Gabriel Mørk was sitting in the incident room, watching Ludvig Grønlie put up pictures on the wall. He had not told anyone yet because he did not want to come across as a starry-eyed youngster, but the hacker had had a very exciting day at work, perhaps his best ever since starting here.
He had been out of the office. He had conducted interviews at Hurumlandet Nurseries, a job that was normally the preserve of Munch, Mia and Kim Kolsø, but the scope of the investigation, or rather the sheer number of people who needed interviewing, meant that Munch had dispatched all of them, except Ylva, who had stayed behind to hold the fort at the office, and had looked envious as they left.
Gabriel sympathized. He, too, had felt like an outsider at the start – the rest of the team shared routines and codes, references he did not understand – but it was different now. It was a little like a baptism. He smiled to himself and took a swig of his Coke as Ylva entered and pulled out a chair next to him.
‘Why are you still bothering with this?’ the young woman asked, nodding towards Grønlie, who had just put up a picture of one of the girls from Hurumlandet Nurseries and written her name below it.
Isabella Jung.
‘Bothering with what?’ Gabriel asked.
‘Well, we’ve caught him, haven’t we?’
‘We don’t know that for sure,’ Ludvig Grønlie said, putting up another picture next to the previous one and writing another name below it.
Paulus Monsen.
‘Anette seemed quite confident,’ Ylva said.
‘We’ve seen this before.’ Ludvig picked up another photograph from the table in front of him.
‘Seen what?’
‘People claiming responsibility for murders they didn’t commit,’ Gabriel explained, looking quickly to the experienced investigator.
‘Exactly.’ Ludvig put up another picture on the wall next to the others.
Benedikte Riis.
‘But she seemed so sure,’ Ylva said, popping a piece of bubble gum into her mouth. ‘Anette Goli, I mean.’
‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure.’ Ludvig smiled as he put up yet another picture, this time above all the others.
Helene Eriksen.
‘So have you heard anything?’ Ylva asked.
‘Not yet,’ Ludvig said, carrying on with what he was doing.
Cecilie Markussen.
‘I hope they’ve got him. That we’ve solved this already,’ the young woman said, blowing a bubble.
‘I agree.’ Ludvig nodded and smiled at her. ‘But until we’re told that’s the case, I think it’s important to do this. There are just so many people involved.’
He let out a sigh and studied his collage, which was almost complete.
‘It’s a bit of a mess,’ Ylva remarked.
‘Oh, do you think so?’ Ludvig looked at her.
‘Oh, no,’ the young woman hastened to add. ‘No, not your wall – I meant the whole case. Messy; so many potential suspects. It’s not easy to know where to start.’
Ludvig smiled, put up the final photograph and took a step back to assess his work, checking if the display was clear enough.
‘So, talk me through it,’ Ylva said, studying the picture wall with interest.
‘Helene Eriksen. She’s the boss out there. She set the whole place up.’
Ylva nodded.
‘Paulus Monsen. Helene’s – well, what shall we call him? – right-hand man. Aged twenty-five. An ex-resident, but now a kind of caretaker.’
‘OK.’
‘Two teachers,’ Ludvig continued, pointing them out. ‘Karl Eriksen. Eva Dahl.’
‘And what were they like?’ Ylva wanted to know.
‘Munch and Kim interviewed the teachers,’ he said. ‘So we don’t know the details yet. Pity, really.’
‘What is?’
‘That we haven’t managed to debrief and review everything as a team yet. It’s a bit chaotic here, if you ask me.’
The grey-haired man took another step back and sized up the picture wall again.
‘So it’s just girls at the Hurumlandvet Nurseries?’
‘No, I don’t think that was the original intention,’ Ludvig said. ‘Am I right, Gabriel?’
‘You are, the place is for both boys and girls. There are two dormitories, but, for some reason, they only have girls living there now. We didn’t find out why, did we, Ludvig?’
He looked at Ludvig, who shook his head and scratched his neck.
‘So these eight girls make up all the residents?’ Ylva said, pointing to them.
Something in Gabriel’s pocket buzzed. He eased out his iPhone and glanced at it quickly; he would rather hear what Ludvig had to say, but when he saw the message that had just arrived, the photographs and his colleagues in the room ceased to exist for him.
Phoenix to Electron, are you there?
It took a few seconds before he understood the importance of it.
He could not remember the last time he had heard from his old friend; he typed a quick reply.
Electron here. What’s up?
The reply arrived a few seconds later.
I’m outside. It’s important.
Outside?
Gabriel quickly texted back.
Outside where? What’s important?
The reply came swiftly this time as well.
13 Mariboesgate. I have something for you. The girl with the flower in her mouth.
How on earth was Skunk connected to her?
Gabriel scrambled to his feet, mumbled an apology to his colleagues, rushed out of the room and then ran as quickly as he could down the stairs.