“I actually did find something that strikes me as a little odd. I don’t know if it’s related to Malthe’s death, but there’s a funny coincidence between the discovery site and Henrik Dreyer-Hoff.”

“Well, let’s hear it, then!”

Larsen raised his eyebrows to signal his feelings about Jeppe’s tone of voice.

“Yes, okay then, as you know I’m looking into the Dreyer-Hoff family’s auction house and its fraud scandal. Henrik is an entrepreneur. He sits on corporate boards, does lobbying work, and that sort of thing. But do you remember me saying that he came from a completely different sector when he and Malin decided to open the auction house around six years ago?” Larsen paused for dramatic effect.

Jeppe sighed and asked exasperatedly, “And…? What, do you want us to guess?”

“I guess not. At first I thought it was an electric company, but as it turns out Henrik was sales manager for the German company Mirnhof and Schalcke. It’s a global supplier of industrial process technology–measuring instruments. Its clients include power generating facilities. In that capacity he acted both as part of a collaborative forum and as a personal adviser to the chairwoman of the Danish Waste Association, a political interest association. Her name is Margit Smith.”

Jeppe went back to his desk and sat down, rubbed his chin, and was reminded that his shaving gear was at Sara’s place.

“Get to the point, Larsen,” Jeppe said. “What are we supposed to do with this information?”

“Margit Smith isn’t the chairwoman of the interest association anymore. Six months ago she was named CEO of the Amager incineration plant, better known as ARC.”

“What does that mean?” Jeppe sat up straight.

“That means that Henrik is close to, possibly even friends with, the CEO of the incineration plant where Malthe Sæther’s body was found.”

“According to Malin,” Jeppe said, glancing down at his dust-free desk, “she and Henrik were home with their daughter the whole night on Friday. He has an alibi for the time of the crime.”

“When Saidani and I visited the grandmother, Essie said that her dad was at work Friday night,” Larsen protested.

“She did?” Jeppe asked. “Werner, you want to go for a ride? We need to ask Henrik where he really was Friday night.”

There was a brief knock on the door, and PC stuck her head in with a polite wave to apologize for the interruption. She craned her neck in a way that made Jeppe think of a cartoon turkey.

“Saidani says hi. She won’t be in today, sick kid, but she promises to submit anything she finds on Malthe Sæther’s computer in an online report later today.”