The Dinosaur Feather

you know about him?’
    ‘Mrs Snedker told me,’ Søren said.
    ‘I don’t know,’ she replied honestly. ‘But I know it’s not Freeman. Maggie says he was young.’
    ‘Haven’t you wondered about it?’
    ‘At first I was convinced that it must have been Johannes,’ she said, ‘and I texted him to find out. When it turned out not to be him, then I started wondering. But if . . . if his killer has his mobile,’ Anna gulped, ‘maybe Johannes really was here, and the text messages are lying . . . Perhaps Johannes came to tell me something? But then, why would he run away? That doesn’t make any sense.’ She looked away.
    Søren rose. ‘Tomorrow at 10 a.m.,’ he said, pointing at her, ‘and don’t be late.’
    Anna shook her head.
    When she had closed the door after him, she gave him the finger.
    Thirty seconds later, someone rattled Anna’s letterbox. Anna opened the door.
    ‘So, what’s the latest?’ Maggie whispered. Anna could hear that Søren hadn’t even reached the ground floor yet.
    ‘Maggie, I’m exhausted,’ Anna whispered back. ‘Tomorrow.’
    Maggie looked disappointed and had turned around when something occurred to Anna.
    ‘Maggie,’ she said, taking the old lady’s hand. It was velvety. ‘If the man who waited for me comes back, then . . .’ She looked gravely at her. ‘Then I want you to call the police.’
    Maggie looked momentarily frightened, then she said, ‘I’ll tell you one thing, you’re a much more exciting neighbour than Mrs Lerby. When she lived here, nothing ever happened.’
    Anna smiled feebly and said goodnight. She sat down in her living room, barely able to keep her eyes open. For the first five minutes she just sat there. Johannes was dead. Her brain refused to accept it. She couldn’t tell Jens and Cecilie. They would freak out completely and refuse to allow her ever to set foot in the university again. Jens would stomp up and down and threaten to expose the department in the press. Then she remembered that neither of them was talking to her. She kicked off her shoes.
    She wanted to cry, but her chest tightened and no tears came. For a long time she mourned Johannes. Then she called Karen.
    Karen picked up the telephone immediately and was thrilled when she realised who it was. She wasn’t the least frosty or guarded, as Anna had feared. Karen chatted away. She was a student at the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts and had lived in Copenhagen since August. She loved it, Copenhagen was a great city, and she had made lots of friends in no time. She knew where Anna lived, but hadn’tcalled her. She admitted, frankly, that she needed to summon up the courage after all the years that had passed, but last Tuesday she had bumped into Cecilie in the street. Cecilie had told her that Anna was rushed off her feet and that one of her supervisors had died. Cecilie had promised to e-mail Karen with the date of Anna’s viva, and they had arranged for Karen to be there. As a graduation present.
    ‘Imagine, you’re a real biologist now!’ Karen exclaimed. ‘I’m so proud of you!’
    Karen wanted to know everything about Lily. Brown hair, red hair, Anna’s colour? What did she like? Could Karen buy her a present? A doll? Or a Spiderman apron so they could make models out of clay together? Anna was filled with regret. Why hadn’t she kept in touch with Karen? It seemed beyond silly, and Anna had an uncomfortable feeling that it was her who had chosen not to see Karen, rather than the other way around. Her throat tightened and she responded monosyllabically to Karen’s joyful outbursts. Finally, Karen asked how she really was, apart from busy.
    And the whole story poured out of her. Thomas, their shipwrecked relationship, Cecilie who had picked up the pieces, but who now stuck to her life like a limpet, her MSc at the Department of Cell Biology and Comparative Zoology, about her supervisor and a fellow student, who both appeared to have been murdered. At this point, Anna burst into tears and Karen insisted on coming over – there’s no way you can be alone right now, she said, horrified.
    ‘I don’t want to be on my own, either,’ Anna sobbed. ‘But would you be able to come over tomorrow evening instead, please?’ she asked in a small voice. ‘Would you like to staywith us over the weekend? Help me with Lily, so I don’t have to call Cecilie? I don’t want to call Cecilie. I feel so ashamed.’ Karen agreed without a moment’s hesitation. She