Within four minutes of the picture of suspected rapist Gundar Freske being published on the evening papers’ websites, they’d had their first call. But that particular tip had gone straight in the bin; the caller was a regular, who for some reason felt it was his duty to assist the police with all kinds of observations, whether or not a crime had been committed.

‘Aside from the usual tinfoil hats, there are a handful we can’t dismiss out of hand. Unfortunately, most of them contradict each other, and I’m not sure I know how to determine which ones are worth following up on.’

‘All of them, probably,’ Smeed says. ‘All right, let’s have it.’

‘A seventy-two-year-old man saw Freske outside Vidkung Upper Secondary. Apparently, he was sitting on a bench, watching a group of girls playing rounders in the schoolyard. But once the officers got there, he was gone, of course.’

Astrid clears her throat and goes on to tell him about the woman who had seen Freske drive onto the Noorö ferry in Thorsvik, the pizzeria owner in Lemdal who was sure he’d served Freske a capricciosa and a Carlsberg Hof around six. About the guy who claimed to have seen Freske go into a petrol station north of Dunker at around half past six, leaving his engine running while he bought a baseball cap and a pair of reading glasses. And then, somewhat reluctantly, about the couple who had ‘happened to be in the neighbourhood’ of the villa where Luna had been staying and had seen someone who absolutely couldn’t be anyone but Gundar Freske by the police cordon.

‘Well, once you let your imagination run wild, it’s hard to keep the two cases apart,’ Karl Björken chortles. ‘I’m starting to find it difficult myself.’

Astrid Nielsen has reached the end of her list. A handful of tips, that’s all. Other, considerably more exciting things are clearly occupying the public’s attention on this May evening.

‘Fine, we’ll have to look into all of that, except the idiots down on Frisel,’ Jounas Smeed announces. Some of the smugness has already drained out of his voice.

What’s left of it vanishes completely just a few minutes later. More specifically when the Head of Forensics, Sören Larsen, enters the conference room with the words:

‘We’ve recovered Freske’s search history. You’re not going to like it.’

Straight backs. Even Evald Johannisen pulls himself out of his half-reclining position, leans forward and puts his elbows on the table while Larsen logs in and connects to the big screen.

‘What?’ Smeed demands impatiently, as Sören Larsen clicks between files.

‘Freske has, as recently as today around lunchtime, run these searches,’ he says and opens a slide.

That’s all they have time to see before Sören clicks to a slide they can parse.

Finder.dg Karen Eiken Hornby

Google maps Langevik (map and satellite view)