The Dinosaur Feather

arrived with a body bag and removed Johannes’s body; Johannes’s bed linen and his mattress were sealed and taken away. Bøje said goodbye and disappeared down the stairs. Just after 3 p.m. everything had been measured, photographed and all the evidence collected. They had to wait for the autopsy and it would be hours before they got any information. Søren would be none the wiser until tomorrow. He instructed five teams of two officers each to ring doorbells. When the flat had been sealed, he plodded down the stairs. It was snowing lightly, but even so, a crowd had gathered outside the house, staring nosily at the stairwell and the red and white police tape flapping in the wind. Another four officers arrived – Søren waved them over and briefed them in the shelter of the stairwell. When they had been given their orders, Henrik joined Søren. Søren was freezing and couldn’t feel his woolly socks, in fact, he couldn’t even feel his feet.
    ‘We had better tell his parents,’ Søren sighed.
    ‘I’ve taken care of that,’ Henrik said, patting his shoulder. ‘I sent Mads and Özlem.’
    Søren was grateful and he listened to Henrik while he tried to memorise the faces of the spectators. The group was starting to break up, he thought, people were getting cold. Two elderly ladies, with granny trolleys and berets, were shifting from foot to foot next to three young men in neonpink quilted jackets and rucksacks and a young woman with a child in a pram. A younger guy was talking into his mobile, his cheeks were flushed and, to the far left, were a couple of women in their forties with two teenage children.
    At the far end of the group was Anna.
    She had put up her hood and her body language told Søren she had just joined the onlookers and was trying to push her way to the front. Henrik was about to say something, but he made no sound, and he tried to catch Søren’s eye. A frightened Anna looked at the building, the police cars and the cordon and, for a fraction of a second, she looked straight at Søren. Then she turned around. Søren set off after her. Brusquely, he pushed Henrik aside, skidded across the pavement, got caught up in the tape, pushed the young guys out of the way, finally got free of the crowd, and ran out into the road. The street corner was fifty metres from the stairwell and Anna had already turned it and was long gone. He was certain it had been her. Her eyes, her mouth, the hood covering her hair. He turned into Enghavevej. Traffic was heavy and slow, and he stopped. A bus started to pull out, the driver beeping his horn at the cars who refused to let him out. Søren ran to the bus and tried peering inside, but the windows were steamed up. He banged on the side while he ran alongside it. He punched the tyres which began rolling, hammered on the door and finally made eye contact with the driver.
    ‘Get lost,’ mouthed the driver. ‘Catch the next one.’
    Søren fumbled for his badge, but the traffic eased, the bus accelerated and left Søren behind, cold and troubled.

     
    ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Henrik shouted, when Søren returned to Kongshøjgade. He sent Søren a furious look.
    ‘I thought I saw someone,’ Søren said, avoiding Henrik’s eyes.
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Doesn’t matter. It wasn’t . . . him.’
    Henrik narrowed his eyes. ‘Since when do you chase suspects on your own?’
    ‘Since today,’ Søren said, wearily. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t make head or tail of this case.’
    Henrik was visibly annoyed.
    ‘Søren,’ he said. ‘Every police officer has to accept that not every case will be closed. So far, you have solved every case you’ve ever been given. You may have to swallow that this could be your first unsolved case. It won’t kill you, nor will you be demoted to pounding the pavement, will you? Besides, it’s not over yet. We’ve only just started! You and I will wait like good little boys for Bøje’s report and then we’ll come up with a battle plan, okay? Let’s call it a day. I’ll wrap things up here and catch a lift back with Mads. You go home. I’ll write the preliminary report.’
    Søren nodded and got in his car. He sat there for a while, trying to calm down.
    Søren drove down Falkoner Allé towards Nørrebro with a renewed sense of purpose. After crossing Ågade, he turned right and parked behind Anna’s block. He walked around to the front door and rang the bell. For a long time. No reply.He rang the next door