Mikkel Birkegaard - The Library of Shadows

'You'd better leave us now,' the man said to Remer, who obeyed, closing the door behind him.

From his position in the bed, Jon couldn't see what was in the suitcase, but he was prepared for the worst type of torture instruments he could imagine. In a strange way he felt relieved. The pain of seeing Katherina subjected to something similar seemed to him far worse than having to experience it himself.

But when he saw what was taken out of the case, he was seized with panic.

The short man with the steel-rimmed spectacles slowly reached both hands into the suitcase and pulled out an object with the greatest of care.

It was a book.

When Katherina first heard about where Jon had gone, she was relieved. It meant he was still alive. But the next moment she felt terribly despondent. The distance between her and Jon was pictured on Mehmet's screen as a long, curving arc from Denmark to Egypt, and it seemed insurmountable. She had no idea how she was going to get there or how she would be able to find him in a country of that size. In despair, she simply fell apart standing there next to Mehmet.

He took it well. He led her gently over to the sofa and then sat down beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders. At no time did he ask about the reason for Jon's trip or why she had reacted the way she did. He just let her cry.

When Katherina finally regained her composure, she thanked him over and over, promising to tell him the whole story some day. Mehmet responded by offering his help, no matter what she might need. Katherina was sure that before long she would have to take him up on his offer.

There were probably plenty of questions that she should have asked Mehmet, but she could no longer remain idle. She had already slept away almost two whole days, and all she wanted to do now was drive straight to the airport and catch the first flight to Egypt. But when she said goodbye to Mehmet and climbed onto her bicycle, she thought better of it, and rode instead over to Libri di Luca as fast as she could.

Henning was standing behind the counter. That surprised her until she remembered that Iversen had said he was supposed to relieve Henning and take over the surveillance at Remer's place of residence.

'Everybody can stop looking for him,' said Katherina as she entered the bookshop. 'I know where he is.'

Henning looked at her in astonishment.

'Katherina… Aren't you supposed to be…' He pointed to the windows. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine,' Katherina lied. She didn't have the patience for questions about either her health or her state of mind. 'You can call the others back. Jon isn't in Denmark at all. He's in Egypt.'

Henning's expression was now both annoyed and concerned. He was about to open his mouth, but Katherina was way ahead of him.

'I don't know why. The only thing I know is that they flew him there twenty-four hours ago.'

Henning nodded and wisely didn't say a word until he'd gathered his wits enough to pick up the phone to ring Iversen. Several phone calls later, the message to withdraw had reached everyone involved.

In the meantime, Katherina had found a big atlas, which she placed on the counter, leafing through the pages until she came to North Africa. Her eyes flitted over the map, over the rivers, cities and the wide open areas of desert. As a child she had often paged through atlases, occasionally imagining herself to be a god looking down on her handiwork. If she squinted hard, she could even see the people moving around down there. Right now she wished she could reach down into the sands of Egypt and pick Jon up with her fingertips to bring him home.

Iversen was among the first to arrive, and Katherina told him how she'd found out the information about where Jon had gone. He nodded pensively as he studied the map lying on the counter. The names of countries and cities washed over Katherina as he read, and she tried to cling to the flow of names to find just one that she could link to something meaningful. She focused on Iversen's reading so that he'd be able to scan the map faster, but in her eagerness she pushed him too hard. He calmly placed his hand on hers, asking her to back off. She nodded, apologized and immediately stopped trying to influence him.

'What do they want?' asked Iversen rhetorically, sticking his fingers under his glasses to massage his eyelids. 'Why Egypt?'

'It could be a diversionary manoeuvre,' Henning suggested without sounding convinced. 'If they wanted to keep Jon's whereabouts secret, they wouldn't have used his real passport, would they?'

'Maybe there wasn't time for anything else,' said Iversen.

Katherina stood with her arms crossed. She was having trouble remaining calm.

'Why can't we just go there?' she asked impatiently. 'They're already a day ahead of us.'

'Egypt is a big country,' said Iversen. 'We need to have a better idea where he is. They may have gone somewhere else from there.'

'Not on the same passport,' said Katherina. 'Mehmet checked.'

Iversen nodded.

More of the other Lectors turned up, including Clara, who shamefacedly avoided looking at Katherina, who reciprocated in kind. Katherina still couldn't forgive Clara for letting her sleep so long. Iversen filled in everyone on the situation as Katherina retreated to the background. Before long a lively discussion had started up around the counter, with one theory replacing another, each more outlandish than the last. She didn't understand why they had to waste time on speculation. Of course Iversen was right. Egypt was a big country if you were looking for just one person, but she would feel much better if she was actually there instead of talking about what they should do once they'd arrived.

Katherina went over to the window and looked out. She touched her hand to her chin. It was late afternoon, and dark clouds had gathered over the city, threatening rain at any moment. The wind had picked up, and people were leaning into the gale as they tried to hold onto their overcoats. A figure approached the bookshop and came to a halt at the window, right in front of Katherina. It was a man with a big beard and dishevelled hair sticking out in every direction in the wind. Instead of studying the books on display, he fixed his clear blue eyes on Katherina.

She practically shouted with surprise when she recognized Tom Nшrreskov. He hadn't bothered to change his clothes since they'd met at his farm in Vordingborg. He broke into a wide grin.

Katherina ran over to the door and tore it open, making the bells leap on their cords. The other people in the shop turned round to stare, their mouths agape, as Katherina pulled the visitor inside.

Clara took a step closer.

'Tom?' she asked, with doubt in her voice.

Nшrreskov nodded and with some embarrassment looked about at the group.

'This is Tom Nшrreskov,' said Katherina.

Iversen came forward to take Tom's hand in both of his.

'Welcome, Tom. It's good to see you.'

Nшrreskov merely nodded and continued glancing around, as if this were the first time he'd set foot in Libri di Luca. His gaze moved along the shelves up to the balcony and then slid over all the volumes and stacks of books on the main floor. A wide smile slowly spread over his face.

'It's been a long time, Iversen,' he said. 'But the place looks just the same, thank God.'

Everyone present forgot all about the map of North Africa and began saying hello to Nшrreskov as if he were an old schoolmate. His eyes flitted from one Lector to the next; there were many he'd never met before, but he studied each of them attentively, as if he were searching for someone.

'Where's Campelli's boy?' he asked at last, reaching into his inside pocket. 'I have a postcard from his father.'

No one said a word, and a strained mood settled over the group.