‘It’s possible, but if so, I never heard anything about it. Besides, we weren’t in regular contact or anything. I was actually pretty surprised when she suddenly called. If it weren’t for KGB being so successful, I doubt I would have ever seen her again.’

‘And what about her private life. Husband? Children?’

‘Divorced, but apparently they’re good friends. His name is Jarred Kostas. Brynn has met him and said he was going to try to get hold of him, too,’ Kore informs them.

‘And children . . . ?’

‘I think they have four or five, actually. All adopted from different countries. Jarred and his new girlfriend are looking after them while Luna’s been here. He’s the only person who knows she’s in Doggerland. Officially, she’s attending some kind of retreat in an undisclosed location. Apparently she does things like that from time to time.’

Retreat, Karen sneers inwardly and thinks about dirty glasses and overflowing ashtrays. Well, maybe she woke up and saw the mess and just decided to skip town. She’s probably at a spa in the Alps, sipping wheatgrass martinis.

Then she remembers the clothes and suitcases in the closets.

‘Maybe she just went home,’ she says without conviction. ‘I’ll have to check the flights and ferries tomorrow. But right now there isn’t much else we can do. This is a grown-up we’re talking about, there’s no sign of a crime in the house and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet. If you haven’t heard from her tomorrow, we’ll take it from there.’

‘So we just wait and hope she turns up?’

‘That’s pretty much it, yeah,’ Karen replies.

Except I’m not crossing my fingers, she adds inwardly.

Chapter 4

4

When she recklessly drops into her office chair, it wobbles precariously and she only just manages to grab the edge of the desk before it tips over. It’s half past eight on Monday morning and according to the forecast it’s already twenty-three degrees in Dunker.

‘It looks like another beautiful day with summer temperatures in every part of the country,’ the meteorologist had chirped.

Karen puts her bag down under her desk with a groan.

‘What’s with you? Did you run here all the way from Langevik?’

Karl Björken has appeared behind her and is now studying her flushed cheeks over the edge of his coffee cup.

‘I took the stairs,’ she replies darkly. ‘Not usually a problem, but apparently I’m really out of shape.’

‘Well, we have moved up a couple of floors,’ Karl replies jovially, and she gratefully accepts the excuse.

Five flights of stairs in what had felt like a sauna.

‘I have the JRFT on Friday,’ she says, ‘and I’m pretty sure I’m in for a stern talking-to.’