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‘I thought it must be the same killer,’ Gabriel said.

‘Aha, go on.’

‘I thought that it doesn’t seem very Norwegian.’

‘Exactly. Go on.’

‘I was pleased they were not the children of someone I knew,’ Gabriel continued.

Munch gestured for him to carry on talking.

‘It was strange that both of them were about to start school. At first, I wondered if it might be about a teacher. Then I feared that perhaps more girls will disappear. Then I thought that, if I had a six-year-old daughter, I would take extra care of her right now.’

‘What did you say?’ Munch said, and seemed to come round momentarily.

‘If I had a six-year-old daughter, I would take extra care of her.’

‘No, before that.’

‘Perhaps more girls will disappear?’

‘Before that.’

‘I thought it might be about a teacher.’

‘Hmmm,’ Munch said, scratching his beard again.

He reached for the door.

‘Incidentally, are you any good at code-breaking?’

Gabriel smiled faintly.

‘I thought that was why you hired me?’

‘Oh, yes, so it was.’ Munch smiled.

He stuffed his hand into his trouser pocket and produced a scrap of paper on which he had scribbled something.

‘This isn’t a priority, it’s a private matter, but I’m hoping you might be able to help me.’

Munch handed Gabriel the note.

‘I have several nerdy friends who like to challenge me. One of them sent me this, but I haven’t been able to crack it.’

Gabriel looked at the note Munch had just passed him.

Bwlybjlynwnztirkjoa=5

‘Can you tell what it is?’ Munch asked him with interest.

‘Not at first glance,’ Gabriel said.

‘He’s been testing me for a few days.’

Munch sighed. ‘But I think I’ll have to give up. Let me know if you make anything of it, would you? I hate it when these mates of mine get one over on me.’ Munch chuckled and patted Gabriel on the shoulder again.

‘But it’s not a priority, it’s just a private matter, OK?’

‘Sure.’ Gabriel nodded.

Munch finally left and, this time, Gabriel made it all the way out into the corridor before Munch popped his head round the door again.

‘Full briefing has been postponed. It’ll be in just under an hour, OK?’

‘Sure.’ Gabriel nodded and stayed in his chair, studying the challenge on the note Munch had just given him.

Chapter 18

Benjamin Bache could not hide his disappointment as he flicked through today’s edition of VG without spotting his name. The paper had crowned this year’s best-dressed men and, last year, he had come a respectable third, beaten only by Morten Harket and Ari Behn; this year, however, he had not even made the list. Dammit. The actor punched the wall in his dressing room, but regretted it immediately. It hurt and made a noise. A moment later, there was a knock on the door and Susanne, the assistant director, appeared.

‘Everything all right, Benjamin? I thought I heard something?’

Benjamin Bache stuck his still-aching hand into his pocket and put on his best smile. After all, he was an actor.

‘Everything is just peachy; perhaps it came from Trond-Espen?’

‘OK.’ Susanne smiled. ‘Rehearsals start in fifteen minutes, Act III from the beginning.’

‘To be or not to be, that is the question,’ Benjamin recited with a wink.

The assistant director giggled before she disappeared. Oh yes, he still had it. But, for the love of God, he had made the list last year – what had gone wrong this time? He had taken such care with his appearance. He had even hired a PR firm and a stylist to advise him. Making sure he looked good. Having his pictures taken at all the right events. From all the right angles. He heaved a sigh and sat down in front of his dressing table. He had not aged much in one year. A few tiny wrinkles around his eyes. His temples were possibly slightly higher. He leaned forward and examined his hairline. There was cause for concern: it looked as if it had receded by a few millimetres since the last time he checked. He swept his hair to the side; it looked thicker when he wore it like that. He began some vocal exercises. Warmed up his throat, pouted at himself in the mirror.

He had been hired by Nationaltheatret almost eight years ago. ‘A star is born,’ Dagbladet had written after his interpretation of Estragon in Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, and from then on he had been cast almost exclusively in leading roles, at least initially. He had played Romeo. He had played Peer Gynt. And now Shakespeare’s Hamlet on the main stage. He had hoped for the title role. Hamlet. ‘To be or not to be.’ But, instead, he had been cast as Horatio. The part of Hamlet had gone to Trond-Espen because. well, it would, wouldn’t it? Though he didn’t really see why. He was obviously the better actor by far.

Oh, my lord…

He was most put out. Acting in the shadow of Trond-Espen. Bloody Horatio, a character ignored by practically everyone; it was pretty much only Hamlet who bothered to speak to him. Standing on stage, bowing his head, treating Trond-Espen like a king – no, that really went against the grain. Benjamin Bache got up and studied his body in the mirror. He really was very good-looking. It put him in a slightly better mood. His recent workout routine was producing results. The yoga, too. As were the skin treatments: he couldn’t see a flaw anywhere.

He returned to his chair and carried on with the vocal warm-up as the stage manager’s voice crackled through the intercom.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, we’re ready to run Act III. Hamlet. Hamlet, Act Three from the top starting in five minutes.’

Benjamin Bache finished his vocal exercises, left his dressing room and made his way to the main stage.

Chapter 19

Gabriel Mørk was sitting at the back of the incident room, waiting for the briefing to start. He had greeted everyone, shaken their hands in turn, said hi, hi, without being able to remember very many of their names. There was Kim, who had met him in the street, and a woman with long, blonde hair called Anette, then there were three younger men whose names he could not remember and an older man whose name was… Ludvig, was it?

Holger Munch entered the room, closely followed by Mia Krüger. Mia took a seat in a chair at the front, while Holger turned on the projector and connected it to his laptop.

‘Right, hello, everyone. Today is the first briefing with everyone present. Full team in place, and that’s what we need. We have some new faces – welcome to you; those of you who have done this before, please help the newcomers settle in so that we get the best out of everyone. It’s now ten days since we found the body of Pauline Olsen and eight days since we found Johanne Lange. After imposing a media blackout, we have decided to use the press to our advantage. As you have no doubt seen, we have today released pictures of the dresses the girls were found wearing.’

Holger paused briefly and looked across the assembly. Gabriel Mørk thought he could detect a faint smile behind the grave eyes.

‘We should really be celebrating being back here in Mariboesgate,’ Munch added. ‘But, as you know, we have more important things to do, so that will have to wait.’

Gabriel glanced around the room. Even though the mood was sombre, he saw smiles and a couple of contented faces around him. There was no doubt that this team was pleased to be back together again.