The Dinosaur Feather

several times, but still he never once looked through my window, even though I’m certain he knew I was in my office. I also saw Asger several times. He was radiant, having been offered a fellowship at the department. I had never seen him so happy.It was more food for thought. Should I let Helland get away with buying my silence?
    ‘I made up my mind one afternoon when I saw Asger with Erik Tybjerg. They walked right past my window, laughing out loud at something, so Asger completely forgot to wave. The next day, I informed Helland that his blatant bribe had been accepted on one condition. He would put himself forward for the next election to the Faculty Council and when he was voted in, he was to make sure that my department would never be short of funds again. I squeezed the lemon as hard as I could, in order to gauge how badly he wanted Asger to remain a secret. It was clearly of the utmost importance because he consented. Asger remained fatherless, I became a blackmailer and Professor Helland kept his job. I lost no sleep over this. Our parasite research saved lives in the Third World and my son was spared a father who didn’t want him. It went on for years.’ Professor Moritzen blinked. ‘Lars was good at securing grants, exceptional, even. Once the grants were awarded, he got creative. The money was allocated across the system and when it reached individual budgets, it was disguised and moved along so that when it finally came to us, no one was keeping an eye on it any more, no one asked questions.’
    ‘So what happened?’ Søren wanted to know.
    ‘There was an election and the new government had other plans,’ Professor Moritzen said bitterly. ‘It slammed shut the money box and threw away the key. From now on, every unit within the institute had to submit a half-yearly report explaining how grants had been spent, along with research results. Every krone had to be accounted for. The new governmentwas highly mistrustful and it soon became clear that it cared nothing for our work unless it was profitable. There was a major management shuffle and Professor Ravn was appointed as the new head of the institute. In consultation with the Faculty Council, he decided to close Coleoptera Taxonomy—’
    ‘What’s that?’
    ‘A small unit, specialising in beetle systematics. It had a staff of two: one was an older professor of taxonomy on the verge of retirement and the other was a young, upcoming invertebrate morphologist . . .’ Professor Moritzen looked at Søren with tears in her eyes.
    ‘Asger.’
    She looked away.
    ‘Asger had spent the summer in Borneo collecting samples and returned the day before the start of the new academic year. He was tanned and I had never seen him looking so relaxed and contented. The institute claimed they had sent a letter and an e-mail, that they had tried hard to contact him, but whether it was Asger’s fault or they were lying, he turned up, unsuspecting, and found his department closed. There was a photocopier, still in its bubble wrap, waiting outside the door for Asger to clear out his things, so his office could be turned into a photocopying room. Not long after I said hello to him I saw him storm out. He had arrived with his buckets and specimen jars, wearing a too-warm jacket, smiling from ear to ear, his backpack tucked under his arm, and now I saw him head for the car park without his things and in a T-shirt. I fretted and waited for him to come back. After half an hour, I knew somethingwas wrong. I called Asger’s former colleague, but calls to that line were forwarded to his secretary. She gave me his home number. When I called him, my hands were shaking. Afterwards I called Lars. It was a very unpleasant conversation. “There was nothing I could do,” he said, over and over. “It was the smallest unit at the institute. There was nothing I could do.” I wanted to kill him, even if he was telling me the truth. Lars assured me he had done everything he could, but he had been the only one to vote against it. “Did I know what a majority vote meant, had I heard about democracy?” The department was closed with immediate effect, the older professor retired and Asger was . . . let go.’ Professor Moritzen looked out of the window, at the building across the road. It had grown dark.
    ‘Obviously I went straight to Asger’s. He didn’t open the door. I called out through the letterbox. I should have known it all along. His joy, his optimism, Borneo, his