“That’s Henrik’s former employer. He acts as the agent between the vendor and the power plant and earns a commission on the sale. There’s nothing really underhanded about it. The problem is that the sale doesn’t appear to have taken place.”

“How do you know that?” Jeppe asked.

“Well, it did require some legwork and a few calls to their accounting department. In German, no less! Mirnhof and Schalcke don’t know anything about that order. It doesn’t exist in their system. But Henrik was still paid the commission.”

Larsen’s phone blinked. He quickly typed something and put it away again.

“Sorry,” he said. “Mette just wants to know if I remembered the baby carrier. What do you think?”

“About the baby carrier?”

“Come on, Kørner!”

Jeppe put his hands to his head and said, “What in the hot hollows of hell does this have to do with Malthe Sæther?”

“Possibly blackmail?” Larsen said, pursing his lips. “Malthe discovers Henrik’s scam, threatens to expose him if he doesn’t pay Malthe off, and Henrik ends up murdering him.”

“That’s a stretch! Everyone describes Malthe as an idealistic young man.” Jeppe got up again and walked back to the window that couldn’t be opened and the air that couldn’t be breathed.

“We’ll never get Henrik to talk to us about this. Who at ARC could have ordered the equipment?”

“The plant is closed for today,” Larsen muttered, “so we won’t be able to call and ask until tomorrow. But the secretary of the Danish Waste Association has been very helpful, sharing good advice and contacts. I’ll just give her a try.”

“What, now?” Jeppe looked at his watch. It was almost eight o’clock.

“I have her cell number.”

Larsen called and introduced himself using only his first name. Judging from the tone of his voice, Jeppe got a clear sense of why the secretary had given him her private phone number. Larsen could be quite charming when he wanted to. He chatted with her briefly, thanked her, and said a heartfelt goodbye.

“Well, that’s interesting. According to her, technical equipment orders for treatment plants typically come directly from the process engineers.”

“Kasper Skytte?!” Jeppe turned to look at Larsen.

“Looks like it. Skytte and his team.”

They looked at each other.

“Let’s visit Skytte at the plant first thing tomorrow morning and ask him if he’s familiar with this order. I’ll write and let them know we’re coming. But for now, let’s call it a day and go home.” Jeppe grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. It wasn’t until he closed the office door that it hit him that home was no longer where it used to be.