Mikkel Birkegaard - The Library of Shadows

There was a knock on the open door and Jenny appeared with coffee and mineral water, which she set down on the table without saying a word. A moment later she returned, this time accompanied by Remer.

The man was about fifty, his grey hair in a crew-cut, which made him look like a stern colonel. If it weren't for his lively, genial eyes, the stories about him might have stemmed from his appearance alone, but his eyes softened the harsh face, and a broad smile with strikingly white teeth also had its effect.

'Remer,' he said, holding out his hand towards Jon.

'Jon Campelli,' said Jon, grasping his hand.

Remer had a firm grip, and he kept his eyes fixed on Jon as they shook hands. 'Campelli?' he said. 'Is that Italian?'

'Correct,' replied Jon. 'My father was Italian. Please have a seat.'

'I prefer to stand,' said Remer casually. 'Lovely place, Italy. I've just come from there. Or rather from Sicily, to be more precise.'

'Would you care for something to drink?' asked Jon, gesturing towards the refreshments on the meeting table.

'No, thanks,' replied Remer. 'I can't stay long.'

'Then we'd better get down to business…' suggested Jon amiably as he sat down at the table.

'Campelli,' Remer repeated to himself, glancing up at the ceiling. 'I've heard that name recently.'

Jon cleared his throat and leafed through the documents in front of him. 'I have a number of questions, especially regarding the purchase of Vestjysk Piping in '92-'

'Books!' exclaimed Remer, snapping his fingers. 'It was the man with the books. Luca was his name.' He turned to look at Jon. 'Is Luca someone in your family?'

'Yes, Luca was my father,' replied Jon. 'He died a week ago.'

Remer opened his eyes wide. 'I'm sorry to hear that,' he said, sounding sincere. 'What a sad coincidence. He owned a bookshop, didn't he?'

Jon nodded. 'Libri di Luca in Vesterbro.'

'I've never been there myself,' Remer admitted as he walked around the room. 'It was one of my business associates who happened to mention your father's name.'

Jon studied Remer as he moved along the walls, peering at the paintings. He wore a black jacket, a white shirt without a tie and a pair of dark jeans. His attire sent a rather confusing signal for a business meeting, but that was clearly not the reason he was here. Whether he had a genuine interest in Jon's familial relationships or was just testing him, only Remer himself knew for sure.

'He owns a couple of bookshops, my business associate,' he went on. 'Hugely successful, as I understand it. Something of a book empire, with Internet shops, book clubs and catalogues.' He gave a short laugh. 'Considering the fact that books have frequently been declared dead, there's surprisingly good money to be made.'

He stopped his roaming and rested his hands on the back of the chair across from Jon. Then he leaned forward.

'Well, Jon. What do you have in mind?'

For an instant his expression changed, his eyes shifting from sparkling and friendly to scrutinizing. Jon instinctively reached up to straighten his tie.

'I'd like to start with-' he began, but Remer once again interrupted him.

'May I ask you a personal question, Jon?' He didn't wait for an answer but pulled himself upright and crossed his arms before he went on. 'What's going to happen to the shop?'

'Er, the bookshop?' asked Jon in surprise. 'I haven't decided yet.'

'But it's yours? Luca left the business to you?'

'As the sole family member, yes.'

'Allow me to make a suggestion.' Remer unfolded his arms. 'I can put you in contact with my friend, the bookseller. I'm positive he'd give you a good price for Libri di Luca.' He broke out in a big smile. 'Unless you're planning to set yourself up as a bookmonger, that is?'

Jon smiled. 'No, that's not exactly what I had in mind. But as I said, I haven't yet decided.'

'A word of advice, Jon,' Remer admonished him. 'Stick to what you're good at. I'm good at making deals. You're good at helping get someone like me out of difficulties. But we'll never be bookdealers, neither of us.' He laughed. 'Make some good money by selling the shop, and let my friend take Libri di Luca into the twenty-first century. That would have pleased your father, don't you think?'

'I'm not so sure about that.' Even though he had no idea whether Luca might have made use of computers and the Internet over the past years, Jon found it most unlikely. The very image of a PC in Libri di Luca seemed absurd. It would be like sending a jet back to the Middle Ages.

'Well, surely he was a businessman too,' Remer insisted. 'He would have loved the idea of a shared warehouse for a whole chain of antiquarian bookshops, of an enormous selection of works and search possibilities so that customers would never look in vain but could order their valuable books directly from their home computers.'

'I thought the charm of an antiquarian bookshop was that you spend a whole lot of time poking about and finding surprises.'

'Oh, sure, by all means. There also has to be opportunity to do that. The shop wouldn't be closed, of course. Just think of it as an expansion.'

Jon held up his hands defensively. 'I promise I'll think about it, when the time comes. But right now I'm going to wait and see.'

'Fair enough. But give me a ring when you've made a decision.' He took a business card out of his inside pocket and tossed it onto the table.

'I'll do that. So, shall we get started?'

Remer glanced at his watch. 'I'm going to have to leave now, Jon. It was a pleasure meeting you.' He reached across the table towards Jon who, greatly astonished, stood up and shook hands.

'I'll see myself out,' said Remer over his shoulder, already on his way out of the meeting room.

Jon sank down on his chair and stared at the door in bewilderment. He felt as if he'd just been visited by a tornado. Remer had done his job and then vanished again like a whirlwind. The question was, what job had he done? Did he merely want to have a look at the 'new guy', and then found himself tempted by a potential deal with the bookshop, or was that his real purpose all along? Jon picked up the card his client had left and studied it. There was nothing more than Remer's name and a couple of phone numbers. No logo, company name or even his first name. Anyone with a computer and a printer could have made something comparable in two minutes.

He stood up and started packing up his things.

'How did it go?' asked Jenny, appearing in the doorway.

'I don't really know,' Jon replied honestly. 'But at least my tie is still intact.'

Jenny laughed and turned to leave.

'By the way, Jenny.' The secretary turned to face him. 'Have you ever seen Remer before?'

She thought for a moment before she shook her head. 'No. I think they usually have their meetings in town.'

'Okay, thanks,' said Jon as he began pushing the trolley with the folders out of the room and towards his office.

It had occurred to him that he had never seen Remer either. After locking himself into the Remer office, he went straight over to the filing cabinet which held newspaper clippings. That was where all the media mentions were kept, and he quickly leafed through the folders. A moment later he found what he was looking for. Only a few of the articles were accompanied by photos, but there was one taken outside the court with Remer in profile on his way up the steps.

It was him, no doubt about it. There was no mistaking that distinctive haircut and the resolute expression. The tornadowas Remer – for Jon that decided the matter. As the files indicated, Remer was a particularly zealous businessman with his fingers deep in everything that smelled of money. It didn't matter what type of business, so why not an antiquarian bookshop, when he just happened to come across it during a meeting with his lawyer?