The Dinosaur Feather

Chapter 11

Anna knew perfectly well she hadn’t bumped into the World’s Most Irritating Detective in the supermarket by accident. She had spotted him outside the entrance to Johannes’s stairwell, been aware he had run after her, and had seen him throw up his hands in frustration when the bus pulled out. How he had ended up in her living room doing a jigsaw puzzle with Lily while she was cooking dinner was beyond her. When the potatoes had boiled, she mashed them with angry movements and slammed the plates down on the kitchen table. She hated him! Since he had entered her life, less than a week ago, everything had started to unravel. How dare he buy a loaf of bread for Maggie; how dare he carry her daughter? She wanted him to leave her alone, and she didn’t want to hear what he had come to say. Johannes must not be dead. Tears started rolling down her cheeks. The steamy mashed potatoes were in a bowl in the sink, and suddenly she slumped forward as if she had been stabbed.

When she had composed herself, she fetched Lily from the living room.

“Dinner’s ready, Lily,” she said and shot the World’s Most Irritating Detective a look of disapproval. If he thought she would invite him to eat with them, he could think again. Once he was off duty, he would undoubtedly go home to his trophy wife with her shiny white teeth and her golden skin, and they would cuddle up on their designer sofa and he would think how lucky he was with his Pernille or his Sanne or whatever her name was, everything so picture perfect. But now, while he was still on duty, he was playing at being a social Robin Hood, watching her, poor struggling Anna, with his dark brown eyes and his healthy freckles; he might at least have the decency to leave his freckles in his locker when he arrived for work in the morning; his farm-boy freckles were an insult to criminals everywhere and to Anna in particular. How she hated him!

Later, when Lily had fallen asleep, she went to the living room and found the World’s Most Irritating Detective in a chair by the window. He was looking down at the street.

“It’s very cold and dark outside,” he remarked.

“Really!”

The World’s Most Irritating Detective slowly turned his head and looked at Anna, who had sat down on the sofa, as far away from him as possible.

“Why are you so angry?” he asked.

Anna scowled at him. The scent of Lily still lingered on her clothes; putting her to bed had been a struggle and when she had finally nodded off, Anna had sat on the floor watching her. Eventually, she had got up and left the bedroom, suddenly pleased Søren was there, glad she wasn’t alone.

“I’m so angry I could kill someone,” she hissed, and looked first at her hands and then at him. Søren leaned forward and looked compassionately at her.

“Johannes is dead. But I imagine you’ve already figured that out. He was murdered.”

Anna stared at him blankly.

“Anna, did you kill him?” Søren said gravely.

“Yes, of course I did. Heaven forbid I should have a single friend left in the world,” she said, sounding forlorn.

“Is that a no?” he asked.

“Yes. That’s a no.” The tears started falling and she wiped them away with an irritated movement.

“What happened?” she asked. “Who did it?”

Søren shook his head as though he was deliberating what he could or couldn’t tell her, but in the end he seemed to reach a decision. Even sitting here, off duty, in the living room of a potential suspect was compromising, Anna thought, so he might as well go the whole hog.

“I don’t know,” he said. “He was killed in his apartment. That much I do know. He’s been dead about twenty-four hours, and…”

Anna’s eyes widened.

“That can’t be right,” she exclaimed, triumphantly, as if it meant Johannes couldn’t be dead after all. “I got a text message from him this morning.” She fetched her bag. “See for yourself,” she said, tossing her cell to Søren with the text message open. He studied the message for a long time and scrolled down, she noticed, probably to check the date and time the message had been received.

“What does it mean?” Anna asked.

Søren said nothing, nor did he look at her. Instead he stared into space and seemed to be pondering something. When he finally became aware of her, his eyes were somber.

“The text message is from Johannes’s killer.”

Anna was mystified.

“We haven’t been able to locate Johannes’s cell phone,” Søren continued. “It’s likely the killer took it and, to buy himself time, he probably replied to your message and any others, so no one would get suspicious.” He looked at Anna.

“Johannes was killed by repeated blows to the back of his head. It was messy, blood everywhere,” he went on, observing her closely. He noticed when she moved her foot and when she cleared her throat, his face contracted imperceptibly. It was eerie, and suddenly Anna felt scared.

“This is completely illegal, isn’t it?” she demanded. “Aren’t you being totally unprofessional? Waiting for me in the supermarket, pretending to be shopping when really you were following me? That’s harassment.”

Søren got up and sat down on the sofa next to Anna.

“Hey,” she growled and tried to get up, but Søren grabbed hold of her and pulled her back down.

He held her by the shoulders and hissed, “I’ve had enough of you, Anna Bella.” His grip was vice-like. “I’ve had enough of you refusing to cooperate. I’ve been a police officer for many years, and I’ve never had a case as impenetrable as this, and the last thing I need is a stubborn suspect who, for reasons utterly beyond my comprehension, acts as if the police in general and me in particular were put on this earth to annoy her. I can see it’s not easy for you, Anna. I really can. A young child, a demanding dissertation, and now two sudden deaths. I can understand you’re scared and angry and beside yourself. But I don’t understand why you’re angry with me. I’m your only friend in this whole crappy business.” He let go of her.

Anna yelled, “You’ve bruised me. Are you out of your mind? You can’t manhandle me, you unprofessional shit.”

Søren got up and went to the window.

“Then make a formal complaint, Anna. Go to the station tomorrow and do it. You’ve been uncooperative, and you’re technically still a suspect. Did you kill Professor Helland? Is that what you do when you get angry? Do you get so mad that you kill? And what about Johannes? Did you get angry with him, too? Did he tell you a few hard truths and you went berserk? Was that what happened? And what about Lily? Judging by your behavior, I ought to have her taken to child protective services. You’re mentally unstable, anyone can see that, and it might be better for your daughter to grow up away from you. So, go ahead, Anna Bella. You file that complaint.” Søren looked calmly at her while he spoke, and when he had finished, he turned again to the window.

Anna’s heart was racing and she gasped for breath. Søren had said terrible things, he suspected her, he had found her Achilles’ heel, but to hell with it. She couldn’t imagine life without Lily. Søren stared into the darkness. Anna noticed his right hand was shaking.

“I’ll help,” she croaked. “I promise to help you.”

Søren turned around slowly and looked at her for a long time, then he nodded.

“Some woman was in love with Johannes, and she… bothered him,” she said. “A woman he had met at this club he goes to… the Red Mask.”

“A woman?” Søren raised his eyebrows and looked at Anna.

“I’m not sure… I assumed it was a woman. I thought that’s what he said. Someone he got along with, but he wasn’t in love with her, and I think she freaked out because she was in love with him.” Anna squirmed as she realized how little attention she had paid. “He told me last Monday, but I was too preoccupied with my own problems,” she added, miserably. “But there was someone who wouldn’t leave him alone, who kept calling and…”

“We’ve found some e-mails on Johannes’s computer,” Søren said, looking pensive. “They were sent from an account in the name of Donald Duck and the sender calls himself YourGuy, so we think it might be a man. Ring any bells?”

Anna shook her head and stared out of the window.

“It just seems… so extreme to kill Johannes,” she said. “He’s the nicest person in the world! He never argues with anybody. That’s what makes him so irritating,” she added. “Johannes sees the good in everyone.” She froze, realizing she had used the present tense.

“Johannes had falling out with Professor Helland,” Søren protested.

“No, definitely not. Helland and Johannes were friends. Johannes got really uptight if I ever dared criticize Helland even a little.” Anna replied as though Søren’s statement had been a question.

“Anna, I’m telling you Helland and Johannes had clashed. We have it in writing, a long e-mail exchange that began before the summer and was still ongoing. Helland wasn’t pulling his weight regarding a paper they were meant to cowrite. Johannes appears to have been dissatisfied with Helland’s contribution and upset that Helland was making so little effort. Did Johannes ever mention this?”

Anna looked wretchedly at Søren. “No,” she whispered.

“And you never noticed his relationship with Professor Helland was strained?”

“No.” She jerked her head and stared at Søren. “You’re not insinuating Johannes killed Helland, are you? That’s outrageous. Johannes is the sweetest man I know, he would never…” She clutched her forehead.

“Anna,” Søren assured her. “I’m not insinuating anything. I’m just trying to make sense of it. That’s all. Why do you think Johannes never told you anything?”

“Because I’m utterly self-centered,” Anna said in a chastened voice.

“Pardon?” Søren said.

“Nothing,” Anna replied.

Lily appeared in the doorway, dangling Bloppen in one hand.

“I can’t sleep,” she said, drowsily. “Bloppen is being noisy.”

The World’s Most Irritating Detective sat down and looked at Lily. Now alert, she glanced from her mother to Søren.

“Darling, you need to go back to bed,” Anna said, wearily.

“Bloppen is jumping up and down in my bed,” Lily complained.

“It’s late, darling,” Anna pleaded and got up.

“But Bloppen is reading my books,” Lily persisted. “While he sings.”

“No wonder you can’t get to sleep,” Søren said. Anna wanted to explode. Pig! How dare you talk to my daughter when you’ve just threatened to take her away from me? Søren looked at Lily.

“He makes so much noise,” Lily said, shy, but pleased to have an audience.

“Why do you think he makes a noise when you’re trying to sleep? That’s not a nice thing to do.”

“Bloppen teases me,” Lily complained.

She toddled further into the living room, past Anna as if she didn’t exist, and up to Søren where she stopped in front of his legs. She reached almost up to his chest and her nightgown touched the floor. She dumped the naughty toy dog on Søren’s lap.

“Shall we ask him why he’s so noisy?” Søren suggested.

Lily nodded.

“I’m a police officer,” Søren said, conspiratorially. “It’s better if I ask the questions, isn’t it? Then Bloppen might think you’ve called the police because he was noisy.”

Lily thought that was an excellent idea.

Søren picked up Bloppen, narrowed one eye and looked at him sharply. “Bloppen,” he said. “Why are you noisy, why do you read Lily’s books, sing, and jump in her bed so she can’t sleep?”

Lily stared at Bloppen, she was mesmerized. Søren barked like a dog.

“Oh, no,” he said. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what he’s saying.”

Lily looked terribly disappointed.

“However, I believe you speak dog language. I think your mom told me.”

Lily turned to Anna, beamed, and looked back at Søren again.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Bloppen says he’s only teasing me because he feels sad.”

“What’s he sad about?” Søren asked.

Lily asked Bloppen very earnestly and listened carefully when he barked his answers.

“He’s sad because someone’s teasing his mom. Teasing her a lot. And now she’s not happy anymore.”

Søren looked at Lily for a long time before he said: “Shall we agree I’ll catch the people who have been teasing Bloppen’s mom, so Bloppen will be happy again and you can get some sleep?”

Lily nodded.

“Shake on it,” he said, offering her his shovel-size hand. Lily gave him her small pink hand. “I’ll tell Bloppen and you as soon as I’ve caught them, promise.”

Lily nodded, satisfied. Then, somewhat at a loss, she turned to Anna, who said, “Come on, darling. I’ll take you back to bed.”

“No, I want him to do it,” Lily said, pointing at Søren.

“No, Lily.”

“Yes,” she said, pouting. “I want him!”

Søren rose and sent Anna a placatory glance. Then he took Lily’s hand and off they went.

Then something happened that had never happened before. Lily let go of Søren’s hand, went back to Anna and kissed her. A small, dry kiss on the cheek.

“You love me, Mom,” she said.

Ten minutes later Søren returned. Anna sat on the sofa, still dazed. Søren took the chair from the window, placed it with its back facing Anna, and sat down astride it.

“Anna,” he began. “Three and a half days have passed since Lars Helland was found dead, and all I know is how he died; apart from that I’ve got nothing. Today we found Johannes’s body and, again, I’ve got nothing.”

“Do you think I did it?” Anna breathed.

Søren looked at her for a long time.

“Right now I can’t eliminate anyone. But if you ask me, off the record, now that I’ve carried your shopping home and put your daughter to bed, I’m pretty sure you have nothing to do with Helland’s or Johannes’s death. But I have to get to the bottom of this, and I need your help.”

“How?” Anna suddenly detected a flicker of growing interest.

“Number one, stop being so hostile,” he said. Anna looked down. “Do you think you can do that?”

“Suppose so,” she mumbled.

“Number two, keep your eyes and ears open around the institute and report back to me. Your world is uncharted waters to me, and I’m ashamed to admit I’m having problems navigating it. Everyone’s cooperating, answering the nice policeman’s questions, but I get nowhere. You can help me because you speak their language, you understand their rivalries, you can see through them—I hope. Or better than I can,” he added. “Help me find Dr. Tybjerg, for example. I think he’s hiding, but why? Help me understand Johannes. You were his friend. You must know what he was like. Are you sure he wasn’t gay? Was he seeing someone? Can you think of anything that might help the investigation? Did he ever mention anyone who might have reason to dislike him? Everything, Anna. I need help with everything!”

Anna studied him as he spoke. “But what if I did it?” she asked.

“Then I’ll arrest you, take you down to the station, have you put before a judge, and request you be remanded in custody; you risk a lengthy custodial sentence. But I don’t think you killed Helland or Johannes.”

“Why not?”

“Because you have too much to lose.”

They sat for a while.

“Mrs. Snedker said Lily doesn’t have a father,” Søren remarked.

“None of your business.”

Søren raised his hand as if to deflect a ball.

“Be nice,” he warned her.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Though you’re right, it’s none of my business. I’m just curious.”

“Lily has a father. His name’s Thomas and he lives in Stockholm. He’s a doctor. He opted out.” Anna shrugged and looked around the room. “Out of all of it. Lily, the responsibility, and a girlfriend who turned out to be unlovable. Who wants to be stuck with a worthless shit like me?” she said harshly and glared at Søren. “He says he left me, not our child,” she muttered. “That’s what he says. But we haven’t seen him for two years. Satisfied?”

Søren nodded and got ready to leave.

“I want you to come to the station tomorrow and make a statement.”

Anna was surprised.

“My hunch isn’t enough. I need to interview you, as I would any other witness. When can you get there?”

“Tomorrow’s not good for me,” Anna squirmed. “I’m going to Odense.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.” Anna looked defiantly at Søren.

“What are you doing in Odense?” he asked, irritably.

Anna twirled a box of matches between her fingers.

“There’s something I need to find out. I’m going with Lily. It’s a long story,” she added and sighed when she saw the way Søren was looking at her. “Okay,” she explained. “I’ve discovered that my parents have been lying to me. On top of everything else.” She threw up her hands in despair. “They’re lying, and I don’t know why.”

“Sorry, but you’ll have to cancel,” Søren insisted.

Anna rose and looked resolutely at him. “I’ll take Lily to nursery school tomorrow morning, then I’ll come to the station to be interviewed.” She weighed her words. “Ten o’clock. I’ll be at your disposal until one o’clock. Then I’ll pick up Lily and go to Odense. I have to go. I’ll be back tomorrow night, and if you’re going to Helland’s funeral on Saturday you’ll see me there.” She closed her eyes. Johannes was dead. “Christ, Johannes.” Her face crumpled. “It makes no sense at all.”

Søren watched her in silence, then he said: “Okay. I’ll let you go to Odense between one and midnight tomorrow. But you promise not to hurt anyone or make a run for it.”

“This isn’t a joke,” Anna objected weakly.

“No,” Søren emphasized. “It isn’t. And I want you to start taking this seriously. Do you hear? Do you know where Dr. Tybjerg is?” His question came out of the blue.

Anna’s eyes flickered. If she told him where Dr. Tybjerg was, the police would pick him up immediately and her dissertation defense would be canceled.

“No,” she lied.

Søren locked eyes with her. “Okay,” he said and went on, “Is there anything at all you want to tell me now?”

Anna looked at him for a long time. “I know what killed Professor Helland. I know about the parasites.”

Søren groaned. “How?”

“The rumor’s all over the Institute of Biology,” she sent him a knowing look, “and from Professor Moritzen. She called me into her office, told me you had visited her in her cottage and why. She wants me to contact her if I hear any suggestions the parasites might have come from her department. Though I can’t imagine how anyone could know. It’s not as if the little bastards are ringed. But if you can determine their origins, or whatever, and trace them back to her stock, then she wants to know.”

“Why?” Søren asked.

“They’re closing Parasitology. Hanne has three years to complete her research, then her department will be dismantled. However, she’s convinced that the Faculty Council would love to get rid of her before her three years are up, given half a chance. They would need a reason to dismiss her, and if it turns out the parasites came from her department, if she has so little control of her stock that parasites ended up in her colleagues’ tissue, they can fire her on the spot. Obviously, she wants to be prepared and doesn’t want to go down without a fight.

“And I’m sure Mrs. Helland is lying.” Anna fed the shark, hoping he would forget all about Tybjerg.

“What makes you think so?” Søren was fascinated.

“She claims Professor Helland was fit and healthy. There were no limits to his vigor and vitality, according to his wife and that’s bullshit. I saw him, I know he was sick as a dog.” Anna told Søren about the incident in the parking lot, suddenly embarrassed that she hadn’t mentioned it earlier. “He scared the living daylights out of me, and he was clearly seriously ill,” she concluded.

“When did you speak to Mrs. Helland?” Søren asked.

“I visited her today,” Anna admitted. “I got this.” She lifted the pendant free from her blouse and looked shyly at Søren. “Helland must have had it made for me. My graduation present. Mrs. Helland wanted to give it to me before the funeral.”

Søren was deep in thought.

“She’s lying,” Anna repeated.

“Anything else?” Søren asked, scrutinizing Anna. She had never felt so cooperative in all her life.

“I think Professor Freeman is in Denmark.”

Søren nodded slowly. He already knew that.

“How do you know?” he said.

Crap. She had this information from Dr. Tybjerg. She decided to lie.

“There’s a bird symposium at the Bella Centre,” she said. “I saw his name in the program.”

Søren bought it.

“Any chance Dr. Tybjerg’s disappearance is linked to Freeman’s arrival?” Søren suggested.

“No, how could it be?” Anna said, innocently.

“Anna,” Søren said earnestly. “I need to be clear about this. In your opinion, could Helland’s and Johannes’s deaths be linked to your dissertation? Your topic is a scientific controversy about the origin of birds, which Helland was heavily involved in, right? Helland, Tybjerg, and the Canadian scientist, Clive Freeman. But where does Johannes fit in? I can’t see it. I’m just a stupid cop, and I can’t see it. Murders are usually triggered by jealousy, drugs, money, or family issues, and I just don’t buy that someone might kill because their scientific reputation was threatened; because of a dissertation.”

Anna pondered this.

“Johannes helped me,” she said. “He is… was a science theorist and very talented. He helped me extract aspects of scientific theory that are relevant to controversies in biology. I’ve used those arguments to demolish Professor Freeman.” Anna suddenly looked directly at Søren. “That’s what my dissertation is about. I destroy him.” She gulped. “Johannes knew a vast amount about Karl Popper and his ideas about falsification, about Thomas Kuhn, who introduced the concept of paradigm in the 1960s, and especially about Lorraine J. Daston and her concept of scientific moral economies… I know, it took me weeks to grasp, so don’t feel ashamed if you think I’m speaking gibberish. The point is that plenty of vertebrate scientists and ornithologists have attacked Freeman over the years. Attacked his anatomical conclusions and his fossil analyses, and let me tell you something: he doesn’t care; he evades the issue, no matter what’s thrown at him. Before 2000, before Sinosauropteryx was found in China, you would often hear Freeman say, ‘Show me a feather that grew on a dinosaur, then I’ll believe your nonsense.’ And when he was finally shown a feathered dinosaur, his response was either: ‘That’s not a feather!’ or, if he couldn’t deny the structure was a feather, he would say: ‘That’s not from a dinosaur, just from a very old bird, which would, of course, have feathers!’ The problem is Freeman’s so well-versed in anatomy and physiology that it’s impossible for most people to take him on. But no one has ever tried to attack his underlying scientific principles. No one has ever proved he breaks the most fundamental scientific rules.”

“Which are?”

Anna was on the verge of giving up.

“It’s a bit complicated,” she began. “But internal contradictions, for example, are banned if you want to call your work scientific, and Freeman’s work is littered with inconsistencies. Further, he rejects generally accepted analytical methods. He’s entitled to do so, but only if he can argue convincingly for an alternative, and we don’t know if he can because he has never tried.” Anna paused and looked at Søren. One of his eyes was drooping slightly.

“I don’t believe for a moment that Professor Freeman has anything to do with this. If Freeman wants to prevent my dissertation from being published, then there are several people he needs to kill before Johannes and Helland. Me, for example. And Dr. Tybjerg.”

“Yes,” Søren said, looking at Anna. “But the reason we can’t find Tybjerg might be that he’s dead. I’m starting to think you should be put under police protection.”

“If there is a link between the two deaths,” Anna objected. She had absolutely no desire to have the World’s Most Irritating Detective following her round the clock. And, besides, Dr. Tybjerg wasn’t dead.

“Yes, if,” Søren said, suddenly looking very tired.

“I know the cysticerci were between three to four months old,” Anna continued. “I think this means even though Johannes and Helland died in the same week, they were technically killed at two completely different times. Johannes yesterday”—she swallowed—“and Helland possibly as far back as June or July.”

“We won’t know until tomorrow whether Johannes was also infected with cysticerci,” Søren said quietly. Anna stared at him.

“Who is the man who has waited for you twice, Anna?” Søren suddenly asked.

“How do you know about him?”

“Mrs. Snedker told me,” Søren said.

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “But I know it’s not Freeman. Maggie says he was young.”

“Haven’t you wondered about it?”

“At first I was convinced it must have been Johannes,” she said, “and I texted him to find out. When it turned out not to be him, then I started wondering. But if… if his killer has his cell,” Anna gulped, “maybe Johannes really was here, and the text messages are lying…. Perhaps Johannes came to tell me something? But then, why would he run away? That doesn’t make any sense.” She looked away.

Søren rose. “Tomorrow at 10 a.m.,” he said, pointing at her, “and don’t be late.”

Anna shook her head.

When she had closed the door after him, she gave him the finger.

Thirty seconds later, someone rattled Anna’s mail slot. Anna opened the door.

“So, what’s the latest?” Maggie whispered. Anna could hear that Søren hadn’t even reached the ground floor yet.

“Maggie, I’m exhausted,” Anna whispered back. “Tomorrow.”

Maggie looked disappointed and had turned around when something occurred to Anna.

“Maggie,” she said, taking the old lady’s hand. It was velvety. “If the man who waited for me comes back, then…” She looked gravely at her. “Then I want you to call the police.”

Maggie looked momentarily frightened, then she said, “I’ll tell you one thing, you’re a much more exciting neighbor than Mrs. Lerby. When she lived here, nothing ever happened.”

Anna smiled feebly and said goodnight. She sat down in her living room, barely able to keep her eyes open. For the first five minutes she just sat there. Johannes was dead. Her brain refused to accept it. She couldn’t tell Jens and Cecilie. They would freak out completely and refuse to allow her ever to set foot in the university again. Jens would stomp up and down and threaten to expose the department in the press. Then she remembered neither of them was talking to her. She kicked off her shoes.

She wanted to cry, but her chest tightened and no tears came. She mourned Johannes. Then she called Karen.

Karen picked up the telephone immediately and was thrilled when she realized who it was. She wasn’t the least frosty or guarded, as Anna had feared. Karen chatted away. She was a student at the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts and had lived in Copenhagen since August. She loved it, Copenhagen was a great city, and she had made lots of friends in no time. She knew where Anna lived but hadn’t called her. She admitted, frankly, that she needed to summon the courage after all these years, but last Tuesday she had bumped into Cecilie in the street. Cecilie had told her Anna was super-busy and one of her supervisors had died. Cecilie had promised to e-mail Karen with the date of Anna’s dissertation defense, and they had arranged for Karen to be there. As a graduation present.

“Imagine, you’re a real biologist now!” Karen exclaimed. “I’m so proud of you!”

Karen wanted to know everything about Lily. Brown hair, red hair, Anna’s color? What did she like? Could Karen buy her a present? A doll? Or a Spiderman apron so they could make models out of clay together? Anna was filled with regret. Why hadn’t she kept in touch with Karen? It seemed beyond silly, and Anna had an uncomfortable feeling it was her who had chosen not to see Karen, rather than the other way around. Her throat tightened and she responded monosyllabically to Karen’s joyful outbursts. Finally, Karen asked how she really was, apart from busy.

And the whole story poured out of her. Thomas, their shipwrecked relationship, Cecilie picking up the pieces, but who now stuck to her life like a barnacle, her graduate work at the department of Cell Biology and Comparative Zoology, about her supervisor and a fellow student, who both appeared to have been murdered. At this point, Anna burst into tears and Karen insisted on coming over—there’s no way you can be alone right now, she said, horrified.

“I don’t want to be by myself, either,” Anna sobbed. “But would you be able to come over tomorrow evening instead, please?” she asked in a small voice. “Would you like to stay with us over the weekend? Help me with Lily, so I don’t have to call Cecilie? I don’t want to call Cecilie. I feel so ashamed.” Karen agreed without a moment’s hesitation. She would love to come; there was nothing she would rather do. “I’ve missed you so much,” Anna said and hung up before Karen had time to reply.

Afterward, she was unable to fall asleep. The thoughts were churning inside her head. Finally, she sat up in her bed. Johannes was dead. He was in cold storage somewhere, on a stretcher in a mortuary. And she had never apologized to him. She had yelled at him, she had punished him for what he had said to the police, even though she wasn’t even seriously angry about it. Now it was too late, and Johannes had been right. She acted as if the whole world revolved around her.

Anna got up, walked through the apartment, past the nailed-down door to Thomas’s old office, and into the nursery where she picked up her sleeping daughter.

Once they were cuddled up under Anna’s comforter, she felt guilty. It was one thing when the kid toddled in during the night wanting to get into her bed, another to actually pick her up. Lily was a human being, not a hot water bottle. Cecilie had a tendency to act as if she was entitled to Anna. Not in an evil or calculating way, Cecilie wasn’t like that. But situations and clashes often had an undercurrent of “but you’re my daughter and I’m your mom.” As if that justified everything. It didn’t give you the right to cut corners and cross boundaries whenever you felt like it, it didn’t allow you to just take and keep on taking. And here Anna was, getting high on her own child. Inhaling the smell of Lily’s hair in the darkness, unfolding her sleeping fingers, caressing a warm, round shoulder. She couldn’t hold back the tears. The bedroom was dark and the street below very quiet. The bed linen absorbed her tears, but they kept on coming. She wanted her love for Lily to be pure. She wanted to be able to love her child. She desperately wanted to be the constant sun, warming her from afar, warming Lily, an eager seedling who wanted to grow up, up and away, grow lush green leaves and scarlet flowers and juicy pods. But her heart felt numb.

She stuck her arm under the pillow where Lily’s head was resting and pulled her closer. Anna had never been able to delight in things the way Karen could. Karen would be delirious with joy when she saw Anna after summer vacation, or when she cut school and spent the day shopping and going to cafés in Odense with her mother, with whom she had a seemingly great and uncomplicated relationship. Karen loved movies, spaghetti Bolognese, the beach, card games, and musicals, which she would play at maximum volume and dance around to with her wild curls. Karen never hinted her approach to life was better than Anna’s. Karen danced and sang at the top of her voice. Anna would hesitate, then tap her foot a couple of times. They had been friends. And Anna had messed it up.

Was Anna even capable of enjoying herself? Her parents mattered. A great deal. Just as Lily meant the world to her. But her worth came from the head, not the heart. She turned away from Lily, ashamed to entertain such thoughts while the toddler clung to her. She looked at the light from the city, which seeped in through the coarse curtain fabric.

When Troels had walked out that day ten years ago, the summer they graduated from high school, Karen had been beside herself. She had looked for him everywhere, called his parents; they had to find him, she wanted a reconciliation, she said so over and over, even though it was Anna who had done the damage. To Karen it was unbearable that they weren’t friends, and Anna tried to empathize with her friend’s anxiety. Where was he? What had she done? Deep down, she hadn’t actually cared, but merely pretended. He had been a bad friend. He no longer mattered. They could go to hell. All of them.

But there had been one great love. The thought was banal, trite even, but it filled her with horror because she longed to love Lily the way she had once loved Thomas. Passionately, unconditionally, non-negotiably. Anna let go of Lily completely and sat upright. It couldn’t be true that she had been able to love him but not her child. That had to be impossible. She didn’t want to be someone like that. Thomas was the past. Lily was the present and the future, she was forever. Anna swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She checked the time; it was 3 a.m.

She left the bedroom and closed the door behind her so as not to wake Lily. She made coffee, a large mug with warm milk. She lit a fire in the living room and pushed the armchair in front of the open doors of the stove.

Why are you so angry, Søren had asked? For a moment, his eyes had been tender and curious. As if he truly didn’t understand. Perhaps she didn’t understand it, either. That was just the way she was. Anger was her most powerful emotion. Much stronger than love. The thought paralyzed her. She was angry with Thomas, but her anger was ultimately futile. They hadn’t seen him for over two years, and all she knew was that he worked in Stockholm and she had his number somewhere, but apart from that she knew nothing and he never contacted them.

But she was also angry with Cecilie and feelings ran high every time they saw each other. And Jens annoyed her. When he picked his nose, when he was late, when he couldn’t quit smoking, or generally failed to pull himself together. She was incapable of tempering her irritation with concern and tolerance, she simply blew a fuse. At the slightest thing. And then there was Lily. Anna obviously wasn’t angry with her three-year-old daughter, but neither did she possess the patience she so desperately longed to have. Lily was demanding and impossible to negotiate with, she was stubborn, she acted as if she had no common sense, and she clearly hadn’t because she was only three years old!

She had been angry with Helland, Tybjerg, and Johannes. Johannes, who massaged her shoulders when she had slept badly. Johannes, who listened gently and attentively and made her laugh. Her rage triumphed every time. It made no sense. Why was she so angry? She put her mug on the floor and pressed her knees into her eyes. The fire was roaring now and warmed her thighs.

She got up, feeling livid. No way did she want to be angry with her child! Children couldn’t handle that! A child loves because it feels loved.

Anna studied the photo of Cecilie, Jens, and her younger self, a girl with sparkling eyes. Noted the contrast between her parents’ smiling mouths and their sad eyes; stared at her own, oblivious innocence. Something had happened back then. She would visit Ulla Bodelsen tomorrow. A child loves because she feels loved.

Her interview at the police station on Friday morning lasted just under two hours. Søren was clean-shaven, and his treatment of her was equally smooth. Nothing in his behavior revealed he had tucked her daughter in bed and held her hard by the shoulders last night. Another officer was present during the interview; perhaps that explained why. She left just after twelve and had an hour and a half before her train to Odense. She was in need of fresh air and decided to walk down Frederikssundvej. It was cold and a couple of birds on the pavement couldn’t even be bothered to take off when Anna walked past them.

Further down the street she noticed a man who reminded her of Troels. Karen hadn’t mentioned him, and Anna had avoided the subject completely. But perhaps she had to face it at last? Maybe it was time to get in touch with him and apologize for what she had said? Even though she didn’t feel genuinely sorry? Handsome Troels. Anna stared—surely she was seeing things? How could anyone look so much like him? It couldn’t possibly be him. Troels wouldn’t just show up out of nowhere, after ten years, on Frederikssundvej; there was no way he could know that Anna would be there or that she had got back in touch with Karen the day before. That simply couldn’t happen.

But there he was. He was standing outside a grocery store, casually, as though he was waiting for a cab on the corner of Second Avenue and Fifty-eighth Street. Troels stared into the distance, across the road, across the cars, and Anna tried to follow his gaze. She just had time to think that he was posing, that he must have seen her and was now trying too hard to pretend he hadn’t, when he turned his head and looked straight at her.

“Hi, Anna!” he exclaimed, astonished. “Wow, Anna, hi!” he said again. His voice sounded delighted and genuine, and Anna couldn’t help laughing when she embraced him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she said into his oilskin jacket. It smelled of nicotine.

“I was just wondering,” Troels laughed, squeezing her, “if Anna Bella Nor had learned to speak like a lady or whether she still swears like a sailor! How are you? I hear you’ve become a dinosaur expert, or an archaeologist or something?”

“That’s about it,” Anna smiled. “But who told you that?”

Troels looked fantastic. He had flawless skin and his dark eyebrows and lashes were exquisitely groomed and beautifully arched. A green stone sparkled in one eyebrow, and he wore a St. Pauli hat with the famous skull emblem pulled over his ears.

“I ran into Karen a couple of days ago. Imagine running into you both within the same week, how weird is that? She told me. It sounds really exciting! We talked about getting together.”

Anna frowned. Get together? Him and Karen? Or did he mean Karen and Anna and him? He didn’t seem angry, not at all. More like exulted, bordering on nervous. She certainly was. Through her clothes, her armpits felt clammy.

“A dinosaur biologist, Anna Bella, you show-off! I always thought you wanted to do something else.”

Anna wrinkled her nose. “Let’s walk,” she suggested. “It’s too cold to stand still.”

He glanced at his watch, then he nodded. They started walking.

“If I were to hazard a guess, I would have said you would become a sergeant in the army or something hard-core, where you could boss a lot of people around,” he laughed.

Anna gave him a wounded look.

“Ten years and you’re still full of opinions about things you know shit about.”

“Hey, Anna Bella,” he said, amicably. “Let’s not argue.”

“Why not?” Anna snapped, taken aback by how quickly her old rage flared up. “You’ve always had completely the wrong impression of me!” They had only been walking for 150 feet, and Anna wanted to stamp her foot. Troels seemed unperturbed.

“Why didn’t we keep in touch?” was all he said. “You, me, and Karen. You were my best friends, and suddenly you disappeared.”

“No, you disappeared,” Anna protested. “It was you who disappeared.”

It was Troels’s turn to frown. “Whatever,” he then said.

“So, what have you been up to?” Anna said, changing the subject.

“This and that,” Troels said, unenthusiastically. “Went to Milan first, that was all right. Then I moved to New York. Made some money modeling, but perhaps you already know that?”

“No,” Anna replied.

“Seriously? And here was I thinking I was famous for my good looks.” He laughed a hollow laugh. “In New York I started to paint. That’s why I’ve moved back to Copenhagen. I applied to the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts. That’s where I bumped into Karen, at an open evening. It was unbelievable. We had a beer afterward and talked about you. Unfortunately I was rejected, but I’ll apply again. Since then we’ve gotten together a couple of times.” Troels smiled. “In fact, I saw her last Tuesday. We had a burger at a café. Karen wanted me to come with her to your dissertation defense. As a surprise. I think she would like us to be friends again.” Troels temporarily looked shy, and they walked on in silence.

“Karen said something about someone in your department dying?” Troels remarked.

“He wasn’t just anybody, he was my supervisor. Heart attack. He was only fifty-seven,” Anna muttered. It was none of his business. Cecilie should not have told Karen, and Karen should certainly not have told Troels.

Troels was quiet for a while, then he said: “No, one of your friends. A young guy.”

Anna stopped in her tracks.

“How do you know?” she said in a low voice.

“From Karen,” Troels said, casually. “She called late last night,” he admitted. “After you had spoken to her. She suggested that we kiss and make up, as she put it. She said you were upset. Distraught, in fact.”

Anna stared at him in disbelief. “And she called last night to tell you that?”

“Yes,” Troels said, as if this were quite normal. “I’d gone to bed, but I was reading. It was way past midnight. She was worried because you were so distressed. She said you needed help immediately; you needed your old friends. She said your voice had sounded strange.” Troels smiled gently. “It’s uncanny because I’ve wanted to contact you for a long time. Forget what happened back then and start over.” He laughed briefly. Anna eyed him suspiciously.

“So the next day you just happen to bump into me?” She took a step backward.

“Okay,” he confessed, grinning broadly. “It’s not a coincidence. I saw you on the bus this morning. I was sitting at the back. You got on at Rantzausgade and got off at Bellahøj. I got off there, too, and I waited outside the police station. I’ve been a chicken. I’ve been back from New York since February, and one of the first things I did was find out where you and Karen lived. I wanted to call you so many times, and I don’t really know what stopped me.” He suddenly seemed timid.

“And I suppose I feel embarrassed,” he added. “Toward your parents as well. After everything they did for me. For years they sent me letters and presents. And I never wrote back. So when I saw you this morning, I thought, it’s now or never. I waited for you outside the police station. I had nearly given up when you finally came out. I was freaking freezing.” He laughed and patted himself to warm up.

“Well, there’s not much meat on you,” Anna blurted out.

“Or you,” Troels said, affectionately. Spontaneously, Anna stuck her arm under Troels’s. He smiled.

“It must be tough,” he said. “Have you been interviewed by the police?”

“Hmm,” Anna replied, evasively. “I’m helping the police a bit. They don’t really get the world of academia,” she said and fell silent.

Troels looked at her. “What did they ask you?” he pressed.

Anna stopped and glared at him. “Honestly, Troels. What happened back then?” she challenged him. “Why did you leave? Why did you disappear? Karen looked for you for weeks.”

“Does it really matter now?” Troels asked.

“If it doesn’t matter, then why did you leave? Drama queen.”

Troels withdrew his arm from hers.

“Don’t do that!” His eyes glowed.

Anna planted her hands on her hips. “Don’t do what?” she fumed. “I’m not doing anything. You’ve been spying on me, following me, and behaving very strangely. And now you say that it doesn’t matter. You dropped off the face of the earth for ten years. That does matter! I can’t have people just disappearing like that, it’s a rotten thing to do!” She was jabbing her finger at him now and her eyes turned shiny with anger. Troels’s face hardened.

“You were my best friend,” he almost whispered. “I trusted you. You and Karen and your parents. And that night you behaved just like my dad. And you know it. You were vicious.” Troels clenched his jaw.

Anna simmered with rage and knew she was about to lose her temper again. She only restrained herself because the image of the World’s Most Irritating Detective appeared on her retina.

“Listen, why don’t we say good-bye now and meet up after my present my dissertation?” she forced herself to say in a controlled voice. “Karen and you are welcome to attend it, it’s a public event,” she added and glanced at him. “Only I’m a bit pressed for time now, Troels. I’m sorry. I want to get on. On my own. I’ve got some things I need to process. And I’ve a train to catch.”

For a moment his face looked outraged and she thought he was shaking, but then he relaxed.

“Okay,” he acquiesced. “It’s all right. I understand you’re under pressure. First your supervisor, then Johannes. That can’t have been easy.”

Anna thawed a little. “Hey,” she said, reaching out for his hand. “I’d really like to see you, Troels. In a couple of weeks, all right?” She tried to calm things down and remembered Søren telling her to be good. She had almost managed it.

“I’m going this way,” Troels said weakly, and pointed toward the intersection. “I don’t live far away.”

“Okay,” Anna said. She hugged him and their embrace felt hard and bony. Anna gripped his arm and briefly held him at a distance.

“Friends again?” she asked.

“Of course,” Troels smiled. “Bad timing,” he added. “I just couldn’t help myself when I saw you this morning. I had been thinking about you and then, presto, you get on my bus. I should have waited.” He moved a lock of Anna’s hair from her forehead with his gloved hand.

“See you, gorgeous,” he said and crossed the road. Anna looked after him.

Lily was in high spirits all the way to Odense. They had found seats in a family carriage and the first thing she did was empty her rucksack of toys out on the table. Her cries of delight quickly attracted two other children and soon Lily was handing round teddies, dolls, and Lego bricks. Anna watched her daughter from her window seat. Then the train attendant arrived with her trolley, Anna bought hot dogs and two cartons of juice, and when they had eaten their lunch, they were practically at their destination.

At Odense railway station, Anna was struck by how everything had changed and yet it remained the same. There was a multitude of shops now and the place looked more like a shopping center than a station. An escalator had been installed, and there was a new parking lot at the station entrance. Nevertheless, she was overcome with nostalgia.

While Anna and Lily walked—at a painfully slow pace—along the pavement, she wondered if she knew anyone in this city. Several of her and Karen’s old school friends were bound to live here, but she couldn’t recall the names of any of them. Karen’s mother still lived here, she believed. Anna sighed. Karen was coming over tonight.

Anna had printed out a map and had been delighted to discover that Ulla Bodelsen lived within walking distance of the train station, in a narrow street called Rytterstræde. Lily toddled along with enthusiasm in her snowsuit, and it wasn’t until she slipped and fell that she insisted on being carried. Anna sweated. What the hell did she think she was doing? Ulla Bodelsen had to be around eighty years old and bound to be senile and confused. And how many children had passed through her hands since Anna? Anna decided she was an idiot for thinking this was a good idea. She made a mental note to buy flowers for the funeral tomorrow.

Her cell rang. She shifted Lily on to her hip and managed to retrieve it from her pocket. It was a man from the examination board confirming the exact time for her dissertation defense. When the conversation had ended, Lily said: “Was that my daddy?”

Anna was astonished. “No, darling,” she replied.

“Don’t I have a daddy?” she wanted to know. Their eyes were very close and Anna could feel Lily’s warm breath on her chin.

“Yes, darling. You have a daddy. His name is Thomas, and he lives far away. In Sweden. He’s a doctor and he makes people better.”

“Andreas’s daddy is called Mikkel,” Lily said. “I want a daddy, too.”

“Yes, I know,” Anna said.

“Poor Daddy,” Lily said and squirmed to get down. She had spotted something shiny on the pavement. “Look, Mom, gold!” she called out, ecstatically.

“Why poor Daddy?” Anna asked.

“Look, Mom. Real gold.” Lily picked up a bottle top of golden foil. Someone had smoothed it out and it looked like a small sun. “Gold. Gold!”

Anna gave up.

Ulla Bodelsen lived in a ground floor apartment in a small cobblestoned street. Anna hesitated before she rang the doorbell and started sweating when she heard quick footsteps behind the door. Lily marched straight in when it was opened.

“Look, we found gold,” she informed the old lady. “What’s your name?”

The elderly, but well-groomed woman bent down, cupped Lily’s face in her hands and studied her closely.

“Yes, it’s clear to see,” she said, enigmatically “My name’s Ulla. What’s yours?”

“Lily Marie Nor,” Lily said with emphasis. “Please may I have some squash?”

Ulla Bodelsen laughed and looked at Anna.

“Hello,” she said, warmly. Anna shook her hand. Ulla Bodelsen’s eyes were green and bright, her hair was cut in a short, modern style, and her skin surprisingly smooth. A kayak was leaning against the wall behind her.

“You’re a canoeist?” Anna exclaimed, amazed.

“Yes, well, I kayak,” Ulla Bodelsen replied, patting its fiberglass hull as she led Anna into the living room. “I retired, reluctantly I admit, some… twelve years ago or thereabouts. When I turned sixty-two. The thought of doing nothing was rather alien to me.” She laughed. “I loved my work, you see. But now I’m extremely pleased that I did. In fact, I’m busier now than I ever was.” She laughed again. “I’ve trained as a swimming instructor. I teach beginners three times a week, and I’ve become hooked on kayaking.”

The walls in the room were white, the furniture stylish and simple, and on the wall hung a poster from the 1996 Copenhagen Jazz Festival. Ulla Bodelsen gestured toward a black sofa and Anna sat down. The old woman had baked rolls and had made tea and there was a bowl of rock candy.

“Look what I made for you,” she said to Lily, peeling plastic wrap off a plate and handing her a selection of apple slices, melon, a peeled mandarin, three Gummi bears, and some mixed nuts. While Lily inspected her treat, Ulla Bodelsen fetched a toybox, which Lily explored with glee.

“Help yourself,” Ulla Bodelsen said to Anna, nodding toward the coffee table. “I’ve just got to get something.” Anna buttered a roll and added milk to her tea. What kind of old woman would Cecilie become? Would she be like Maggie? Like Ulla Bodelsen? Bursting with life and joy even though time was running out? Anna found that very hard to imagine.

The older woman returned with a white envelope, which she placed on the table. They ate rolls and drank tea for a long time, and they discussed the communes in Brænderup, which now had either been knocked down or renovated beyond recognition. They even discovered that one of Anna’s old teachers turned out to be married to Ulla’s nephew.

Eventually she said, “The envelope is for you.” She looked at Anna. “I don’t know precisely why you’re here, and…” she hesitated. “And you don’t need to explain anything if you don’t want to. That’s quite all right.” She hesitated again. “I can’t figure out how I could have ever met you before, but after last night, after we had spoken, I went through my files.” Ulla gestured to the dining table at the other end of the room. On top of it stood four cardboard boxes with metal edges. “Our conversation kept troubling me. I found the photo at the bottom of the third box. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of snapshots in those boxes. Of children and their parents during all my years as a health visitor. And there was one of a father and a child whom I remember, Jens and… Sara. Some corner of my mind remembered that photo, and I found it.” She looked away.

“The health visitor, who had initially been assigned to the family, moved to Greenland when her husband was offered a job up there, and I took over when Sara was around seven months old. The mother had injured her back during the birth and had been in chronic pain ever since. She had had several operations and had been hospitalized repeatedly for long periods and whenever I visited, the father was always alone with the baby.”

“Is there a record? Did you make notes about… Sara?”

“Yes, and that’s what triggered my memory last night. I remembered that Sara’s record was missing,” Ulla said. “When I took over, everything was in a state of flux. We had just been merged with Odense Nursing School, and the result was chaos. Before my first visit to the family, I looked for her record, but I couldn’t find it. When I explained this to a colleague, she convinced me that my predecessor must have left it with the family with instructions to pass it on to their new health visitor. But when I asked for the record, the father said it had never been given to him. So together we created a new one. Sara was thriving and gaining weight, and there was really very little for me to do. During what would be my first and only visit, Jens was delighted to share his good news with me. Sara’s mother had had another operation, at a private clinic somewhere, in England I think it was, and it had been very successful. That was the day he gave me the photograph.” She nodded toward the envelope. “I was very moved when I left. I looked forward to visiting the family three months later, to finally meeting Sara’s mother, and I hoped it would all work out for them. But I never saw them again. Jens called to say there was no need for me to come.”

“And you never got an explanation?”

“No,” Ulla replied. “Life moved on. New children, new family histories.”

“The other health visitor… what was her name?” Anna wanted to know.

“Grethe Nygaard. She’s dead. I saw her death notice in the local paper three years ago. She died in Greenland.”

Anna cast a sidelong glance at the envelope.

“Open the envelope, Anna,” Ulla said, gently. Anna reached for the envelope and her hands were shaking. I’m going to die, she thought. She opened the envelope and carefully pulled out a picture. She looked at the back of the photo.

“Jens and Sara Bella Nor, August 1978” it read. Anna stared at it. Then she turned it over. It had faded slightly, but only a little. The background showed hessian wallpaper and part of a brown window frame. There were two people in the picture. A very young Jens with masses of hair and a beard. He was looking into the camera and his smile was crooked, but his expression was dark and mournful. On his lap sat a small girl in a pinafore dress and a diaper. She was the spitting image of Lily. The tears started rolling down Anna’s cheeks.

“There can be no doubt,” Ulla said carefully. “You’re like two peas in a pod.” She looked gravely at Anna. “And I swear on my Hippocratic oath: the little girl in that photo, that one,” she pointed, “her name was Sara. I wrote her name on the back of the photo. I’ve always been meticulous.”

Ulla Bodelsen got up and sat down next to Anna on the sofa. Lily was absorbed in play under the dining table where she had lined up the teddies and the dolls. Anna wanted to get up, but instead she leaned into the other woman and Ulla put her strong, old arms around her.

Anna didn’t want to leave, but Lily had started rubbing her eyes so Anna decided the time had come to say good-bye. She returned the photo to the envelope and put it in her bag. Then she dressed Lily in her snowsuit and hugged Ulla Bodelsen. They didn’t speak much. Anna said thank you and the old woman said take good care of yourself. Lily wanted to be carried, and just as they boarded the train to Copenhagen, she fell asleep on Anna’s shoulder. Anna was soaked with sweat. She settled Lily across two seats, unzipped her snowsuit, and bought herself a large cup of tea with milk. Soon she found herself ringing Jens without having decided what to say to him.

“Jens.” He sounded tired.

“Dad, it’s me,” Anna said.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he murmured.

“Why haven’t either of you called me?” she asked, as calmly as she could manage. “Have you decided to gang up on your only daughter?”

“Anna,” her father said. “I’ve called you lots of times, but you won’t answer. Your behavior is ridiculous. Honestly. You’ve no reason to scream at your mother and lecture me. We’re only trying to help you. You’re stressed, we’re aware of that, and Cecilie and I think it’s crazy that Lily can’t be with us, with Cecilie, until your dissertation defense. But she’s your child and, of course, we can’t make the decision for you. We just don’t understand. Surely it would be much better for Lily to be with people who’ve got time for her, wouldn’t it, Anna, my love? But if you don’t want to—” He would have carried on talking, but Anna interrupted him.

“I love you, Dad, do you know that?” she said hoarsely. “But you’re spineless.” The tears forced their way out. “Not everything Cecilie says or does is the law. And right now Cecilie isn’t good for Lily or me. And I think you know that. I’ve been so unhappy these last two years because of Thomas, and I don’t know how I would have managed without your and Cecilie’s help. But you’ve got to stop now. Both of you. Lily and I need to be mother and daughter; there may only be two of us, Jens, but we’re a complete family. And you need to leave us alone. You can be Lily’s grandparents who visit on Sundays and bring sweets, and you can borrow her during summer vacation. But Lily’s my daughter, and I’m a good mother. Not perfect, but I want to be her mother. Do you understand?” She was hissing now from trying to keep her voice down. There was silence down the other end.

“I’ve never been able to understand why you’re so aggressive.” He sounded hurt.

“Who is Sara Bella?” There was no stopping her now.

“Pardon?” Jens switched the telephone to his other hand, and Anna imagined he had been lying on the sofa and was now sitting up.

“Who is Sara? I’m Sara, aren’t I? My name was Sara when I was a baby, wasn’t it? Why? What the hell is wrong with you two?!” She regretted the latter as soon as she had said it. Jens would only hear her swearing, not the message. As had happened a thousand times before. And she was right.

“Anna,” Jens said quietly. “Don’t speak to me like that. You’re stressed, I understand, but you’ve gone too far.”

“I don’t give a damn how I speak to you, Dad,” Anna said, icily. “You’ve lied. You’re still lying. There was a girl named Sara Bella, I saw a picture of her today. She’s the spitting image of Lily. On the back of the picture it read ‘Jens and Sara Bella.’ I’m her, I know I am. Why?”

“Where are you?” Jens was sounding genuinely shocked now.

“On a train between Odense and Copenhagen,” Anna sighed. Silence followed.

“Where’s Lily?”

“I abandoned her in an orphanage and made a break for it. What do you take me for? She’s asleep next to me.”

“What were you doing in Odense?” The fear in Jens’s voice was so obvious that Anna mellowed a little.

“Silly Daddy,” she said. “We went to Odense to visit Ulla Bodelsen. My health visitor. Who helped you all the times Mom was in hospital. You want to know why I’m angry? I can’t explain because I don’t know, either. But you do.” She exhaled.

“My birth certificate,” she suddenly remembered. “The date I was named is almost eleven months after the day I was born. It’s not true you named me as late as you’ve always maintained, is it? You changed my name. Why?” The latter came out as a not very quiet roar. Lily jerked, and a man wearing earphones turned and gave Anna a look.

There was total silence down the other end.

“Anna,” Jens pleaded. “We need to talk. I can explain.”

Anna held out her cell and scowled at it. Then she remembered that the World’s Most Irritating Detective had told her to control herself. She put the phone back to her ear.

“Anna,” Jens called out. “Anna?”

“I’m here,” she said tonelessly.

“Cecilie can’t know about this,” he whispered. “Promise me you won’t mention this. I can explain. It would destroy her completely.”

“Dad,” she said patiently, “if the truth will destroy her, she’ll have to be destroyed. It’s over.” She hung up. Her cell phone rang immediately. Jens’s name came up on the display. She switched the phone to silent and stared at it. He called eight times before he gave up. He left no messages. Anna leaned back and tried to look out into the dark night, but all she saw was her own reflection. She looked tired, but not angry. Not in the least. She closed her eyes. She began to fit together the pieces of what had happened almost thirty years ago, when she was born. But only the pieces. A girl who started off as Sara, then became Anna. A lie.

Slowly she calmed down. She went to the restroom, and when she returned she covered Lily with her jacket. Then she called Karen.

“I was just about to give up on you,” Karen said happily. Anna had spent the day being cross with Karen for calling Troels the night before, but she was no longer angry. Instead she said: “It took longer than I had expected. I went to Odense. It’s a long story. We’re on the train. We get in at 10:08.”

“I’ll meet you at the station,” Karen said.

“There’s really no need,” Anna said.

“I know. But I’ll be there anyway.”