She doesn’t want to use the map on her phone, but a helpful drunk outside the subway station points her in the right direction of the address after she declines his offer to personally guide her there.

It doesn’t take long to find the right apartment building, and Klara takes out her phone to check the time. Just as she takes note that it’s just a few minutes past six, she hears a voice behind her.

‘Are you waiting for someone?’

25 November

Malmö

George is hunched down next to Jacob. They’re by the harbour now, where the wind is icy. The temperature’s fallen since this morning.

They’ve been walking around Malmö for about an hour since they said goodbye to Klara. George wanted to keep them moving so nobody would have time to figure out who they were.

But why did they go down here to the harbour? Jacob is so cold he’s shaking. When he lifts his eyes, he sees the grey, solid concrete of Öresund Bridge to his left and the dim, ghostly contours of Copenhagen on the horizon, straight ahead.

‘We will go to the police,’ George insists. ‘We have to assume that if we have the plans, the terrorists can’t carry them out. Klara just has to meet Gabi first, and we need to find out what the documents contain before we do anything else. Then we’ll know what this means for you and for her. For all of us.’

He stands up and stretches out a hand to Jacob, pulling him up. ‘Come on,’ he says. ‘We can’t sit here; it’s too cold.’

He turns his wrist and looks at his huge watch. Several times Jacob has thought about asking to look at it, he’s never seen anything more enticing, a concrete symbol of success and competence.

‘Besides, we don’t have long until our train leaves.’

Jacob stands up and they walk in silence, past the newly built apartment buildings with a view of the sea and Copenhagen, past the spacious balconies of the comfortable bourgeoisie with a year’s worth of salary in the bank and excellent credit. Past everything that will be out of reach for him now.

‘I like your watch,’ Jacob says quietly. ‘It’s… serious.’

George looks at him with something like suspicion in his eyes. ‘Did you talk to Klara?’ he asks.

‘About your watch?’ Jacob says.

‘She thinks it’s vulgar. But you know what?’ George turns to Jacob and smiles easily. ‘Maybe it’s okay to be a little vulgar.’

Jacob shakes his head, feeling his panic rise again. They’re in the middle of chaos, and they’re walking around talking about watches.

‘We could get caught anytime,’ he says, his voice hardly more than a whisper. ‘Maybe Klara got caught already.’