“But they didn’t find anything concrete, and the case was closed. My guess is that they simply couldn’t prove it and had to give up. The threatening letters came in the period that followed. A total of nine letters over the course of a year; the last one was received two years ago. They were written on different paper, either by hand or on a computer, but they were all about the family—especially Henrik—being terrible people who deserved to die.”

“So it’s plausible that the scandal triggered the threatening letters. Was the sender ever found?”

“No.” Larsen smiled meaningfully. “The family never surrendered the letters and ended up withdrawing the report.”

The three detectives looked at one another over the cinnamon rolls. When people withdrew reports, it often suggested that they had something to hide.

“Does the letter the family found yesterday look anything like the threatening letters?” Anette asked.

“Not specifically.” Larsen searched for the right words. “In the report the family describes the letters as very direct threats, expressed in blunt language.”

“But they’re still our best bet of finding a possible kidnapper.” Jeppe pointed to Larsen. “Look into the consequences of the auction scandal. Monetary losses, employees who were fired, anything that might have given someone a motive for getting revenge on the family.”

“I’ll get to it.” Larsen put the folder back into his bag with an expression that suggested he might have expected more applause from his audience.

“The parents could easily have taken Oscar somewhere by boat and killed him, maybe by accident.” Anette broke a piece of icing off a cinnamon roll. “A fight that ended badly. A person could easily fall down the embankments at Trekroner Sea Fortress. That happened to a young guy a few years ago, and he died. They could have gotten rid of the body and the boat. Mads Teigen says there are a lot of private boats sailing around in the harbor. It would have been easy to hide among them.”

“That guy, the one who found the kid’s backpack?” Jeppe raised his eyebrows. “Whether we believe the parents’ explanation or not, we have to focus on the threat letters. They could even have come from someone close to the family.”

Anette reached for the bakery box, and Larsen hurriedly closed the lid.

“It’s probably worth questioning the immediate family,” he said, eyeing Anette disapprovingly, “friends, and employees of the company. There could be conflicts we’re not aware of. Henrik’s parents are dead. Malin’s parents live north of Copenhagen, and she has a sister as well. Plus there’s Oscar’s siblings.”

“I’m meeting Henrik in a few—” Jeppe was cut short by a ringtone.

Anette pulled out her phone and looked at the caller ID, then shrugged as if she didn’t recognize the number.

“Werner,” she answered.