She turned on her favorite recording of Verdi’s Rigoletto—the one with Caruso—and let “Bella figlia dell’amore” accompany the scent of melting Parmesan. She drank an ample mouthful and then topped off her glass, realizing to her dismay that the bottle was already half-empty. She would probably have to lay off drinking wine on weekdays for a little while, however sad that was. It was so tedious to not drink.

The paper lay open on the dining table, several sections spread out side by side. Esther set down her glass and walked over to take a closer look. Square holes gaped like eyes in the pages, clipped at random without consideration to where the articles started or stopped. The cut squares lay in a neat pile. Esther picked up the top square. It was an ad for sunny vacations in Egypt, clipped right through the middle so the pyramid was cut in half and the headline unintelligible.

A little creature slowly unfurled in her gut. Not only had Gregers had the scissors all along, he had also been using them for something incomprehensible.

The word dementia hit her at the same time as the smell of risotto burning on the stovetop.

CHAPTER 6

“You want to park, and I’ll go order for us?” Jeppe asked.

He got out of the car and left Anette to find a parking space while he headed for Oscar Bar. Yet another Oscar, Jeppe thought as he crossed the cobblestones. The renowned Copenhagen LGBTQ+ bar and café was right next to city hall, a stone’s throw from the old police headquarters, and over the years it had become their haunt for after-work drinks. Neither the relocation of their offices nor a missing boy was going to change that.

Jeppe had forgotten that it was Saturday night until he opened the restaurant door to find loud music and dancing patrons wearing bright colors and tight leather. He took a seat at the bar and ordered two bottles of beer while Donna Summer belted out “Hot Stuff” and the bartender sang along.