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realised that perhaps it was a bit late to be calling people. Mrs Einarsson answered on the second ring. She listened without asking questions and pondered a bit at the other end of the line: ‘Purchase agreement? Yes, I should have it in our paperwork drawer, but you’ll have to wait a second.’
    He waited, listening as drawers were opened and closed, and papers shuffled.
    ‘I can hardly read it,’ she complained.
    ‘Try. I can come by and collect it tomorrow if you can’t make it out.’
    ‘Well, it’s an address on Erik Børresensgate anyway. Mikkelsen, I think. Can’t read the first name, nor the street number. Unless it’s a 5 perhaps, could be a 5. Or a 6. Erik Børresensgate 5 or 6.’
    ‘That’ll do fine, I’m sure. Thanks very much!’
    He made a note on the pad by the phone. It was important not to miss anything. If he couldn’t find out who the car went to, he could find out where it came from. That was something anyway.

Chapter 6
    A NEW DAY was already on the wane when Karlsen got back from the canteen with two prawn open sandwiches and a Coke. He’d just sat down and was cutting into one slice, when Sejer appeared in the doorway. The more abstemious inspector carried a couple of cheese sandwiches and a bottle of mineral water. There was a newspaper under his arm. ‘May I join you?’
    Karlsen nodded, dipped the sandwich into mayonnaise and took a bite.
    Sejer drew up a chair, seated himself and pulled a slice of cheese out of the bread. He rolled it into a tube and bit off the end.
    ‘I’ve got Maja Durban out of the file,’ he said.
    ‘Why? Surely there’s no connection there.’
    ‘Nothing obvious. But there aren’t that many murders in this town, and they occurred within days of each other. Einarsson frequented the King’s Arms, Durban lived three hundred metres away. We ought to check more closely. Look at this!’
    He got up, went to the map on the wall and took two red mapping pins out of a tray. Accurately, and without searching, he stuck one pin in the block on Tordenskioldsgate and one in the King’s Arms. Then he sat down.
    ‘Look at that map. It’s the whole of the county borough, the map is two metres by three.’
    He reached for Karlsen’s anglepoise reading lamp, which could be turned in all directions. He pointed the light at the map.
    ‘Maja Durban was found dead on the first of October. On the fourth of October, Einarsson was killed, at least that’s when we must assume it happened. This is hardly a metropolis, we’re not overwhelmed by such incidents, but look at how close the pins are!’
    Karlsen stared. The pins showed like two closely spaced red eyes on the black and white map.
    ‘True enough. But they weren’t acquainted as far as we know.’
    ‘There’s a lot we don’t know. Is there anything we do know?’
    ‘That’s rather pessimistic, isn’t it! But I think we ought at least to do a DNA on Einarsson and check it against Durban.’
    ‘Well, why not? We’re not paying.’
    For a while they ate in silence. They were men who had a great respect for one another, in a tacit way. They didn’t make a fuss about it, but they shared a decided mutual sympathy which they exercised with patience. Karlsen was ten years younger and had a wife who needed humouring. So Sejer kept in the background, in the certainty that the man had enough with his family, something he regarded as a sacred institution. He was interrupted in his thoughts by an officer who appeared at the door.
    ‘A couple of messages,’ she said, handing him a small piece of paper. ‘And Andreassen from TV 2 phoned, he wondered if you’d appear on
Eyewitness
with the Einarsson case.’
    Sejer tensed and his gaze wavered uneasily.
    ‘Er, perhaps that’s one for you, Karlsen? You’re slightly more photogenic than me.’
    Karlsen grinned. Sejer loathed appearing in public, he had very few weak points, but this was one of them.
    ‘Sorry. I’m just off to a conference now, don’t you