The Dinosaur Feather

Chapter 16

When Anna got home, she climbed into bed next to Karen and slept soundly. In the morning she made pancakes and treated Lily to a bubble bath. Every time Karen passed her, Anna gave her a hug. Karen was overjoyed but confused.

“What are you up to?” she wanted to know.

Anna smiled softly.

“It’s just that…” She shook her head.

Karen asked if she could get Lily out of the bath, so Anna went into the living room. She had received another text message from Johannes’s mobile.

Can we meet at my place? it said.

Anna replied: No. The Natural History Museum. 3 p.m. Or I call the police. Then she returned to the bathroom. Karen was sitting on the toilet seat with a towel in her lap. Lily was squealing with delight at a plastic Bambi bath toy with a Santa-Claus-style foam beard. Anna’s heart sank. She was about to make Karen very sad. Gently, she put her hand on Karen’s back.

“I thought it might be a good idea to visit Cecilie,” she suggested. Lily stood up among the bubbles and held up her arms.

“Granny, Granny,” she shouted. Karen turned around and gave Anna a baffled look.

They walked through Assistens Cemetery. It took them nearly an hour. Lily was in her snowsuit and insisted on climbing everything. Anna and Karen wandered side by side, taking in the snow-covered landscape.

They bought cakes filled with chopped pistachios and a bag of dry, sweet rolls from an Arab bakery in Nørrebrogade. Anna and Lily stopped outside every store and admired the displays. Anna pointed and said, “Look at that” or “Isn’t that cute.”

“Come on,” Karen implored them, shivering. “Walking slowly isn’t going to get you out of it.”

Anna shot her a look.

Karen and Lily raced each other up the stairs. Anna followed. She heard joyous commotion when Cecilie opened the door.

“Hunnybunny!” Cecilie exclaimed. “Hi, Karen! How lovely to see you. Come here, sweetheart, let me give you a big hug. I’ve missed you so much.”

When Anna reached Cecilie’s apartment, Cecilie had lifted Lily up and was holding her tightly. She spotted Anna over Lily’s shoulder and paled.

“Hi, Anna,” she said, putting Lily down. Lily slipped into the apartment with familiar ease.

“Hi, Mom,” Anna said, her cheek brushing her mother’s.

“Come in. It’s freezing outside.”

Inside the hall Lily quickly pulled her toys from a big blue box and started playing. She was still in her snowsuit and wool hat. Karen helped her out of them.

“Look, this is my bed when I’m at Granny’s,” Lily chatted. “And look, I’ve got dollies, too. A little dolly and a big dolly. And teddies and books.” Karen admired everything. Anna remained in the hall. Cecilie smiled nervously.

“Aren’t you going to take off your jacket?”

“No, I’m not staying. There’s something I need to do. Is that okay with you, Karen?”

Karen looked puzzled, but she nodded.

“Are you still sulking?” Cecilie wanted to know. “Am I still banned from helping out with Lily?” She smiled patronizingly.

“Have you spoken to Jens?” Anna asked.

Cecilie blinked.

“I speak to Jens every day, Anna.”

Cecilie’s gaze was expectant and a little wounded, as if she was waiting for Anna to apologize for shouting at her the other day. Anna watched her mother in silence, aware of how uncomfortable Karen was at being monkey-in-the middle. Then Karen took charge of Lily, lifted her up, and carried her into the living room with a book. Cecilie suddenly looked ill-at-ease, as if she sensed that something was wrong.

“I know everything, Mom,” Anna said in a thick voice.

Cecilie blinked again.

“Sorry, what?”

“I know you had postpartum depression when I was born. I know you couldn’t take care of me, that you didn’t feed me properly. I know my name used to be Sara, because Dad loved that name; I know he took care of me as best he could. I know you came home from the hospital when I was nearly a year old, and I know you didn’t want anyone to ever know you had been ill. I know everything.”

Cecilie’s jaw dropped.

“I also know you love me,” Anna continued. “That you try to make up for it every day. I know you love Lily more than anything, and I know you’re afraid I will fail her, as you failed me. I think you got scared when Thomas left and I was so distraught I could barely take care of her. I hit rock bottom, and you thought history might repeat itself. You were afraid I might hurt Lily, like you hurt me.”

Cecilie had said nothing. Now she gasped for air and let out a dry, agonizing howl.

“But I’m not you, Mom,” Anna said, gently. “I’m Anna Bella, and I’ve never been ill way you were. True, I struggled… I felt angry and impotent because Thomas had abandoned us. But I was never ill, and I have never failed Lily.” Anna fixed Cecilie with her eyes. She stepped forward, took Cecilie’s hand, and pulled her toward her. Cecilie was rigid with fear and resisted, but Anna kept hugging her.

“What happened was bad, Mom,” she said into Cecilie’s hair. “But it happened. I can live with it. Now that I finally know,” she added. “Lily loves you. You’re her granny. But don’t try to protect her from something that has nothing to do with us.” Anna grabbed her mother’s shoulders.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” she said, firmly.

Cecilie’s face dissolved. She still hadn’t uttered a word. She nodded. Anna embraced her again.

When Cecilie composed herself, Anna kissed her daughter and Karen good-bye, gave Cecilie another hug, and left.

Anna opened the door to the Vertebrate Collection, stepped into the twilight and called out. “Dr. Tybjerg, where are you? I need to talk to you.”

She was impatient and when she heard a noise coming from the far end of the room, she marched directly toward it. Suddenly he appeared in front of her, just like the last time. Dark-eyed and surrounded by shadows.

“Why are you shouting?” he asked.

“Why did you blackmail Professor Helland?”

Dr. Tybjerg’s eyes widened. He didn’t look like he intended to give her an answer.

Anna leaned toward him and, very calmly, said, “I ought to suspect you, you know.”

“Of what?” he said, genuinely surprised.

“Of killing Helland. You’re the only one I can think of who actually has a motive. You were Helland’s crown prince, and now the king is dead.”

“That’s utter garbage,” Dr. Tybjerg said. “Lars was my friend.”

He retreated into the darkness. Anna followed him.

“But you were blackmailing him?”

“The two things aren’t remotely connected,” he said. “One is about science, about research; the other is about friendship. Friendship and science are two irreconcilable entities. Lars would have done the same, he said. Everyone puts pressure on you. That’s just how it is. Desperate times call for desperate measures. And the times are truly desperate.” Dr. Tybjerg gave her a fraught look.

“But why? Seven thousand kroner a month for three years. That’s serious money.”

Dr. Tybjerg momentarily looked stunned, then he shrugged.

“To fund my research. I’ve already said so.” He took another step into the dark and Anna pursued him.

“How did you blackmail him? Come on, help me out here.”

Dr. Tybjerg shrugged again.

“I discovered Lars had an illegitimate son. His name’s Asger.”

Asger. The name rang a bell.

“Asger used to be my friend, but not even Asger knew he was Helland’s son. It was a scandal. Or rather, it would have been had it become known that Professor Helland had had an affair with one of his students. She was a nineteen-year-old undergraduate and Helland was her tutor. Asger’s mother hasn’t told her son who his father is.” Dr. Tybjerg suddenly looked horrified at Anna. “Asger attended lectures given by his own father and he never knew, can you imagine? Asger and I aren’t friends anymore. He changed when he lost his job. Grew strange. He used to be good. The best. He was a coleopterologist; still is, I suppose. He sailed through his studies. His PhD was approved, he wrote his doctoral thesis, the whole shebang in record time. He was the youngest staff member in a tiny department whose elderly professor was about to retire, leaving the Chair vacant for Asger. The future looked bright. And do you know what happened then? The Faculty Council closed the department. They claimed they had sent Asger a letter, but it somehow had gotten lost. We were still friends then. When he came back after the summer break, ready to start a new term, to teach and research, the department was no longer there. The end. Terribly sorry, et cetera…”

“How did you find out Asger was Helland’s son?”

Dr. Tybjerg looked torn, then he sighed and continued.

“Asger’s mother is a professor here, but she works in a different department. One day I saw her with Helland. They were having an argument, which was clearly personal. It happened in a corner right by the entrance, and I watched them from the stairs, unnoticed. It sounded like Asger’s mother was threatening Helland—she was very angry. At the time, I had just finished my PhD and my dream was to research, but I wasn’t entirely sure how to go about it. I don’t know what prompted me, but shortly afterward I dropped a hint to Helland. We were working together—over there, as it happens—by those long desks, and it was a chance shot. Turned out to be a bull’s eye. I could see it in his face. He went pale, and his reaction told me I had stumbled onto something much bigger than I had initially suspected. I brought up the subject every time we met, until he asked me outright to keep quiet. I agreed, of course. Shortly afterward I was given an office in the basement. Helland arranged it. Remember, I wasn’t demanding astronomical sums of cash and all sorts of perks. However, I could see how government cuts were affecting us, we were all hanging on by the skin of our teeth and I feared redundancy. I have devoted my life to reaching this level of expertise, and there’s no way I’m joining a retraining program for the unemployed.” He sounded outraged now. “So I suppose you could say I twisted Helland’s arm a little. But like I said, we struck a deal. I did him a favor by keeping quiet, and he did me a favor by sending work my way. I got a small office, one that no one else wanted, and an invitation to join in his research. That’s why we did so many things together, papers, posters, and research proposals. But it wasn’t the only reason. It was killing two birds with one stone, see? We worked within the same field, and together we made a strong team. One of the strongest in the world. Over time, my arm twisting faded into the background.”

“Why didn’t Helland want it known that Asger was his son?”

“Well, why do you think? Number one, he would have been fired on the spot, and number two, his wife would have been less than thrilled.”

“Who is Asger’s mother? Do I know her?”

“Possibly. Her name is Hanne Moritzen; she’s a parasitologist. She has an office on the ground floor.”

You could have knocked Anna down with a feather.

“She’s his mother?”

“Yes,” Tybjerg said. “Asger’s mother is Professor Moritzen.”

“Why do you think that?” she said in disbelief.

“You don’t think Asger would know his own mother?”

“But I know her,” Anna said, vehemently. “She doesn’t have children. She always said she never had children!”

“Then she was lying,” Dr. Tybjerg declared.

Anna was at a total loss. Hanne had a son with Professor Helland. Anna was only distracted for a second, but Tybjerg managed to retreat so far into the darkness that he vanished. Anna heard the sound of his shoes, heard him mutter something, and then the rattling of a cupboard door. She stared into space, stunned.

“I have to go,” she muttered to herself.

Anna left the Vertebrate Collection and let herself into the museum. Her heart was pounding and she was starting to have second thoughts. Should she have told Søren what she had discovered? Was her plan too dangerous, after all?

Then she spotted Troels. He was waiting for her in the doorway to the Mammoth Room. He touched the artificial glacier with trepidation and withdrew his hand in wonder. He wasn’t wearing a jacket and had stuffed his wool hat into his back pocket. His auburn hair fell in skillfully cut locks across his forehead.

Anna’s breathing quickened as she watched him, her weapon safe in her pocket. When she had managed to calm down, she approached him and gently put her hand on his back. He turned around.

“Hello again, Anna,” he said. His eyes were flickering.

“Come on, let’s go,” she said, softly.

Slowly, without speaking, they drifted through the exhibition. They even stopped in front of some exhibits before ending up in the Sperm Whale Room, where they found a bench. A group of noisy kids shuffled their feet, waiting impatiently for headsets to be passed around. Anna and Troels sat close together.

Anna said, “What have you done?” and turned to him.

“I didn’t mean to.”

Anna gasped.

“What happened?” she whispered.

“I fell in love with him,” he confessed.

“With Johannes?” Anna raised her eyebrows and, for a moment, her horror gave way to confusion. “But Johannes wasn’t gay… he…”

“I know,” Troels replied, quietly. “But I was still in love with him.”

“So what happened?” Anna probed.

“We met at the Red Mask. I went there with a couple of guys I don’t actually know very well. I had never been there before, but I liked the place. I noticed Johannes almost immediately. He was standing at the bar, looking amazing. He wasn’t actually very handsome, was he? But he outshone everyone and made us all laugh. He was surrounded by people. I moved closer and we started talking. I drank some more beer—I had already had too many. We talked for a long time, and I struggled to keep up.” Troels looked embarrassed. “He spoke about complex subjects, gestured with his hands, touched my shoulder, stabbed his finger into my chest, ruffled my hair. For a new acquaintance he was very physical, and I lapped it up. I’ve been on the gay scene for years,” he smiled, “where, usually, quick physical contact equals sex, and I thought… he wore a leather skirt, fishnet tights, and army boots. Johannes, however, spoke about everything but sex that night. He talked endlessly about the theory of science, which didn’t really interest me. But he mesmerized me. He seemed completely indifferent to how other people perceived him, waved his arms around whenever he felt like it. Take me or leave me. That was why he was a magnet, of course. I’ve always admired people like that.

“At dawn, we left together and walked to Enghave Plads. He hugged me and said it had been great to meet me, that he would like to see me again.”

“Johannes wasn’t gay,” Anna protested. Troels looked away.

“We met a few days later. I couldn’t get him out of my head. He invited me to dinner at his apartment; we drank wine. I was totally confused. He sent out such contradictory signals and in the end, I asked him outright. I said I was very attracted to him; I wanted to have sex with him. He said he wasn’t gay. At first, I got angry. I felt he had strung me along. With the wine, the meal, and the ridiculous clothes he was wearing. But then I realized there was more to it. He wasn’t gay, but…” Troels hesitated.

“He wanted me to… humiliate him. Sexually, but without us touching. I was allowed to hit him and to verbally abuse him, but I must never touch his dick. He got off on being humiliated. He had tried it with women, but it wasn’t really working for him. So that’s what we did that night. I’ve tried something like that before, but never anything that real. I lived in the US for years and I was a part of that scene, going to S&M clubs, I’ve been the dominant one in all my relationships, the aggressor. But with Johannes it was… so hot. Because it was new for him. Because I was the first.” He glanced shyly at Anna who was sitting very still, staring at the sperm whale on the wall. The noisy children had gone, and a family of four had arrived. The father lifted up the younger boy.

“I hit him, and… no, it doesn’t matter. He masturbated until he climaxed. Obviously I wanted to touch him, but every time I tried, he turned away. He didn’t want me. In the end, I was deeply frustrated. I wanted to have sex with him. I tried, but the magic disappeared. Johannes got upset, went into another room, and told me he was disappointed in me. That it wasn’t what we had agreed. I apologized, but it was no good. He just wanted me to leave. Get out, get out, he whispered. Very quietly, as if I had failed him. So I left. In the days that followed I was beside myself. He was all I could think about. I e-mailed him, but he never replied. On the goth scene I’m known as YourGuy.” Troels peered at Anna. “Most people on the scene have aliases. It’s part of the game. It suited me just fine. Copenhagen is a very small town. And I’ve just come back from abroad and, to be honest, I’m scared shitless of ending up on the front page of the tabloids. ‘Supermodel into S&M’ or something like that. I’m actually quite famous in the US,” he added, “but getting work back here, when I returned last spring, was really tough. But finally I was about to land a huge campaign, a well-paying one, so I preferred going to places where no one cared who I really was. Anyway, Johannes never replied, and I was getting desperate. Then we bumped into each other, accidentally, in a café. He seemed pleased to see me. As though he had forgotten what had gone wrong during our last meeting. He had been busy, that was all. We agreed to meet again, the next day.

“That night I realized the two of you knew each other. He had mentioned you several times that first evening. Anna, my colleague; Anna, the woman I share a study with, without me making the connection. But when we met again, he referred to you as ‘Anna Bella,’ and it clicked that it had to be you. I knew where you lived, and I had meant to get in touch ever since I moved to Copenhagen. Only I was too ashamed. Ashamed I had run away back then. Your parents…” Troels shook his head. “I heard from them for years. They had my address in New York, and they wrote faithfully to me every Christmas and on my birthday. Your mom even sent me an advent calendar one year. They urged me to get in touch if ever I came back to Denmark.” He laughed bitterly. “And I never replied. When I moved to Copenhagen, I thought it would be easier to get ahold of Karen first. I missed you the most, but… Christ, how you freaked out at me that night.” For a moment, he looked at her with tenderness.

“So much that you were afraid you might beat me up?” Anna asked. She felt her anger rise through her shock. It wiped the smile off Troels’s face.

“I don’t know why you had to humiliate me,” he said. “You were just as bad as my dad that night. You kicked me, Anna. You hit me and you screamed. And group sex was a seriously shitty idea. Whose was it?”

“Yours and Karen,” Anna snapped. “You and Karen got the idea, and…” and the words spilled out of her. “You were always trying to shut me out. You became Karen’s best friend just to hurt me. And it was the same that night. I might as well not have been there. And my parents favored you. Poor Troels, he’s such a nice kid, we’ll take good care of lovely, little Troels,” she mimicked. Troels stared at Anna in amazement.

“Anna,” he said softly. “I’ve always loved you more. Karen is my friend, she’s straightforward and uncomplicated. She always was. You had everything I wanted. I worshipped you and I loved your parents. I wanted to live with you, always, be with you always. But there were times I thought you hated me. That night, I thought you hated me. And I couldn’t cope with anymore hatred. I wanted to shut you up, and that’s why I ran. The week before I had knocked out all my dad’s teeth, for fuck’s sake. With a wood plank. He told everyone he had forgotten to wear his seatbelt and had had to brake hard. But it was me. He shut me in the basement and said the most awful things to me, provoked me, baited me, called me queer. Finally, I ripped a shelf off the wall and bashed him across the face with it. I couldn’t take being hated anymore, do you understand? And I was scared of how I might react that night. Really terrified. I’ve thought about it hundreds of times since. How jealous you must have been. You were an only child and always landed on your feet, always, born with a fucking silver spoon in your mouth, and then I come along like the serpent in paradise. By the way, I never understood what your parents saw in me. Since they already had you,” he added. “But…” He fell silent.

“You know nothing about me,” Anna said, quietly. Troels stared ahead with a blank expression, as if he hadn’t heard her.

“During that evening I realized Johannes was in love with you. He talked about you all the time. Not directly… but he would mention your name, no matter what the conversation was about. I would ask questions, from time to time, as though you interested me and he answered them willingly. Very quickly I knew most of it: you had been dumped by your boyfriend, Thomas, who never visited your young daughter, never sent Christmas presents, and only paid basic child support—even though he was a doctor and you were a student—you struggled with your rage; you felt completely powerless; you were about to get your masters; Cecilie had moved to Copenhagen, and your relationship with her was strained. Johannes never found my questions odd—he was quite keen to talk about you. His eyes lit up. It was bizarre. I was madly in love with him, and he was madly in love with you.” Troels smiled. “Seems to be my curse. You get everything I want.

“That night,” he continued, “I crossed the line. Johannes wanted a repeat of last time. Wanted me to abuse him verbally, humiliate him, and slap him. Mostly on his body, but also across his head. He masturbated while I did it, but flinched whenever I tried to touch him. I could do the same, he said. Get my dick out and have a tug. I didn’t want to. I was delirious, a bit drunk and in love. And I was the stronger; I was in charge. I managed to enter him. I held him down. For fuck’s sake, I only lasted five seconds. I came inside him, and he went berserk. He cried; he screamed and threw me out. On the fetish scene this is a total no-no,” Troels muttered, ashamed. “You go right up to the line, but you never cross it without the other person’s consent. Johannes asked me to stop many times that night, but I didn’t listen.

“The days that followed were terrible. I called him. I e-mailed. He didn’t reply. It took a week before I got ahold of him. He sounded really pissed off with me. I had crossed the line, he said. It was unacceptable. The rules had been crystal clear. We were experimenting with the balance of power, but there was to be no direct sexual contact. I had agreed to that. I had broken our deal. He never wanted to see me again.

“Some weeks passed. I met with Karen, twice. I told her I was in love, but that it wasn’t reciprocated. She consoled me.” Troels smiled. “And we talked about you. I asked her if she thought we might be friends again. You and I. The three of us. Asked her how you were. She became a little subdued. Then she told me the two of you hadn’t kept in touch, either. That really surprised me. But she had met Cecilie, and Cecilie had told her you were alone with your daughter. You had had a rough time, Cecilie said, but she made no effort to conceal she and Jens were enormously relieved Thomas was out of your lives. They never liked him. He was highly intelligent, but shallow. That’s how Cecilie had put it. They worried about you, Karen said, and they helped take care of your daughter, Lily. I would like to meet her someday,” he smiled.

“Karen suggested we get in touch with you, but Cecilie asked us to wait until you had defended your dissertation, so we agreed to meet afterward. Karen was wildly excited about our plan. She was missing us so much, she said. Her joy inspired me. One day, I visited Cecilie and had tea with her. It was a lovely afternoon. I apologized for my years of silence, but Cecilie said it didn’t matter. I told her I had had a hard time and asked her not to mention to you that I had been there. I said I wanted it to be a surprise, but really… I was scared you would get angry again. Jealous and angry. That we would end up back where we started. I wanted to establish some ground rules with you. You must never humiliate me again. I can’t take it. In return, I would keep a low profile, as far as your parents were concerned—if that was what you wanted.

“I also went to see Jens. I waited for him outside his office, saw him come out. He had aged, I thought, he looked withered and gray. I followed him home, but I chickened out. So I got in touch with my sister instead. Karen’s joy, Cecilie’s open arms… I got carried away and called my sister. She was as cold as ice. “Don’t you ever call me again,” she said. “Don’t ever come near me or my children, or I’ll call the police.” He smiled, embarrassed. “My dad and I fought when he was in the hospital, terminally ill with cancer; I smashed a vase across his head, and he threw a drawer at me. My sister always got so upset when we fought.” His smile started to fade. “At his funeral, six days later, I still had seven stitches in my forehead from the drawer he’d hurled. I don’t know how he got the strength. He was weak and dying. I still have a scar.” Troels turned to Anna and ran his finger along a thin white line.

“It never occurred to my sister to ask if I was all right. She refused to sit next to me at the funeral. She and her family sat on the opposite pew. Afterward, she came up to me and said if I ever contacted her again, she would have me charged with assault. Our dad was eaten up by cancer, but according to her logic, I had killed him with a vase.” For a moment Troels looked exasperated.

“When I called my sister that evening to attempt a reconciliation, it soon became clear she had no intention of forgiving me. When I hung up, I had a small breakdown. I was thinking about Johannes all the time; I was scared of what I had done, scared he might file charges against me, and all the while I just wanted to be with him. Karen suspected nothing. We met a couple of times; we had coffee and Karen chatted away about the great reunion that was to come. Suddenly, I had to see you. It seemed to be the only right thing to do. Perhaps you could speak to Johannes… I don’t know what I had imagined. I waited for you—twice. Found your address online and got into your building, hoping you would be there. I deliberately didn’t call you first, because I didn’t want you to turn me away. I was convinced that if only I could speak to you, everything would be all right again. I chickened out both times. One time I panicked. The woman below you came up to check on your daughter. I found out you had gone for a run. She left the door open, and I followed her in. I sat down and pretended to be an old friend. She threw me out. Told me I had to wait outside. She gave me such a hostile and suspicious look, her eyes flashed as if she had seen through me, caught me in the act. That’s when I panicked. I ran down the stairs and suddenly I heard you come back. The door downstairs opened, you were out of breath, I could hear that it was you. You coughed. I hid in the meter box. You and your neighbor looked for me, as if I were a criminal, as if I were a danger to others.” His voice sounded tired. “Just like when we were back at school, right? My dad had to be strict or he wouldn’t be able to control me, he told my teachers. No, of course he didn’t hit me. But he made himself clear, he assured them, he set boundaries. They understood that. They, too, had a job controlling me. Your parents were the only people who didn’t buy the story.

“I curled up inside the meter box, and you walked right past me. When I heard your footsteps above, I got out and ran. I found myself in Vesterbro. In front of Johannes’s building. I looked up at his windows. The light was on, and after a while Johannes appeared—he was on the phone. I stood outside for a while, then I knocked on his door. And when he answered it, I forced my way in. I had called him every day for two weeks, I had sent flowers, I had begged for his forgiveness, and sent him several e-mails. I had heard nothing from him.

“He was very scared when I got inside his apartment. I’m much bigger than he is, that’s what made it so perfect between us. I got aroused. There was something in his eyes; I caught a glimpse of something in his eyes. He wants me to, I thought. He wants to be dominated, controlled, humiliated; at that moment everything became clear. He had tricked me, tricked me good.” Troels’s eyes shone now.

Anna carefully slipped her hand inside her pocket and shivered, as though she was cold.

“I closed the door behind me and unzipped my jeans. It was what he wanted. I felt so sure. He walked backward, just as he was supposed to. I held my dick, I rubbed it, while I ordered him to take off his clothes and told him to suck me off. He was good at acting scared, he got it just right. He resisted. I called him lots of names… and suddenly I came. All over my hand and the floor. I buckled, consumed by a deep urge to hug him, to snuggle up. I closed my eyes for a second and when I looked at him again, he was armed. I don’t know where he got it from, but he was holding a knife. His eyes grew black. I said something. I raised my hands. ‘You mustn’t threaten me,’ I said. I wanted him to calm down, but he attacked me. Waved the knife in the air, stabbing at me. I tried to warn him, told him to put down the knife, to stop. His tenderness was gone, as was the fragility, which I loved about him. His voice had changed, too. It was dark and strange. He wouldn’t stop. He came closer to me wielding the knife and ordered me to leave. He screamed in a high-pitched voice, I felt drops of spit on my cheek.” Troels glanced at Anna.

“This time I didn’t run. I wanted him to shut up. He had to shut up.” Troels fell silent.

Anna got hold of one of the cable ties in her pocket and curled it up so it lay like a coiled snake in her hand. She pretended she wanted to change position and leaned forward. Her heart was pounding.

“Afterward I visited Jens,” Troels said, casually. “I don’t know how I got there, but suddenly I found myself in front of his building, without my jacket, my trousers soaked. All I could think was that I was about to be arrested. I wanted to talk to Jens first. Just talk to him. So we talked. For hours. I calmed down a little; I thought it possible that Johannes mightn’t have been seriously hurt. Did I even hit him? I started to have doubts. Jens poured me a whiskey, he lent me some clothes. You’ve got great parents, Anna.”

Anna nodded.

“They’re very fond of you, too,” she said, kindly.

“I’m leaving soon and I won’t be coming back. I don’t want to go to jail.” He laughed a brittle laugh. “I’ve been in prison all my life.”

“Why did you text me?” Anna wanted to know.

“Do you know what a big thing it was to me that we had a falling out? Massive. I didn’t want to leave without seeing you first. I wanted to unburden myself, tell you I didn’t mean to do it. Not then, not now. I don’t think you’ll betray me again,” he said. “I don’t think you’ll get up now and betray me again.” He smiled a crooked smile. “I think you’ve changed. Your little girl. I must meet her sometime.”

“I knew you did it.”

“Yes, I’m impressed.” He smiled again. “I thought it would take you longer. What did I write?”

“That you were trying to tell me something,” Anna replied. “It was the way you phrased it. But that’s not why. It was when you mentioned Johannes by name. When we met last Friday. You knew his name. You pretended that Karen had told you.” Anna turned to Troels and her eyes glowed yellow. “But Karen didn’t know his name. So how could you? Suddenly, it all made sense. You waiting for me; you showing up everywhere. Karen met you, Jens met you, and so did Cecilie, apparently. And Johannes’s stalker…. At first I thought it was a girl, but when the police told me they were looking for a man… YourGuy. That was one coincidence too many.”

Troels gave Anna a rather drowsy look.

“Did he really say that?” he said, dully. “That I was stalking him?”

Anna leaned toward her friend.

“And you’re right. I won’t betray you again,” she said, softly into his ear. Troels turned to face her. His eyes were shiny.

“I’m sorry about Johannes,” he whispered. “I love him. I hope he gets better. I hope he’s not too upset.”

“He’s dead, Troels,” Anna said, gently. “Johannes is dead.”

Troels stared vacantly at her, then he turned away and Anna knew he was about to leave. This was the moment when she mustn’t betray him.

It only took ten seconds. She rested her full weight on his arm, blocking his view with her body, then she slipped the cable tie over his arm, looped it around a slat, and clicked it shut. He grunted, not realizing why she was lying across him. She pulled hard, he yanked back his arm, “What the hell are you doing?” Shit, she was too late, someone screamed. It wasn’t until she found herself on the floor three feet away, dazed and brandishing the screwdriver, that she discovered she was the one who was screaming. Troels thrashed about and tried to stand up. The bench groaned ominously. Anna gasped for air. The loop was tight, but Troels pulled at it. He shouted. Called her names. Threatened her. “I’ll kill you,” he screamed. “I’ll kill your kid.” People came running. The loop started to give. The plastic stretched white. She returned to him. He lashed out at her with his free arm, kicked her. Punched her on the side on her head. She saw stars. She forced herself to focus and slithered under the bench, where she looped the second cable tie around his arm, pulled it through the back of the bench, and tightened it. He lashed out again, stabbing a bent index finger against her temple, a direct hit. His arm started to go red. Anna rolled out of reach. His whole arm was tethered to the bench now. A crowd had gathered. “What’s going on?” someone shouted. Anna got out her cell, her hands were shaking. He answered it immediately.

“Søren,” Anna said. “Help me.”

Anna left the museum before the police arrived and ran down Jagtvejen, where she jumped on a bus. She was incandescent with rage when she rang Hanne Moritzen’s doorbell.

“Why is everyone lying to me?” she yelled when Hanne had let her in. Anna stamped her feet. Then she saw the look on Hanne’s face.

“Why did you lie about having a son?” she continued, somewhat appeased. “With Professor Helland! It makes no sense. Why didn’t you tell me?”

They were in the large white hall, the door to the living room was ajar, and Anna could see a white, comfortable sofa and a brass dish with polished seashells. Suddenly, Hanne slumped to her knees. She grabbed Anna’s hands, pressed them against her face, and the noise that erupted from her throat cut Anna to the quick. Shocked, Anna helped her into the living room. They sat down on the sofa and Anna let Hanne cling to her, realizing how close she was to solving the mystery. When Hanne had calmed down, she told Anna about her son.

“It’s my fault,” she said. “I thought if I buried it, it would go away. It’s all my fault.”

Anna didn’t contradict her.

They spoke for almost two hours. At the end, Hanne asked Anna to go to the police.

“I can’t report my own son,” she whispered. When Anna had agreed, Hanne asked, “Would you like to see a picture of him?”

Anna nodded and Hanne fetched a box full of photographs. Anna had expected a recent photograph of the Asger Moritzen who apparently worked three floors above his mother, whom Anna must surely have passed in the corridors at the institute or might even have had as her dissection tutor on an Introductory Morphology course. But the box Hanne brought out contained pictures of Asger as a child. Photos of a smiling dark-eyed toddler with his mouth open, shiny saliva dribbling down his chin and a stripy rattle in his chubby hand; winter pictures of a child in a snowsuit with open and inquisitive eyes, like blotting paper, completely unspoiled.

“I have to get back to Lily,” she whispered.

Hanne and Anna said good-bye in the doorway. Hanne refused to let go of her.

“I’ll be there for you, I promise,” Anna said.

Hanne smiled feebly and released Anna’s hands.

“I’ll call the police when I get back,” she went on, “and you’ll take it from there, okay?”

Hanne Moritzen nodded.

Anna walked down Falkoner Allé, crossed Jagtvejen, and went around the National Archives. She felt relieved and calm.

She unlocked the entrance door and for a moment she stared into the darkness, her hand on the door handle, then she opened the door and walked up the stairs. She could hear singing from a children’s television program and something that sounded like an exuberant child bouncing up and down.

It was nearly over. All she had left to do was to meet with Professor Freeman tomorrow.