He started the car and continued south, past Bruchsal and Bretten, through Pforzheim and farther south on the winding country roads. Along green fields and drab industrial areas, over rivers and past stucco churches with tall spires and patches of luminous beech forest. Every five miles he took a swig from the bottle. By the time he reached the Swiss border, he was totally calm. He turned on his radio and let generic pop music fill the car.

He would get the money and fly to South Africa as planned, find a nice hotel in Cape Town, and persuade Iben to come join him. Once she had calmed down, she would come to her senses. He was sure of it.

He didn’t see the bird until it was too late.

There was a loud bang. The windshield shattered.

Kasper slammed on the brakes and slid across the roadway, blinded and in shock. He screamed as the car jerked, slamming him into the steering wheel.

He was breathing hard. There was blood on the shattered windshield, and the radio was still blaring music at him, the noise unbearable. He turned it off, then reached up to touch his face, feeling with his fingers if it was intact. It left his hands bloody. They were shaking so hard it took forever to unbuckle his seat belt and get out of the car.

The roadway was deserted. He straightened up, feeling the shock seep into the ground beneath him until his knees gave way. Skid marks painted black streaks across the asphalt to the tree that had ultimately stopped the car. Steam was hissing from the hood, but apart from that it was quiet among the trees.

The bird lay on the road, looking like a boneless pillow of feathers and guts. Kasper walked over and squatted down. There was a worm caught in its yellow beak, still writhing and trying to escape. The bird itself was done trying to escape.

He watched the worm’s agony. On the asphalt below his face a little pool of blood and tears slowly formed.

CHAPTER 32

When Jeppe walked into the Nordhjem auction house a woman wearing an elegant linen suit and chunky glasses looked up from the meeting she was conducting on the pink sofa set.

“I’m sorry, are you hear to pick up the packages? They’re waiting down in the courtyard.…” She nodded apologetically to the others attending the meeting and got up to speak to him.

Jeppe showed her his laminated ID badge.

“I need to speak with Henrik Dreyer-Hoff.”

“Unfortunately he’s not in.” When Jeppe continued to stand there, she continued. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No.”

She was about to protest, but something about the look in his eye seemed to convince her otherwise.

“Wait here!”