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thought she was fucking dead.”
    â€œDid you see who did it?” asked Mikkelsen.
    Anita shook her head.
    â€œWas he middle-aged and a bit heavy-set, in a white mason’s cap?” Louise asked, jumping into the conversation.
    Anita looked at her and then shook her head again.
    â€œNo, that was the guy with me,” she replied. “He took off when his wife sent him a text message reminding him to buy some milk on the way home.”
    She gave a hollow laugh as she turned around and started getting dressed with the door still open.
    â€œHe gave me an extra hundred,” she said, pulling her blouse over her head. “I’m sure he heard the guy punching her too. He probably thought the big tip would get him out of any obligation to find out if she was all right.”

    â€œIt happened before we got there,” Mikkelsen said once they were again standing outside on Istedgade. “So it’s impossible to know who did that to her.”
    Louise refrained from pointing out he hadn’t asked the African girl to produce any ID. They had walked the woman over to The Nest, a shelter for prostitutes where they could rest, take a shower, and get a hot meal. The volunteers would also be able to find her a doctor if she needed to have the cut over her eyebrow stitched.
    â€œSome johns think they can get away with damn near anything just because they shell out 300 kroner for a lay,” Mikkelsen said after they dropped the battered girl off. “If the man can’t get it up, then it’s the girl’s fault, and she has to be punished for failing to deliver.”
    He shook his head and they began walking back toward Halmtorvet, which was where they’d decided to start searching for witnesses who might have seen the murder victim in the area or noticed anything unusual around Skelbækgade the previous night.

5
    O N HER WAY BACK TO M ORGENAVISEN , C AMILLA CALLED HER editor to give him more information than was in the brief text message she had sent. She promised there was enough material on the abandoned-baby story for it to carry the next day’s front page, what with the pastor and the two boys’ statements, and she told him she also wanted to go ahead with the story on the murdered prostitute in Kødbyen.
    â€œI wonder why the baby was left in that church?” the editor wondered fifteen minutes later as he sat down on the extra chair in Camilla’s office to get more details on the story. “You would assume it was someone from the area—someone who was already familiar with the church—wouldn’t you?”
    Camilla shrugged and said the pastor hadn’t been able to think of anyone who was pregnant and due around this time who was associated with the church in any way.
    â€œThe police are questioning people in the neighborhood, but neither Pastor Holm nor the boys saw anyone. I’m waiting to hear back from the hospital to find out what they have to say about the time of birth or any other details. Personally, I’m guessing the baby wasn’t more than a few hours old. The techs are investigating whether the woman gave birth in the church or if she maybe just left the baby there.”
    â€œYou should head out there and find out what people in the area have to say. And if I remember right, there’s a daycare or a nursery school a little farther down the road. We should do the rounds. Also talk to a couple of pregnant women who are due to give birth soon. What do they have to say about someone abandoning a baby right after birth?”
    Camilla could tell that he was looking for the right way to put it before he added that of course they should also take advantage of the fact that they had a line on an inside scoop.
    â€œWe ought to be way ahead of everyone else when we run the story tomorrow,” he said, standing up.
    Camilla nodded. Of course he would see it that way . For her part, she wasn’t sure how she felt