Jan had shaken off pretty quickly his misgivings that the boy’s disappearance would set those particular hares running. For good reason, it had turned out, given that the question of the boy’s conception—there was only an outside chance of anyone considering that—hadn’t been touched. There was nothing to worry about; on the contrary, most things were going Jan’s way. Three days had already passed, and it was probably only the boy’s nearest and dearest who hadn’t given up all hope. And as far as Jan was concerned, a dead boy had two good qualities: he didn’t need any child support and he didn’t need a father. Two birds with one stone.

On the other hand, there was something else which had cropped up that—no matter how silly it seemed—concerned him just a little. At least it awakened his curiosity in a not altogether positive way. The ladies at work—who would gossip like mad as soon as they got a chance, usually by the coffee maker—had had a standing topic of conversation as of about a week ago whenever they were in the kitchenette. Since Jan, due to a lack of interest, hadn’t been involved from the beginning, he wasn’t completely up to speed about what was being discussed, but it seemed they all watched the same TV show or something. Jan didn’t waste his time on that kind of thing; he was more interested in news and sports, especially right now, given the football World Cup was on.

They had been yakking on about this for a while, and everyone was super into it: which was most immoral . . . doing this or doing that? Did such and such place really exist? Have we ever heard of anything like that event? Did it work out in the end? Where did he go then? Might it be her, the dark-haired one? Do we know anyone called that—what if it’s him? But was it actually a true story?—no, surely it must just be fiction?

And it had carried on gnawing away like that, every single day. “Ravine” was a frequently reoccurring word, but he hadn’t paid much heed to it. He had also encountered the occasional “drunk driving” and “hit-and-run,” but nothing more than that. When “rape” had become increasingly common in their conversations a few days later, he had begun to wonder what it was that had captured their interest so intensely. But he hadn’t wanted to ask; he had hoped he’d figure it out by himself without anyone discovering that he too had begun to take an interest in this. Whatever it might be. But he hadn’t been able to ascertain what, and soon enough he had become both impatient and a little bit worried.