjure up an image of him?

  It was the same as with deBries, she concluded. Difficult to feel any kind of sympathy or understanding. One might feel sorry for them — Maager’s punishment was out of all proportion to his crime: but these men, both deBries and Maager, should surely have understood that there was a cause-and-effect chain? That what they did would sooner or later have consequences.

  Always. Somehow or other.

  Or am I judging them too harshly? she wondered. Is this just the bitchiness inside me that I’m trying to elevate into some kind of morality?

  What the hell! she allowed herself to mutter. There was no doubt a big difference between the sixteen-year-old in Lejnice and the eleven-year-old (or however old the girl actually was) in Phuket; but even so, she could understand those who maintained that male sexuality was the devil’s contribution to the Universal Plan. But that’s life.

  As far as deBries was concerned, she was grateful that she wasn’t the only one in possession of all the details. Good that Munster knew all about it as well — no doubt there would be an opportunity to discuss matters further with him, once it became clear what the fall-out was. Perhaps also with the Chief Inspector.

  But then she remembered something Reinhart had once said.

  A human being is an animal with a very dirty soul — but an amazing ability to wash it.

  As she passed the Keymer church the clock struck a quarter to ten. She registered that she had one whole day left of her leave. Great.

  On Monday, it was back to routine. Great.

  FB2 document info

  Document ID: fbd-5a3e57-7006-6149-2180-fa6b-91a7-b9aa3e

  Document version: 1

  Document creation date: 20.06.2013

  Created using: calibre 0.9.35, Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software

  Document authors :

  Hakan Nesser

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