The boy blinked a few times and stared at them in shock. Anette pulled out her police badge and showed it to the two young people.

“Put on your clothes. We have a couple of questions for you.”

“What’s the problem?” The girl pulled a dress on over her head.

“Is that your white wooden boat moored at the far end of the harbor?”

The boy responded in the singsong Scanian dialect of Swedish. “My dad’s. We sailed it around from Bäckviken this morning.”

“Bäckviken?”

“Yeah, on the east side of the island. That’s where we live.” He glanced shyly at his girlfriend.

Anette hesitated. The boy was Swedish, lived on Hven, and didn’t look anything like Oscar Dreyer-Hoff. Even so, she pointed at him.

“And you’re sure that that boat didn’t come from Copenhagen? From Søndre Frihavn, for example?”

The boy shook his head fearfully.

“My dad built it himself! You can ask him.”

Mads thwacked Anette on the arm.

“Okay, then. We’re sorry to bother you. You two have a good day!” He started walking back toward the cemetery entrance.

Anette stayed for a moment looking at the teenagers. Then she gave in.

“Yeah, sorry. It was a misunderstanding. Well, goodbye.”

Anette and Mads walked back down the hill in silence. Anette was stung by disappointment. Now that she herself was a parent, it felt as if she bore a certain responsibility for all children’s safety. But apparently she couldn’t help Oscar, couldn’t do a darn thing.

At the foot of the hill she pulled out her phone and called Jeppe.

“Kørner here.”

“It was a bust. The boy was Swedish and just out for a little jaunt with his girlfriend.”

“Damn it!” She could hear him take a drag from his cigarette. “I’m on the dock waiting for Henrik. Are you still on Hven?”

“Heading home now. I just need to find the search and rescue folks… no idea where they went. Where do I meet you?”

“Go home, Anette!” Jeppe said after a pause. “It’ll be four o’clock by the time you get back to the harbor. Spend some time with your family, and we’ll meet tomorrow morning.”

“Okay.” She hung up and looked around the harbor for the search and rescue people.

Mads cleared his throat.

“I can take you back to Copenhagen, if you like? We can call Search and Rescue from the boat.”

“Thank you, that would be great.”

He led the way to the fortress’s tug and cast off. As they sailed out of the harbor, Anette stayed on deck to let the wind blow her thoughts out of her head. Mads stood at the helm in the wheelhouse, a lit cigarette between his lips.

He exhaled smoke and looked at her.

“You want me to just drop you off by the boat dock in Søndre Frihavn?”