‘Ask them if they recognise anything in the room,’ she’d told him. ‘Anything – the table, the wallpaper, the curtains. And call me right away if you think of anything.’

‘I’ll stay at their house until you need a ride back home,’ Leo had replied.

She had laughed mirthlessly.

‘Then you’ll be staying there a good long while. It’ll be hours before I can go home. Days, maybe,’ she’d added, momentarily dismayed at the thought of the cot in the windowless breakroom at work.

And just as she had opened the door to climb out of the car, he had grabbed her hand.

‘Be careful, Karen,’ he’d said. ‘Promise me.’

*

Jounas Smeed wastes no time on greetings.

‘We have Loots and two cars heading down to Frisel, and another unit en route to this bloke’s flat, where they will meet up with Johannisen. Astrid Nielsen is on her way here and Sören Larsen should be joining us any minute, too. I haven’t managed to reach Sara Inguldsen yet, but I’ve left a message and texted.’

‘Good,’ Karen says and takes off her jacket.

‘It’s almost ten now and it looks like we’re going to be stuck here all night. I guess we should try to get some food in . . .’

He lets the sentence hang in the air as if to signal that the responsibility for the food issue has now been delegated to someone else, though it’s unclear to whom.

‘Well, the coffee’s brewing, anyway,’ Karl says, having just returned from the kitchenette. ‘Not sure how I’m supposed to get a large-scale operation going, though. Maybe some things were better in the good old days, after all,’ he adds with a wry look at Karen.

She makes a face at him. This is not the time to antagonise Smeed by reminding him of the failures of last autumn. Specifically, Karen’s reckless decision to purchase an outrageously expensive coffee maker when she subbed for him as interim head of department.

But Smeed seems oblivious. He strides over towards the largest conference room. They certainly won’t be needing all eighteen seats tonight, but it’s less stuffy than the smaller rooms.

‘I briefed Loots and Johannisen as best I could,’ he says once they’re all seated. ‘You’ll have to fill us all in on the finer details once everyone gets here.’

‘Yes, I think we should spend a few minutes getting the group up to speed before we look at the pictures. But while we wait, we could—’

Just then, they hear voices from the other side of the door. Then it opens and Astrid Nielsen enters with Sören Larsen on her heels.

They greet each other with silent nods, no smiles.