"It doesn't taste good either."

The officer comes back with a cup of coffee for Fredericsson, who just stares at it. The officer looks at him patiently.

"Come on, Fredericsson, you want your coffee or not?"

Fredericsson makes no move to take the cup.

"Before you couldn't live without it."

The officer shakes his head and lifts the cup to his lips.

"Wait. Give it to me."

Fredericsson takes the cup from the officer's hand.

"It's worth the risk."

Marc laughs and Fredericsson scowls at him when he puts his lips to the cup and takes a cautious sip. Then he looks at Marc.

"It tastes like coffee."

Fredericsson nods.

"And not good."

Fredericsson nods again, rocking back and forth a little.

"And it could be decaf."

Fredericsson breathes heavily.

"That's a first..."

The officer laughs.

"Who'd have thought that this would ever happen to you? Now you're on your own. I'm going home."

The officer leaves and Fredericsson and Marc stand silently in front of each other. Marc looks into the room and nods at Evy. Then he slowly walks into the room, while Fredericsson follows him attentively. Marc looks at Evy.

"Haven't we met before?"

Evy looks at him without recognizing him and slowly shakes her head.

"No?"

Marc steps closer but stops when she raises her hand.

"I don't know you!"

"I'm sure we've met before."

Fredericsson takes a step closer to Marc. Marc tilts his head a little. Evy and him look at each other for a long time before she turns her head away and looks out the window.

"Was that your phone just now?"

Marc is surprised by the question.

"Was it that loud?"

He hesitates and slowly sticks his hand inside his jacket. A haunted looks appears on Evy's face.

"I just want to give you my card. I'm a private investigator."

He takes a few steps over to her and gives her the card. She takes it carefully and quickly hides it under her covers.

A hard tap against his suede jacket makes Marc jump and he turns around and stares straight into Fredericsson's eyes.

"Get out. We don't need the press or any other snoops."

Fredericsson pushes him toward the door with a flat hand against his back, while he snorts and shakes his head.

"I'll walk you to the elevator and you'll get in and go all the way down and not come back."

The elevator opens and Fredericsson pushes him inside.

"Stay away!"

"In case you need to get in touch with me."

Fredericsson stares at the card in Marc's outstretched hand. Just as the elevator doors start to close, he rips it from his hand and the doors close between them. Fredericsson turns around and marches into the room.

"Sorry about that, but I'm a grumpy old man when I don't get my beauty sleep."

Fredericsson makes a face.

"And I don't like reporters and snoops."

"Private investigators."

Evy's voice is firm.

"Snoops."

Fredericsson's voice is just as firm.

Chapter 13.

Petra parks her car, humming to the last part of the song on the radio. She smiles and enjoys the view of the garden she has loved ever since she saw it for the first time. She had been angry when Nathan moved the office here from the city.

"I'm a city girl."

She had said to Nathan emphatically.

"I belong where the lights are bright and shopping is part of everyday life."

Nathan had smiled and said: "Well, that you are. But I'm still moving the office. I hope you'll come with me."

After that, they hadn't mentioned it, until a month before the move where Petra had said in pa.s.sing: "I like working for you, so I'll come with you."

But the truth was that she hadn't been able to get herself a better job. To her surprise, Nathan had made life easy for her. She was allowed to come in late, so she could pick up paperwork from their partners and the court house on her way. This meant that she came in late and left early almost every day, since she often had to deliver urgent papers on her way home as well. Both she and Nathan knew that now that he was no longer part of a law firm, he wouldn't have as many clients as before. That didn't seem to bother Nathan. He still paid her the same salary and she could even sit in the garden when she needed to read through a lot of material. Nathan had used her eagerness to learn and maybe get a better job later in life, and he had started giving her more and more things to do that weren't secretarial work. Petra smiles and loosens her seatbelt. "The air is fresher here than in the city. Here I can smell the flowers and when the rain comes." She gets out of the car and breathes in deeply before straightening her slim skirt. She walks over to the other side of the car and gets out her bag and the pile of papers she has picked up.

"He'll be busy."

She sighs and realizes that so will she. She knows that when Nathan has a lot to do, he's also very moody. He can change from being the nicest person to being almost mean. She slides her hands over her hair to check that it's still in place. He had changed after his wife got sick. Everything that he used to care for suddenly meant nothing to him. He buried himself in his work and became distant. When he was told that she didn't have long to live, it was as if everything was turned upside down. So much so that it even became too much for Denize, and in a weak moment Nathan had complained to Petra about it.

"Denize always says that she's fine when I ask her. But I can see that she isn't."

Nathan had sighed deeply.

"Why Petra?"

Petra can still feel how unpleasant the situation was. She didn't have an answer.

She walks down the garden path, trying to balance all the papers she's carrying.

"Oh, no!"

She can feel how the heel of her shoe sinks down between to flagstones.

"I'll have to get them fixed again. It's costing me a fortune."

Feeling a little annoyed, she walks the rest of the way up the garden path to the front door. She pushes the door with her back like she always does, but it doesn't open. She drops some of the papers.

"Hmm."

She tries again, but it still won't open.

"That's strange."

She carefully puts down the papers and gets her key from the bag, opens the door, and switches off the alarm. When she steps back from the alarm, she hears a strange sound of plastic breaking under her high heel. She bends down and picks up one half of a credit card.

"Evy Schmidt."

She flicks it between her fingers.

"She must have lost it on her way out."

She looks down. "Strange that I didn't notice it yesterday." She bends down and picks up the other half. "She must have come back later." Petra walks into her office, puts down her bag, and places the credit card on her desk. Then she walks into Nathan's office, but there's no one there. She looks at the file from the night before lying on his desk together with the coffee cup from yesterday morning, the thermos, and the unused cup. "That's strange. He usually puts the cups on my desk when he's done so I can clean them up."

Slowly, she walks over to his desk. The case she managed to get postponed yesterday is lying open on the desk. She lifts up the thermos. "Maybe he's had a single cup." Then she looks at the writing pad and the handkerchief, both are covered in dark stains. She walks slowly forward, but stops abruptly.

"Blood?!"

She hurries back to her own office.

"Nathan?!"

She listens, but there's no reply. Neither in her office nor in the small kitchen is there any sign that Nathan has been there since she left the day before. She desperately looks for notes he might have left for her, but there aren't any. She quickly walks over to the door of the private part of the house. It isn't locked.

"Strange... It's always locked when he's not here."

She walks into the hallway.

"Nathan?!"

Her voice seems to disappear in the large s.p.a.ce.

"Nathan?!"

This time her voice is loud and clear and she's sure he can hear it, but still there's no reply.

"Nathan?!"

But again her call isn't answered. She suddenly feels nervous and starts walking faster. She closes the door to the private part of the house and leans against it for a long time.

"Something's wrong."

Nervously, she looks at the front door that she has left open, and she spots the pile of papers outside. She looks over at the phone and then back at the papers. "I need some time to think." She slowly walks outside to get the papers, carefully putting them on top of her pile before picking them up. She closes the front door with her shoulder and hears the small click when the door locks itself. She puts the papers on her desk and looks at the broken credit card. She looks over at Nathan's office, and at the desk and the white handkerchief. Then she bends forward and picks up the phone. She quickly moves some papers on her desk and places the business card in front of her before dialing the number.

Chapter 14.

The light slowly fills Eric's bedroom, and the loud noise from the TV finally tears him from his sleep. His movements are slow as he tries to sit up in the bed.

"Where's that d.a.m.n remote control?!"

He lifts his covers but quickly lets them fall again. He turns halfway and finds it on the other side of the bed. He gropes around and finally finds the right b.u.t.ton and switches off the TV.