Mikkel Birkegaard - The Library of Shadows

For the second time that day Jon shook his head at his own paranoia, and it wasn't even ten o'clock.

Katherina was about to leave when she happened to glance through the windows of Libri di Luca. There was Luca's son. He was standing at the counter, talking to Iversen, who was repeatedly shaking his head. Because of the darkness, they wouldn't be able to see her, and she could easily disappear without them noticing. Her hand rested on the door handle, and she couldn't decide whether to go in or turn round.

Acting as a receiver could be quite an intimate experience. In addition to the images conjured up by the text, she could pick up small glimpses of the reader's personality as well, fragments that revealed the person's character traits and frame of mind. Ever since the demonstration she'd felt uncomfortable about being in Jon's presence. She had a feeling she knew something she shouldn't, something even he didn't know. During their little show she was both surprised and startled by what she sensed in Jon, but she had no idea what to do about her discovery. Many people didn't like finding out exactly how much her abilities allowed her to comprehend.

She took a deep breath and pushed open the door. The two men turned to face her.

'Hi, Katherina,' Iversen said. Jon merely gave her a brief nod.

Katherina returned their greetings and closed the door behind her.

'Maybe you know him, Katherina,' exclaimed Iversen, pointing at a photocopy lying on the counter. 'His name is Remer. Does that ring a bell?'

She went over to the counter and studied the picture of a man in his forties, making his way up a stairway. Katherina shook her head.

'No, I've never seen him before. Who is he?'

'A client,' replied Jon. 'But he seems to know quite a lot about Libri di Luca, and about Luca.'

'He wants to buy the place,' added Iversen.

She looked in alarm at Iversen, who instantly raised his hands in a reassuring gesture.

'Don't worry, the shop hasn't been sold. Not yet, at any rate.'

'The prospective buyer is actually one of Remer's friends, not him,' explained Jon. 'Apparently he already has a whole chain of stores, as well as an Internet shop. Does that sound familiar?'

Iversen grumbled affirmatively. 'There are a couple of major players in the market, including a few who have previously made your father an offer to take over Libri di Luca, but he always turned them down. Under no circumstances did he want to leave the shop to that sort.'

'What's your position?' asked Jon.

'In my opinion Libri di Luca doesn't belong anywhere near a computer. How can you evaluate the quality of a book without holding it in your own hands?' He shook his head. 'Most of our customers come here for the sake of the atmosphere. We can't leave them in the lurch.'

Katherina agreed with Iversen on that point. Libri di Luca was a free zone, and she, if anyone, knew the pleasure of wandering among the walls of books, holding a fine-quality volume in her hands. Even though she had great difficulty reading the words herself, she loved to touch the paper they were printed on, and the binding that protected them. Since the contents were inaccessible to her, she had to make do with the medium that held the words, feeling neither bitterness nor sorrow, but rather a fascination with the materials and the craftsmanship.

'So, what do you think?' asked Jon. 'What's this man's interest in the shop?'

Iversen and Katherina exchanged looks. She could see that he was burning to tell Jon what he knew, yet at the same time he feared there were limits to what should be revealed to an outsider. In fact, Jon already knew far too much, more than enough to be a security risk for the Society.

'Well, I think his interest primarily stems from the shop's good reputation,' replied Iversen. 'Your father was much liked and respected in these circles.'

'Could it have anything to do with the collection downstairs?'

Iversen shook his head. 'Very few people know about that. I think it just has to do with someone wanting to exploit the void your father's death has left, in one way or another.'

Jon fixed his gaze first on Iversen, then Katherina. He took a deep breath. 'As I'm sure you know, I'm a lawyer,' he said slowly. 'An important part of my job is the ability to see through people who are lying or holding back information, and I think there's something you're not telling me.'

Iversen was about to object, but Jon raised his hand to cut him off.

'I realize that you've initiated me into a situation that is otherwise kept secret. If one chooses to believe you, that is – which I suppose I'll have to do. But I sense there's more. You keep pointing out how important it is for me to understand, but how can I do that if you won't tell me everything?'

Iversen stared at Jon, who was standing in front of him with both hands on the counter. Katherina saw resignation slip into Iversen's eyes, and he turned away to look out of the window. She surmised that behind his mild expression he was thinking like mad about how he could give Luca's son a satisfactory answer without revealing too much.

His expression suddenly changed from resignation to astonishment, and then his eyes widened in fear. Iversen opened his mouth but his shout was drowned out by the sound of breaking glass.

Katherina flinched and then turned towards the sound. The windowpane to the right of the door shattered and shards of glass flew into the shop like small projectiles.

'Get down!' shouted Jon, throwing himself to the floor. Iversen sat as if paralysed in the leather chair with his eyes fixed on the broken window.

Katherina ducked behind the counter, just in time to avoid the splinters from the other windowpane as it shattered too. She shut her eyes tight, waiting for the sound of glass raining down on her to stop.

Slowly she opened her eyes. There was glass everywhere, but even worse were the little columns of smoke issuing from some of the pieces of glass that had landed on the carpet.

'Fire!' she yelled and leaped to her feet.

Little tongues of fire had taken hold of the carpet in several places, and the display in the left-hand window was in flames. Jon was still lying on the floor, while Iversen was leaning over one of the armrests, away from the window. Quickly Katherina stepped behind the counter and opened the cabinet where the fire extinguisher was kept. In the meantime, Jon got to his feet and looked around in disbelief.

'Here,' she said, handing him the fire extinguisher. 'I'll get the other one.'

Jon grabbed the canister, which was no bigger than a thermos, and ran over to the display window, where the flames were biggest. In the meantime Katherina dashed through the shop and downstairs to the kitchen. There she tore the second fire extinguisher loose from its holder, a heavy model at least a metre high, and rushed back up to the shop with it.

'I'm empty,' shouted Jon when she came over to him. The extinguisher was on the floor and he was stamping out the flames on the carpet as he simultaneously tried to pull off his jacket. The fire in the display window was almost out, but Katherina could see an orange glow outside the window frame, so she tore open the door to attack the flames from outside.

As the door flew open she was met by a wave of intense heat. The whole outer surface of the door was on fire. The flames gladly accepted the invitation to come inside and began licking their way up the top of the door frame and towards the underside of the balcony.

Katherina aimed the fire extinguisher at the door and pressed the handle down as far as it would go. A hoarse hiss drowned out the sound of the crackling fire, and white foam spewed out over the wooden door. With an angry sizzle the flames gave way to the foam and the fire on the door was put out before it could gain a foothold inside. The stench of smoke and burnt paint made Katherina cover her mouth and nose with her left arm as she stepped through the smouldering doorway, dragging the fire extinguisher behind her.