The Dinosaur Feather

to kill him, of course he didn’t. But you don’t get a tapeworm from eating a piece of one! And you don’t get a tapeworm infection from eating its eggs, either! Stupid boy.’ Her voice grew woolly. ‘I’m a parasitologist, and my own son commits such a howler. And he’s a biologist, too.’ Professor Moritzen looked mortified.
    ‘At least you know where the 2,600 cysticerci came from,’ she added, drily. ‘From my silly boy. Of course, I wondered how Asger got hold of the material and I’ve discovered that . . . There was one weekend in May when my keys went missing and I had to use my spares. My keys reappeared and I thought nothing of it. That weekend Asger let himself into my lab and took the tapeworm from the in-vitro supply. I honestly believed I knew precisely how many specimens I have. After all, I count them. But he had only taken one and when I checked, it seemed to add up to me.’ She gestured apologetically. ‘I have samples in cold storage, for dissection,and I have living specimens, which are kept in artificial conditions, like the ones found in the small intestines. At least he had been smart enough to take a living specimen, but his knowledge stopped there,’ she said bitterly. ‘That Monday he went up to the Department of Cell Biology and Comparative Zoology to have lunch with Professor Ewald in her office across from the senior common room. They know each other from a project when Asger was still an undergraduate. At some point, Asger went to fetch some salt and while he was in the senior common room, he opened the fridge and placed the tapeworm segment in Lars’s lunch.’
    ‘How did he know the food belonged to Lars Helland?’ Søren interjected.
    Professor Moritzen sighed.
    ‘The stupid idiot had planned it all down to the last detail. He had gone to the senior common room twice the previous week. On both occasions, he had found an empty cool bag with the initials L.H. and once when Asger passed the senior common room, he had seen Lars eat leftovers from it. He was very careful. He certainly didn’t want to infect Professor Jørgensen or Professor Ewald. Asger was angry. I told him that Lars Helland was his father shortly after I had been made redundant. I had always told Asger that he was the result of a one-night stand and that I knew nothing about his father. But I was in love with Lars and got pregnant by him during my second year as an undergraduate. Lars was already married to Birgit and he was shocked when I confronted him. He told me he didn’t believe the child was his. But I knew it was. We reached an impasse and people started talking. Someone had seen us together and now I waspregnant. Lars got completely paranoid and offered me money. He would have been sacked on the spot had it become known that he had got an undergraduate pregnant. I accepted his offer. I moved to Århus and I had Asger. Lars bought us a flat on the condition that I signed a document stating he wasn’t Asger’s father. I listed my son’s father as “unknown” and to be honest, I forgot all about him. I was twenty years old, I lived in Århus, and was busy with my studies and my little boy. I met other men. Do you want some tea?’
    Søren nodded and Professor Moritzen disappeared into the kitchen. Shortly afterwards, she returned with a small bowl with steaming contents which she handed to Søren. She sat down on the sofa and blew carefully into her own bowl.
    ‘After all those years why did you decide to tell Asger that Professor Helland was his father?’
    Professor Moritzen heaved another sigh.
    ‘Asger grew up without a father, but it was never a problem. When he turned nineteen, he decided he wanted to study biology. To begin with, I was dead set against it. An academic career isn’t for the faint-hearted. It’s one long uphill struggle. For money, for recognition, for elbow room. I genuinely doubted if Asger was cut out for it. He’s a loner, wary and ultra-sensitive. But he was adamant. He had followed my work his whole life and when he wanted a butterfly net for Christmas and an aquarium for his birthday, that’s what he got. I don’t know why I expected anything else.’ She shook her head. ‘In 1998 I applied for the post of Professor of Parasitology at the University of Copenhagen, never thinking for one minute that I would get it. But halfway through thesummer holiday, I got a phone call. The job was mine. Less than a week later Asger got a letter. He was offered a