Read Online The House That Jack Built by Jakob Melander - Free Book Online

considerable muscle mass was hidden beneath a layer of body fat.
    â€œHi Kim,” Allan said.
    Kim A gave Allan a quick nod, then let his gaze fall on Meriton, who glared back at him. Then Kim A spotted Sanne. He pursed his lips and cleared his throat.
    â€œSorry,” he said, to Allan. “I was told you were asking for me?”
    Allan raised his eyebrows. “Really? Who told you that?”
    Kim A pointed backwards, looked at Meriton, then out the window. “I just ran into . . .” He stopped. “It was probably just a mistake. Sorry for interrupting.” Then he was gone.
    â€œWho was that?” Sanne asked.
    â€œKim A. Former riot squad officer.”
    â€œIsn’t he on the case that Lars is handling now?”
    â€œThat sounds about right.” Allan snorted. Was that a laugh?
    Meriton mumbled something and Shpend pulled out a cigarette, lit it for him. He inhaled, blew out two enormous clouds of smoke, one from each nostril.
    Sanne pulled Allan into the corner. “He can’t find out that we know they beat Mira. It will just get the other girls into trouble, and they’ll probably get a beating too.”
    Allan nodded.
    â€œOkay.” Sanne crossed the room, looked Meriton hard in the eye. She tried to ignore the penetrating stench of stale sweat. “So you do admit that you knew Mira?”
    Meriton puffed his chest out. “She was a — how do you say — girlfriend?” Shpend translated. “He has not seen her since the night of May 4.”
    Meriton took a drag on the cigarette; the ember flared up. He started speaking quickly, gesticulating; Shpend almost couldn’t keep up. “Meriton and his brother Ukë had agreed to meet Mira at Burger Palace on Vesterbrogade at 11:30 p.m. But she never turned up. Some of their other girlfriends” — Meriton laughed at this point — “had seen her on Absalonsgade an hour before. They’d had people out looking for her, but the ground might as well have opened up and swallowed her whole. Until he saw her on the front page of today’s paper.” Meriton nodded at the open copy of the tabloid BT on Toke’s desk.
    Allan leaned forward in the chair. His stomach spilled out onto his thighs. “Do you know what I think? I think you and your brother discovered that she had a customer or two on the side.”
    Meriton looked away, took a drag on the cigarette. “You don’t know shit. Danish police don’t know shit,” he said in Danish. “You need to find out who killed my friend Mira.” The interpreter stared at him open-mouthed.
    Allan started to get up, his face flushed. Sanne had to pull him back down into the chair.
    She waved the paper with the list Meriton had made in front of his face. “We’re going to check this list thoroughly. You’d better hope that one of your friends wasn’t somewhere else that night. In a car accident, ticketed for running a red light, bar fight . . .” Meriton’s gaze wandered. Sanne continued, “And when you see your brother, tell him we’d really like to have a word with him. Preferably today and at the very latest, tomorrow. If he doesn’t show up, we’ll make it our mission to destroy your business. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
    Meriton spat out the cigarette butt.
    â€œDanish police,” he said getting up, then stomping toward the door. “You don’t know shit.”
    A little later Sanne sat in her broom-closet-sized office. There were no windows and the walls were brown. The room smelled of linoleum and old paper. She twisted and turned a dirty envelope in her hand. The stamp was postmarked 22.4 Bratislava, Slovakia . One side of the envelope looked to have been opened with a knife.
    She put the envelope down and sorted through the few, modest belongings Mira had left behind: a fake Dolce & Gabbana purse, cheap lace underwear, a pair of tight H&M