“I need some air.” Victor stood up, knocking the pizza box off the table. “You can come out in the yard with me if…”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Frida turned to Sara. “He’s only seventeen.”

“It’s fine, Grandma.” Victor opened the glass door to the backyard.

Sara nodded to her reassuringly, and she and Larsen followed Victor outside. Maybe there were things Grandma didn’t need to know.

They walked across the wet lawn to a little gazebo, where Victor slumped down on a built-in bench. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one before putting the pack back in the pocket of his gray sweatpants.

Sara sat down beside him, leaving Larsen to stand in the doorway. Victor smoked intently, until the ash hung from the end of the cigarette in a gravity-defying balancing act.

“If he did anything to my brother…”

Sara looked at the teenage boy’s profile, at his long eyelashes and the sculptured jaw, which clenched every time he inhaled.

“What do you mean, Victor?”

He took another drag, and this time the ash floated down onto the tiled floor of the gazebo.

“A couple of weeks ago I was looking for my little brother at school. I had forgotten my lunch money. They were in the library.”

“Who? Oscar and Mr. Sæther?”

“Yes.” Victor’s dark gaze met hers. “They were standing with their arms around each other.”

CHAPTER 15

The red bricks of the Geological Museum flew past the car window. Anette took a right turn in third gear, and Jeppe had to hold on to the door handle to keep from tipping over into her.

“Malthe’s girlfriend, Josephine, is on her way to Copenhagen,” she said while Jeppe struggled back into his seat. “We can meet with her in an hour.”

“Has the rest of his family been informed?”

“His parents live way up north in Hjørring. They’re divorced, but they live two streets apart in the same neighborhood. Larsen talked to the mother. Nice lady, he said, completely devastated, understandably. The murder is a shock. Malthe was a happy, healthy young man, athletic and idealistic. There have never been any problems with drugs or crime.”

“Are they coming over?”

“That depends on when the body can be released to them. The local police there are taking care of them and will let us know if they learn anything relevant to the case.”

Anette was speeding as usual, pushing the car to the limit and beyond. To Anette a yellow light was merely an invitation. Over time Jeppe had grown used to it.

“Does Kasper Skytte know we’re coming?”

“He didn’t answer when I called.” Jeppe threw his hand up to the dashboard to avoid being flung through the windshield. “But the emergency room said he went home.”

“Well, then we’ll just have to surprise him,” Anette stated, and leaned on the gas pedal.