Was that where Malthe had ended up? In the line of fire between Henrik Dreyer-Hoff and his child? Could Malthe have confronted Oscar’s father with something that had made him so angry that Malthe had ended up in the garbage dump, strangled and naked?

Jeppe pulled his laptop out of his bag and opened POLSAS, located the report on Lis Christensen’s death, and read it. On Tuesday, April 16, at 4:32 p.m., the Farum train pulled into Nørreport’s underground station on schedule. But just before the train reached the platform, a person fell onto the tracks, and the locomotive driver pulled the brake and hit the alarm. He had been trying to stop a cup of coffee from tipping over and therefore hadn’t witnessed the actual accident itself, just the figure on its way down in front of the train. He couldn’t say whether there had been anyone near the woman before she fell. Several people had been waiting for the train, but they had been standing farther down the platform, most of them with their eyes glued to their phones.

“Oh my God, are you here? I didn’t think anyone was at home.” Johannes’s deep voice broke the silence like a hug, unexpected but comfortable. He tossed his keys onto the counter. “If I’d known you were home, I would have called first. Why aren’t you at Sara’s?”

Jeppe shrugged.

Johannes seemed to understand. At any rate, he didn’t ask further questions.

“I went to the movies and didn’t feel like schlepping all the way back to Snekkersten. Can I crash on the sofa, or would you prefer to be alone?”

“No, it’s nice that you’re here.”

“Cool.” Johannes took off his jacket and tossed it over the back of the chair. “I was actually headed straight for bed. I have to get up early.”

“Why? What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I have a casting call for a movie.”

“Good.” Jeppe smiled. “I was starting to worry that you had completely stalled out.”

“Life goes on. There are limits to how long you can fester over a broken heart. I’ll just go brush my teeth.”

Had Johannes always had that touch of cynicism in him, or had it developed with age? Jeppe couldn’t remember anymore, just like he could no longer remember whether his own heavy heart had ever been light and carefree.

“Johannes,” he called. “Do you remember that one theater class we took? We must have been seventeen or eighteen. There was a girl in our class.”

“Lisa, you mean? Lisa with the long legs?” Johannes emerged from the bathroom in a T-shirt and underwear.

“Yes, exactly! I was so in love with her.”

Johannes spread out the bedding and lay down on the sofa. “Yeah, I know. Everyone knew. Including Lisa.” He pulled the comforter up to his chin.

“What? I didn’t tell a soul, not even you.”