The Library of Shadows

31

Katherina was not entirely sure how she had managed to get out of the school building. It was dark and her vision was clouded with tears, but somehow she had found her way up from the basement and out into the cool night air. There she had paused for a moment to get her bearings. When she heard voices and people come running from the school, she raced to the front of the building, through the schoolyard and out of the gate. Since she didn't have the car keys, that means of escape wasn't an option, so she kept on running, turning the corner at the first side street. There she stopped and pressed her back against some shrubbery as she gasped for air and tried to listen.

Only a second later she heard the front gate of the school open, followed by shouts and footsteps. Judging by the voices, there were at least three people. When she heard steps approaching, she took off running again. Behind her someone started yelling, and she ran even faster. The streets in the neighbourhood were dimly lit, and she turned down one narrow side street after another, making it possible for her to stay out of view. After a few minutes she slowed down and looked back. She stopped in the darkness between two street lights and watched as a figure appeared at the end of the street. The person paused to peer in each of the three directions offered by the intersection.

All of a sudden a dog started barking right behind Katherina and she screamed in fright. The dark shape of a big dog threw itself in a frenzy at the hedge separating them, snarling as if it were a matter of life and death. The figure at the end of the street immediately turned in Katherina's direction, and she forced herself to start running again. Her heart was pounding in her chest and it took all the self-discipline she could muster not to slow down. The footsteps behind her were getting closer, and she could clearly hear the panting of her pursuer. She turned at the next corner and ran fifteen or twenty metres to the middle of the street before slipping through a bicycle blockade. The person chasing her swore loudly. It was a man, and by the sound of it he had taken a fall, but she wasted no time in looking back.

After the bicycle blockade the street got wider, and the buildings changed from mansions to blocks of flats. Katherina was incapable of running any further; her legs could hardly hold her up, and she was more or less stumbling her way forward.

Suddenly someone stepped out of an entrance and blocked her way with arms thrown wide. There was no room to stop, and she ran right into the person, who was almost knocked over. For a moment she got tangled up in the stranger's clothes, and a smell of smoke, beer and sweat filled her nostrils.

'This way, come in here,' said a man's voice and she was pulled through a doorway.

Katherina allowed herself to be hauled along, not voluntarily but because she didn't have the strength to do anything else. She heard the door closing behind them.

'Damn it, Ole,' cried a hoarse woman's voice. 'Didn't I just tell you to go on home? We're closed.'

The man holding Katherina's arm guided her over to a chair and made her sit down.

'Gerly, you can see for yourself that she needs help,' he said in a voice that sounded as if he'd been on a drinking binge for days. 'Besides… besides, I happen to know this young lady.'

Katherina was so out of breath she couldn't focus properly and she was in no condition to confirm the man's claim. Instead, she leaned over the table and buried her head in her arms.

'Okay, Ole,' said the woman. 'But you're not getting anything else to drink.'

A door opened and Katherina gave a start.

'Out!' shouted the woman behind her. 'We're closed.'

Another man's voice, panting for air, started to protest from the doorway, but he was instantly cut off.

'We're closed, I said. Come back around noon.'

The door slammed shut and was noisily bolted.

Katherina could no longer hold back her tears; she started to sob so hard that her whole body shook. She had never seriously believed that the situation would be so dangerous. The fact that she'd been forced to abandon Jon and flee seemed utterly unreal and inconceivable, when she thought about how invincible she had felt when they were together. Katherina felt Ole's hand on her shoulder. He patted her gently, but that just made everything worse.

'Well, a cup of coffee probably wouldn't hurt,' said the woman behind them. The sound of clattering cups and the hiss of the coffeemaker felt as consoling as if someone had hugged her. Her sobs soon subsided to a faint sniffling. Slowly she lifted her head from the table and looked around.

She was sitting in a well-worn pub with heavy wooden tables and chairs upholstered in red leather. A massive bar lined one whole wall and behind it stood the woman called Gerly – a short, stout woman with a ruddy face and eyes that could undoubtedly tame even the most drunken of customers. She came over with two cups of black coffee, which she carefully set on the table.

Next to Katherina sat her rescuer, a skinny, hollow-cheeked man wearing a crumpled suit over a shirt that had once been white but was now a nicotine-stained yellow.

She realized that she knew him.

This man, Ole, was a receiver. The same receiver that Jon had mentioned meeting in the Clean Glass pub after Luca's funeral. She hadn't seen him often. He preferred to take his problems to places like this, but she was positive it was him.

He must have seen the glimmer of recognition in her eyes because he gave her a knowing wink and smiled broadly, revealing two rows of yellow teeth.

'Not bad coffee, Gerly,' said Ole loudly, taking another gulp from his cup.

'Huh. You should try it more often. Then you might even be decent company.' Gerly turned her attention to Katherina. 'Feeling better, luv?'

Katherina nodded and picked up her cup in both hands. The heat felt soothing against her fingers, and she closed her eyes as she took a cautious sip.

'Men are a bunch of bastards,' Gerly went on. 'Nothing but rapists, the whole lot of them. They should all be castrated, in my opinion.'

'Then you wouldn't even have been conceived,' declared Ole, laughing loudly.

'Now don't get started, wise guy. You should see about taking the girl over to the police station instead of trying to be funny.'

Katherina shook her head. 'That's not necessary,' she said quickly. 'I'm fine.'

Gerly studied her intently. 'Are you sure? They shouldn't get off so easy, those fucking bastards.'

'I'm okay,' said Katherina, sniffling. 'Nothing happened.'

Gerly grunted something incomprehensible and went back behind the bar, where she started cleaning up.

'I'll be happy to take you over there,' said Ole, even though his eyes were bleary, and it probably wasn't where he really wanted to be going just then.

'I can't go to the police,' whispered Katherina. 'But I have to get in touch with Clara as soon as possible.'

Ole nodded firmly and sat up straight. 'I'll get a cab.'

He stood up and tottered over to the bar, where he launched into a discussion with Gerly.

Katherina didn't know what she should do. Maybe the police were the only resort right now, but she couldn't face trying to explain the whole situation while Jon was so near and in need of her help. Clara would know how to get him back.

The discussion at the bar had ended with Gerly giving in and ringing the cab company herself. Ole came back to Katherina and downed the last of his coffee.

'We have to go out the back way,' he said, casting a glance at the windows. 'Come on.'

'Take care of yourself, luv,' said Gerly, giving Katherina a nod.

She stood up and followed Ole to a door at the very back of the pub. A faded sign indicated that this was the way to the toilets, and when he pushed open the door she had no doubt the sign was right. The rank smell made her hold her breath. Ole led her over to a narrow back door, which he wrestled with for a moment before it opened with a loud creak.

The back courtyard was quite large – that much Katherina could see even in the dark. As she followed Ole she eyed the few windows that had lights on in the surrounding flats. She wondered how people could get up and go off to work as if nothing had happened. Didn't they realize what was going on in their own neighbourhood? Didn't they know what was at stake?

Ole staggered onward until they reached a dark doorway that opened onto the street. Katherina's rescuer cursed when he couldn't find the door handle. He was moving much too slowly for Katherina, so she gently pushed him aside and opened the door herself.

Unlike the courtyard, the street was brightly lit, and she pressed her back against the wall as soon as she stepped out. Ole practically fell over her, and for a moment he stood in the middle of the pavement, swaying ominously.

'So where's the cab?' whispered Katherina as loudly as she dared.

'It's supposed to be right here,' replied Ole, staggering around until he had to stop so as not to fall. 'Nordre Frihavnsgade. Right here.'

A black car sped past them and Katherina instinctively pressed her body closer to the wall.

'Over here!' shouted Ole, taking a step towards the kerb as he waved his arms overhead. 'We're over here!' A cab pulled up and stopped in front of them.

Katherina quickly stepped away from the doorway and grabbed Ole before he fell. The cab driver opened the window and stuck out his head.

'You are needing help?' he asked in broken Danish.

'Could you just open the door?' said Katherina as she manoeuvred her rescuer towards the back of the vehicle.

The driver got out and opened the door in one fluid motion. Katherina shoved Ole inside, and he collapsed onto the back seat, muttering gratefully. Then she dashed around to the other side and got in next to the driver.

'That is lucky, you are with him,' said the man as he started driving. 'We do not take his kind at this time.'

Katherina didn't have the strength to protest. She merely told him the address of Clara's terraced house in Valby.

The sun had come up by the time Katherina awoke. Thin strips of sunlight were coming through the white slats of the blinds. Still wearing her jeans and T-shirt, she was lying underneath a cream-coloured blanket on a sofa with big, soft cushions with a floral pattern.

The sunroom was where Clara spent most of her time five months of the year, using the rest of the house mostly for sleeping and for storing food. She did her cooking outdoors on a grill or over a small campfire. The walls of the sunroom were covered with white-painted panelling, and flowerpots hung from every beam on the ceiling. All the windowsills were filled with plants too.

Katherina had been here many times before, but she'd never spent the night. She couldn't even remember falling asleep.

When she'd climbed out of the taxi, it was still night, and Clara's house was in darkness. In the meantime, Ole had come to and insisted on continuing on to his own place. Katherina didn't have the energy either to object or to thank him, and the cab drove off, leaving her alone on the pavement.

As she walked up the garden path, she repeated her wish that Clara would be there. She didn't know what she would do if nobody was home. After ringing the bell several times, Clara finally opened the door, and Katherina threw herself sobbing into the arms of the astonished woman.

For several minutes all Katherina could do was cry. She was led over to the sofa in the sunroom, still clinging to Clara. After recovering enough to be able to speak, Katherina asked for a glass of water, which Clara brought at once. She drank most of the water and then began describing the night's events.

Clara listened attentively. All sign of fatigue was gone from her face and she patted Katherina on the shoulder to keep her telling the story. When Pau's betrayal was revealed to her, Clara swore loudly. She had to get up to pace back and forth in order to contain her fury.

'That little…' she snarled. 'There's always been something fishy about him.' She brought her temper under control when she noticed from Katherina's face that there was more bad news. She sat down on the sofa again. 'Sorry. Go on.'

It was difficult for Katherina to describe what had happened during the test, and she broke down again when she got to the part about leaving Jon behind in the basement.

Clara brought Katherina some more water and tried to reassure her.

'There was nothing you could do,' she said, putting her arm round Katherina. 'If you had stayed, they would have been able to use you against him. Now they don't have anything to use as a bargaining chip.'

Katherina sniffled. 'But what if they kill him?'

'They won't,' said Clara firmly. 'They need him for something; I have a strong feeling about that. Something that only he can help them with.'

Whether it was Clara's soothing words or the exhaustion after the events of the night that made Katherina fall asleep, she had no idea. But she didn't remember anything else.

She could hear voices coming from inside the house. One of them belonged to Clara.

'Was it really necessary to sedate her?' said the other voice, which Katherina immediately recognized as Iversen's.

'She was really at her wits' end,' replied Clara. 'You should have seen her. She needed to get some rest, but she was too upset to fall asleep on her own. Sometimes the body needs to rest before the mind can calm down.'

'If you say so,' Iversen said, not sounding convinced.

Katherina heard footsteps approaching.

'How long will she be out?' asked Iversen.

'I'm awake,' said Katherina, turning towards the door.

Clara pushed past Iversen and hurried over to the sofa. 'Are you feeling all right?'

Katherina nodded. 'What time is it?'

Iversen sat down in an armchair across from her. The chair was covered with a multi-coloured crocheted blanket.

'It's ten in the morning,' he said, casting a glance at Clara. 'You've been asleep for nearly thirty hours.'

'Thirty hours!' cried Katherina, jumping up from the sofa. 'How could you…' She stopped as everything went black before her eyes and she had to sink back down on the sofa.

'It was for your own good,' Clara assured Katherina, taking her hands. 'You needed to rest.'

Katherina pulled her hands away.

'But what about Jon?' she said. 'We have to find Jon.'

'We're working on that,' Iversen reassured her. 'All of Remer's residences are under surveillance. As soon as he shows up-'

'Has he disappeared?' said Katherina.

Iversen nodded and looked down at his hands, which he had clasped in front of him.

'But what about the school?' said Katherina. 'We have to go back to the school.'

'The school burned down, Katherina,' said Clara and then hurried to add, 'But there weren't any victims. The building burned to the ground only a few hours after you escaped.'

'The fire department thinks it was due to faulty electrical wiring,' Iversen interjected. 'They realized quickly that it was a lost cause, so they concentrated on keeping the fire contained to the school.'

'They're in the process of erasing their tracks,' said Katherina. She looked at Iversen and Clara. They both nodded.

'There's been another fire,' said Iversen. 'Kortmann's villa went up in flames the same night. Kortmann's body was found in the ashes of the library. They think the cause of the fire was a smouldering cigarette.'

Katherina thought back to her last visit to the villa in Hellerup. Henning had carried Kortmann's body into the library, where he had now been cremated, as if on a funeral pyre.

'But he was hanged,' she protested. 'Surely they must be able to see that. The marks on his neck, no smoke in his lungs.'

'Nothing has come out about the circumstances surrounding his death,' said Clara. 'I wouldn't be at all surprised if Remer has contacts inside the police force and is able to influence the investigation.'

'And Remer hasn't been seen since?'

'No,' replied Iversen. 'It's as if he's dropped off the face of the earth. We've rung all the phone numbers listed in the documents about him, but we keep getting the same answer: "Remer is unavailable." ' He threw out his hands. 'As I said, we're keeping his residences under surveillance. In fact, I'm due to relieve Henning in a bit. Don't worry, he's bound to turn up sooner or later.'

Katherina wrung her hands. Sooner or later wasn't good enough. Jon was being held prisoner somewhere out there because she'd left him in the lurch. Unless he agreed to cooperate, it was just a matter of time before Remer would give up and need to get rid of Jon for good. She felt anger welling up inside her. Why had they let her sleep so long? Why hadn't they done more to find Jon?

'We've done what we could,' said Iversen, as if he'd read her thoughts. 'You have to believe us. We even considered going to the police to tell them the whole story.'

'But we gave up that idea pretty quickly,' said Clara. 'It wouldn't help Jon, and Remer's contacts would probably be able to prevent anything from being done about the case.'

Katherina realized they were right. With the information they had at their disposal, they couldn't have done anything more than they had. Her anger was replaced by frustration. What could she do? She had to do something. It was too painful to sit here waiting for Remer to turn up, if he ever did decide to reappear.

'What about Pau?' she asked, sounding agitated.

Iversen shook his head. 'The bedsit where he lived is empty. No one has seen him for the past three days.' He sighed. 'And of course Pau wasn't his real name, so that lead ends in a blind alley like all the others.'

Katherina slowly stood up. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she just couldn't sit here any longer. If she had to search all of Copenhagen to find Jon, she would do it. Anything but remaining passive.

'I'm going home,' she said.

Clara was about to object, but Katherina cut her off.

'It's okay. I'm fine.'

'I'll drive you,' said Iversen, getting to his feet.

'That'd be great. Thanks,' said Katherina as she gave Clara a hug. 'Thanks for everything, Clara.'

'If there's anything I can do, just let me know.'

Katherina nodded. Accompanied by Iversen, she walked through the house and out of the front door. The grass in the little front garden had been recently mown, and it reminded her of summer even though it was mid-autumn. On the pavement at the end of the path lay a bin bag that someone had tipped over, spilling rubbish all over the flagstones. Envelopes, coffee grounds and milk cartons were all jumbled together, soiling the pavement in that impeccable residential neighbourhood.

It was possible to tell a great deal about a person from the contents of his dustbin.

Now Katherina knew who would be able to help her.

Mehmet opened his eyes wide in astonishment when he saw Katherina standing outside his garden door. She had allowed Iversen to drive her home but then went straight to the bicycle shed in the basement to get out her mountain bike and head over to Nшrrebro. Something had kept her from telling Iversen about her plans, maybe because she needed to carry them out on her own.

'Well, if it isn't the Lawman's girlfriend,' declared Mehmet as he pushed open the door. He scanned the yard. 'Have you given Jon the slip?'

'You might say that,' replied Katherina, trying to smile. 'I need your help.'

Mehmet gave her a friendly smile as he studied her face inquisitively.

'Sure. Come on in.'

The living room still resembled a warehouse, with boxes against all the walls and cluttering the floor in teetering piles. Just inside the door stood a complete golf set, including bag, clubs and even a tweed sixpence cap hanging from the handle of one of the clubs. Katherina pulled out a club, weighing it in her hands.

'Do you play golf?' asked Mehmet with hope in his voice. 'I can let you have the set cheap.'

'No, I'm afraid not,' replied Katherina.

'I didn't think so,' said Mehmet. 'But that's not why you're here, is it?'

Katherina put the golf club back and shook her head. 'I need you to track down a couple of people for me.'

'No problem.' Mehmet sat down in front of his computer and interlocked his fingers at the same time as he stretched out his arms. His fingers produced an audible crack, and he smiled.

'I need to know where they are right now. You don't have to waste any time on their histories.'

Mehmet nodded.

'First of all, Otto Remer,' said Katherina, pausing as Mehmet typed the name into his computer. 'Next, a man in his mid-thirties who works as a chauffeur for William Kortmann.'

Mehmet's fingers flew over the keyboard as he repeated what she had said. Then he nodded.

'Anyone else?' he asked, looking at her.

'The last one is Jon Campelli,' said Katherina, fixing her eyes on him.

'Jon Campelli?' Mehmet repeated after several seconds. 'You want me to find Jon Campelli?'

Katherina nodded. She could feel her throat closing up at the sound of his name.

'I realize that I said I didn't want to know what you two are mixed up in,' said Mehmet sombrely. 'But what's going on? Did he run off? If he doesn't want to be found, I can't help you.'

Katherina cleared her throat. 'Jon is being held against his will,' she said. 'By the two men I just mentioned.'

Mehmet frowned but otherwise didn't move.

'Otto Remer is the head of a criminal organization that will stop at nothing,' Katherina went on. 'It's extremely important that we find Jon as quickly as possible, or else…' She felt the tears welling up. 'Or else they're going to hurt him.'

Mehmet gave a big sigh. 'What the hell have you got yourselves into?' he said. 'I heard that Jon was fired, and now this.' He shook his head. 'Why don't you go to the police?'

'It's a long story,' said Katherina. 'And we're wasting time.'

Mehmet nodded and turned to look at the monitor in front of him.

'Okay then,' he said. 'Let's find our friend.'

The waiting was awful. Katherina had nothing to contribute other than to answer the questions that Mehmet occasionally asked. Otherwise the only sound in the room was the clacking of the keyboard. Mehmet had switched off his mobile phone after the first time it rang, and Katherina didn't want to disturb his concentration. He was her only chance.

While Mehmet worked, Katherina walked around the room, unable to sit still. She examined the assorted wares in the boxes, again amazed that anyone could make enough to live on by entering contests. Jon had told her about a Japanese TV show in which the participants were locked inside a flat and had to live off whatever they were able to win in contests, either over the Internet or from coupons. Most people had to give up from lack of food.

Now and then she slipped behind Mehmet to peek at the computer screens, but even if she'd been able to read, she was convinced that she still wouldn't have understood a thing. Numbers and symbols scrolled up the three screens at a speed that made it impossible to catch the meaning, and Mehmet's fingers danced over the keyboard.

'Okay,' he announced after searching for nearly an hour and a half. 'I know where he is, but you're not going to like it.'

Katherina went over to the table to look at the monitors. One of them showed a world map covered with lines.

'I checked the airports,' Mehmet began. 'No trace of Otto Remer, but Jon flew…' He set the tip of his finger on Denmark. From there numerous lines reached out to destinations all over the world. 'From Kastrup airport to…' He moved his finger south along one of the lines.

Katherina opened her eyes wide.

'That can't be right,' she said.