He looked her right in the eye without blinking, his gaze the color of the ocean with little flecks of green.

Why am I noticing that? she wondered, and looked away.

“So you actually live at Trekroner Sea Fortress?”

“Yup, alone on a deserted island, the harbor’s own Robinson Crusoe, that’s me.” He smiled shyly, like he had said something presumptuous that he now regretted.

Anette squatted down to touch one of the blue mooring lines lying on the dock next to an empty slip. It was warm and dry in the sun. She peered out over the water.

“If you have a slip here, can you see if any of the regular boats are missing?”

He shook his head apologetically.

“As you can see,” he said, “there are a lot of empty slips. Some of them are out sailing, others haven’t been put back into the water yet after the winter. It’s not the kind of thing you can keep track of.”

“Okay.” She got back up. “Have you seen anyone sailing around the fortress with a teenage boy? Or anywhere else in the harbor in the last twenty-four hours?”

“I see a lot of young people. It’s getting popular, boating in the harbor, drinking and partying. Really dangerous if you ask me, but, no, I haven’t seen anything that looked suspicious.” He squinted up at the sun. “So you guys have no idea where he could be, the missing boy?”

“Why, do you have any information you’d like to share?”

“No, no. If I did, I would have told you, of course. I was just… curious.”

Anette got out one of her business cards and handed it to him.

“If you see him or happen to think of anything that might help with the investigation, please let us know.”

He took her card and studied it carefully, as if it might tell him something about her that he wanted to know.

Anette studied his broad fingers holding the agency’s white card stock and felt an impulse to reach out and touch him, but at the same time an urge to run away.

“As I said, call if you see anything!”

She turned around and walked back to Jeppe, suddenly eager to get home to Svend and Gudrun, home to hugs and pasta and snuggling on the sofa in front of the TV.

“Had he seen anything?” Jeppe asked, starting to walk up the ramp.

“No. He just happened upon the backpack.”

“And we’re sure he didn’t plant it himself?” Jeppe asked, looking back over his shoulder.

“What are you talking about?” Anette frowned. “Why would he plant Oscar’s backpack and then call the police? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

Anette shook her head behind her partner’s back.