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'And Remer hasn't been seen since?'

'No,' replied Iversen. 'It's as if he's dropped off the face of the earth. We've rung all the phone numbers listed in the documents about him, but we keep getting the same answer: "Remer is unavailable." ' He threw out his hands. 'As I said, we're keeping his residences under surveillance. In fact, I'm due to relieve Henning in a bit. Don't worry, he's bound to turn up sooner or later.'

Katherina wrung her hands. Sooner or later wasn't good enough. Jon was being held prisoner somewhere out there because she'd left him in the lurch. Unless he agreed to cooperate, it was just a matter of time before Remer would give up and need to get rid of Jon for good. She felt anger welling up inside her. Why had they let her sleep so long? Why hadn't they done more to find Jon?

'We've done what we could,' said Iversen, as if he'd read her thoughts. 'You have to believe us. We even considered going to the police to tell them the whole story.'

'But we gave up that idea pretty quickly,' said Clara. 'It wouldn't help Jon, and Remer's contacts would probably be able to prevent anything from being done about the case.'

Katherina realized they were right. With the information they had at their disposal, they couldn't have done anything more than they had. Her anger was replaced by frustration. What could she do? She had to do something. It was too painful to sit here waiting for Remer to turn up, if he ever did decide to reappear.

'What about Pau?' she asked, sounding agitated.

Iversen shook his head. 'The bedsit where he lived is empty. No one has seen him for the past three days.' He sighed. 'And of course Pau wasn't his real name, so that lead ends in a blind alley like all the others.'

Katherina slowly stood up. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she just couldn't sit here any longer. If she had to search all of Copenhagen to find Jon, she would do it. Anything but remaining passive.

'I'm going home,' she said.

Clara was about to object, but Katherina cut her off.

'It's okay. I'm fine.'

'I'll drive you,' said Iversen, getting to his feet.

'That'd be great. Thanks,' said Katherina as she gave Clara a hug. 'Thanks for everything, Clara.'

'If there's anything I can do, just let me know.'

Katherina nodded. Accompanied by Iversen, she walked through the house and out of the front door. The grass in the little front garden had been recently mown, and it reminded her of summer even though it was mid-autumn. On the pavement at the end of the path lay a bin bag that someone had tipped over, spilling rubbish all over the flagstones. Envelopes, coffee grounds and milk cartons were all jumbled together, soiling the pavement in that impeccable residential neighbourhood.

It was possible to tell a great deal about a person from the contents of his dustbin.

Now Katherina knew who would be able to help her.

Mehmet opened his eyes wide in astonishment when he saw Katherina standing outside his garden door. She had allowed Iversen to drive her home but then went straight to the bicycle shed in the basement to get out her mountain bike and head over to Nшrrebro. Something had kept her from telling Iversen about her plans, maybe because she needed to carry them out on her own.

'Well, if it isn't the Lawman's girlfriend,' declared Mehmet as he pushed open the door. He scanned the yard. 'Have you given Jon the slip?'

'You might say that,' replied Katherina, trying to smile. 'I need your help.'

Mehmet gave her a friendly smile as he studied her face inquisitively.

'Sure. Come on in.'

The living room still resembled a warehouse, with boxes against all the walls and cluttering the floor in teetering piles. Just inside the door stood a complete golf set, including bag, clubs and even a tweed sixpence cap hanging from the handle of one of the clubs. Katherina pulled out a club, weighing it in her hands.

'Do you play golf?' asked Mehmet with hope in his voice. 'I can let you have the set cheap.'

'No, I'm afraid not,' replied Katherina.

'I didn't think so,' said Mehmet. 'But that's not why you're here, is it?'

Katherina put the golf club back and shook her head. 'I need you to track down a couple of people for me.'

'No problem.' Mehmet sat down in front of his computer and interlocked his fingers at the same time as he stretched out his arms. His fingers produced an audible crack, and he smiled.

'I need to know where they are right now. You don't have to waste any time on their histories.'

Mehmet nodded.

'First of all, Otto Remer,' said Katherina, pausing as Mehmet typed the name into his computer. 'Next, a man in his mid-thirties who works as a chauffeur for William Kortmann.'

Mehmet's fingers flew over the keyboard as he repeated what she had said. Then he nodded.

'Anyone else?' he asked, looking at her.

'The last one is Jon Campelli,' said Katherina, fixing her eyes on him.

'Jon Campelli?' Mehmet repeated after several seconds. 'You want me to find Jon Campelli?'

Katherina nodded. She could feel her throat closing up at the sound of his name.

'I realize that I said I didn't want to know what you two are mixed up in,' said Mehmet sombrely. 'But what's going on? Did he run off? If he doesn't want to be found, I can't help you.'

Katherina cleared her throat. 'Jon is being held against his will,' she said. 'By the two men I just mentioned.'

Mehmet frowned but otherwise didn't move.

'Otto Remer is the head of a criminal organization that will stop at nothing,' Katherina went on. 'It's extremely important that we find Jon as quickly as possible, or else…' She felt the tears welling up. 'Or else they're going to hurt him.'

Mehmet gave a big sigh. 'What the hell have you got yourselves into?' he said. 'I heard that Jon was fired, and now this.' He shook his head. 'Why don't you go to the police?'

'It's a long story,' said Katherina. 'And we're wasting time.'

Mehmet nodded and turned to look at the monitor in front of him.

'Okay then,' he said. 'Let's find our friend.'

The waiting was awful. Katherina had nothing to contribute other than to answer the questions that Mehmet occasionally asked. Otherwise the only sound in the room was the clacking of the keyboard. Mehmet had switched off his mobile phone after the first time it rang, and Katherina didn't want to disturb his concentration. He was her only chance.

While Mehmet worked, Katherina walked around the room, unable to sit still. She examined the assorted wares in the boxes, again amazed that anyone could make enough to live on by entering contests. Jon had told her about a Japanese TV show in which the participants were locked inside a flat and had to live off whatever they were able to win in contests, either over the Internet or from coupons. Most people had to give up from lack of food.

Now and then she slipped behind Mehmet to peek at the computer screens, but even if she'd been able to read, she was convinced that she still wouldn't have understood a thing. Numbers and symbols scrolled up the three screens at a speed that made it impossible to catch the meaning, and Mehmet's fingers danced over the keyboard.

'Okay,' he announced after searching for nearly an hour and a half. 'I know where he is, but you're not going to like it.'

Katherina went over to the table to look at the monitors. One of them showed a world map covered with lines.

'I checked the airports,' Mehmet began. 'No trace of Otto Remer, but Jon flew…' He set the tip of his finger on Denmark. From there numerous lines reached out to destinations all over the world. 'From Kastrup airport to…' He moved his finger south along one of the lines.

Katherina opened her eyes wide.

'That can't be right,' she said.

32

'Egypt?' exclaimed Jon sceptically.

Remer smiled and threw out his arms. 'The realm of the Pharaohs, the cradle of civilization.'