He had entered his name and explained how he had cracked the code. Why not? He might as well. He had received a friendly reply that, yes, his solution was correct but, unfortunately, only British nationals could apply for jobs with the service.
Gabriel Mørk had thought nothing more of it. Not until his mobile had rung last Friday. Today was Thursday, and here he was with his computer under his arm, meeting a stranger before starting some kind of job. Working for the police.
‘Gabriel Mørk?’
Gabriel almost jumped, and turned around.
‘Yes?’
‘Hi, my name is Kim.’
The man who had spoken his name stuck out his hand. Gabriel had no idea where he had appeared from; he looked very ordinary, perhaps that would explain it. Somehow, he had been expecting flashing blue lights and sirens, or a uniform – at the very least, a brusque tone – but the man now standing in front of him could have been anyone. He was practically invisible. Ordinary trousers, ordinary shoes, an ordinary jumper in colours which did not stand out from the crowd in any way, and then it struck Gabriel that this was precisely the point. He was a plain-clothes police officer. He was trained to blend in. Not to stand out. Suddenly to appear out of nowhere.
‘Please follow me. It’s this way,’ said the man who was called Kim, and led Gabriel across the street to a yellow office block.
The police officer produced a card outside the front door and entered a code. The door opened. Gabriel followed the man to the lift: same procedure here, you needed a card to operate the lift as well. Gabriel watched the man furtively as he entered the code in the lift. He didn’t know exactly what to say, or if he should say anything at all. He had never had any dealings with the police. Nor had he ever taken a lift which required a code. The police officer called Kim looked completely at ease, as if he did this all the time. Met new, unknown colleagues in the street. Entered codes in lifts. The two men were the same height, but the police officer was of a slimmer build and, despite his invisibility, he looked in great physical shape. He had short, dark hair and had not shaved recently. Gabriel was unable to tell if this was on purpose or whether he had just not got round to it. He did not want to stare, but he noticed out of the corner of his eye how the police officer suppressed a small yawn, so it was probably the latter. Long days. Heavy caseload would be his guess.
The lift stopped on the third floor and the police officer got out first. Gabriel followed him down a long corridor until they reached another door, which also required a card and had a keypad. There were no explanatory signs anywhere. Nothing saying ‘Police’ or listing the names of any other agencies. Total anonymity. The man opened a final door, and they had arrived. The offices were not large, but they were open and light. Some desks put together in an open-plan office, some smaller, individual rooms here and there, most with glass walls, others with the blinds drawn. No one paid much attention to the two men who had just arrived; everyone was busy doing their own thing.
Gabriel followed the police officer through the open-plan office to a smaller room. One of those with glass walls. He would be on display, but at least he had his own office.
‘This is where you’ll be,’ Kim said, letting Gabriel enter first.
It was sparsely furnished. A desk, a lamp, a chair. Everything looked brand-new.
‘You submitted a list of the equipment you needed?’
Gabriel nodded.
‘And that was a desk and a lamp from IKEA?’
For the first time, the police officer called Kim showed signs of emotion. He winked and slapped Gabriel on the back.
‘Eh, no, there was more than that,’ Gabriel said.
‘I’m just pulling your leg. The IT guys are on their way. They’ll get you up and running in the course of the day. I would have shown you around and introduced you to everyone, but we have a briefing in five minutes, so we won’t have time for that. Do you smoke?’
‘Smoke?’
‘Yes, you know? Cigarettes?’
‘Er, no.’
‘Good for you. We don’t have many rules here, but there is one which is quite important. When Holger Munch goes outside to the smoking terrace, nobody joins him. That’s where Holger Munch thinks. That’s when Holger Munch does not want to be disturbed, get it?’
The police officer pulled Gabriel out of his new office and pointed towards the terrace. Gabriel could see a man standing there, presumably Holger Munch, his new boss. The man who had called him and casually, just ten minutes into the conversation, offered him a job. With the police. Don’t bother the boss when he’s smoking. No problem. Gabriel had no intention of disturbing anyone or doing anything except what he was told to do. Suddenly, he spotted the woman standing next to Holger.
‘Oh, wow!’ he exclaimed.
He thought he had said it to himself, but Kim turned around.
‘Eh?’
‘Is that Mia Krüger?’
‘Do you know her?’
‘What? No, not like that, but of course I have… Well… I’ve heard about her.’
‘Yes, who hasn’t.’ Kim chuckled. ‘Mia is brilliant, no doubt about it. She’s unique.’
‘Is it true that she only ever wears black and white?’
Gabriel had asked spontaneously – his curiosity had got the upper hand – but he regretted it immediately. Unprofessional. Like an amateur. He had forgotten that they had already hired him. Kim probably thought he was a fan or something, which was partly true, but this was not how Gabriel Mørk wanted to come across to a colleague on his first day at work.
Kim studied him briefly before he replied.
‘Well, I don’t remember ever seeing her in anything else. Why?’
Kim blushed faintly and stared at the floor for a moment.
‘Nothing, just something I read on the Net.’
‘You shouldn’t believe everything you read.’ Kim smiled and took an envelope from his jacket pocket. ‘Here is your card. The code is your birthday, the incident room is at the end of the corridor. We start in five or ten minutes. Don’t be late.’
Kim winked, slapped Gabriel on the shoulder once more and left him alone inside the small office.
Gabriel was at a loss. Should he stay where he was, or sit down, or maybe just run home and forget the whole thing ever happened? Find another job, do something else. He felt like a fish out of water. And how could you be on time for a meeting which started in five or ten minutes?
He opened the envelope and was surprised to see a photograph of himself on the card.
Gabriel Mørk.
Violent Crimes Section.
He felt a sudden surge of pride. Secret doors. Secret codes. Specialist units. And he was on the inside. And Mia Krüger herself was standing outside on the terrace. He decided to make his way to the incident room in a few minutes. Being early had to be better than being late, whatever that meant up here in this mysterious place.
Chapter 15
Tom Lauritz Larsen, a pig farmer from Tangen, had originally been dead set against the Internet. But when Jonas, the young farmhand, had moved into the spare bedroom, he had insisted that the sixty-year-old farmer got broadband, otherwise he would refuse to work for him. Tom Lauritz Larsen had been cross, that went without saying: being grumpy was his default setting, there was never anything to smile about. And now he had managed to get this sickness in his lungs. Going on sick leave? What kind of nonsense was that? No one in his family had ever been on sick leave. What was this idiot doctor telling him? Was he suggesting that Tom Lauritz Larsen couldn’t run his own farm? There had been three generations of pig farmers on Tangen, and no one had ever been on sick leave or taken sickness hand-outs from the state. What was the world coming to? But then he had started fainting without warning. Frequently, and all over the place. The last time, he had fainted in the pigsty with the doors open. When he regained consciousness, he was surrounded by his neighbours, the pigs were at large in the village and Tom Lauritz Larsen had been so embarrassed that he had taken his doctor’s advice the next day. Attended appointments at the hospital in Hamar. Gone on sick leave. And found a farmhand through the job centre.