This time, the door to the building wasn’t properly closed, so he could walk right in and climb the stairs to her front door, where his key slid into the lock as if into a willing virgin. Two silent seconds later, he was standing in her hallway, breathing in the air.

It smelled of clothes that hadn’t dried completely and of frying grease. This was exactly what he’d pictured and how he’d hoped she lived. In misery.

But it didn’t look like he remembered. Or did it? Hadn’t she had a number of framed Louisiana posters in the hallway? Now it was hung with pictures of the Great Wall of China, elephants and various temples at sunset. It was unbearably tacky; a red Chinese lamp with tassels and things hung over the kitchen table, which was covered in a red elephant-print oilcloth.

‘What the fuck are you doing in here?’

The words came from a short, slightly pudgy Chinese man with a squeaky voice and wild hair.

‘Good day, my name is Kim Sleizner.’ He walked up to greet him, even though he could still hear the toilet flushing in the bathroom and was well aware that hygiene was not a priority for Chinese people.

‘I don’t care what your name is, Kim Sleizner or Kim fucking Sleizner.’ The Chinese man waved his index finger in the air. ‘I want to know what the hell you’re doing in my flat.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m an old friend of Dunja’s.’ Sleizner tried hard not to laugh. ‘I was just in the neighbourhood.’

‘Hm, interesting.’ The Chinese man stroked his little goatee and nodded in an over-the-top display of thoughtfulness. ‘Then maybe Kim fucking Sleizner can tell me how it is that you “happen” to wander straight into my flat?’ He crossed his arms and fixed Sleizner, who gave him one of his patented smiles in return.

‘I apologize, it wasn’t my intention to intrude. The thing is that my very good friend Dunja Hougaard used to live here, at least until about a month ago. And since she’s trusted me with her keys—’ He waved the keys around. ‘—and no one opened when I rang the door, I just wanted to make sure everything was—’

‘Rang the door. How odd. I certainly didn’t hear it ring.’

‘Maybe I accidentally hit the light button.’ Sleizner shrugged and could feel his patience hanging by a fragile thread. ‘But let’s get to my reason for stopping by. You wouldn’t happen to know where Dunja is, would you?’

‘And why would I know that, when I don’t even know who she is? That’s like asking an elephant if it can fly to the moon.’

‘But you do have her name on your door, so you must know something.’