The Killing - 01 - The Killing Read Online Free PDF Page A

for.’
    There was a photo on the whiteboard. The semicircle of seats in the Rådhus. Three politicians, one good-looking, an old man, a smug fat-faced woman. She couldn’t care less.
    Out came the phone again and she typed one more message. Nanna, where the hell are you?
    ‘We’re lucky to live in a country where we have the right to vote,’ the teacher went on. ‘To decide our own future. To control our destiny.’
    He was thirty or so, from the Middle East somewhere, not that it showed in his voice. Some of the girls fancied him. Tall and handsome. Nice body, cool smart clothes. Always helpful. Always had time for them.
    Lisa didn’t like foreigners much. Even when they smiled and looked good.
    ‘So let’s hear the questions you’ve prepared for the debate,’ Rama said.
    Class full, the rest of them seemed interested.
    ‘Lisa.’ He had to pick her. ‘Your three questions. Are they on your phone?’
    ‘No.’
    She sounded like a petulant kid and knew it. Rama cocked his head and waited.
    ‘I can’t remember them. I can’t . . .’
    The door opened and Rektor Koch walked in. Scary Koch, the stocky middle-aged woman who used to teach German before she rose to run the school.
    ‘Excuse me,’ Koch said. ‘Is Nanna Birk Larsen here?’
    No answer.
    Koch walked to the front of the class.
    ‘Has anyone seen Nanna today?’
    Nothing. She walked over to talk to the teacher. Lisa Rasmussen knew what was coming next.
    One minute later Lisa was outside with the pair of them, Koch glaring at her with those fierce black eyes and asking, ‘Where’s Nanna? The police are looking for her.’
    ‘I haven’t seen Nanna since Friday. Why ask me?’
    Koch gave her that ‘you’re lying’ look.
    ‘Her mother told the police she spent the weekend at your house.’
    Lisa Rasmussen laughed. People used to think she and Nanna were sisters sometimes. Same height, same clothes, blonde hair too though Nanna’s looked better. And Lisa was always heavier around the middle.
    ‘What? She didn’t stay with me.’
    ‘You don’t know where she is?’ Rama asked a little more gently.
    ‘No! How could I?’
    ‘If she calls tell her to ring home,’ Koch said. ‘It’s important.’ She glanced at Rama. ‘They need your classroom for the debate. Be out of there by eleven.’
    When she was gone Rama turned, took Lisa Rasmussen’s arm and said, ‘If you’ve any idea where she is you must say so.’
    ‘You’re not supposed to touch me.’
    ‘I’m sorry.’ He took his hand away. ‘If you know—’
    ‘I don’t know anything,’ Lisa said. ‘Leave me alone.’
    Lund and Meyer were upstairs in the Birk Larsen flat. It was as cluttered as the office but in a pleasant way. Photos, paintings, plants and flowers. Vases and mementoes from holidays. Decorated , Lund thought. She never got round to that herself. The woman she now knew to be Pernille Birk Larsen worked at being a mother. Seemed good at it. As far as Lund could judge.
    ‘She’s not at school,’ Lund said.
    Pernille still wore her raincoat as if none of this was happening.
    ‘She must be at Lisa’s. They’re friends. Lisa rents a flat with a couple of boys. Nanna’s always there.’
    ‘Lisa’s at school. She says Nanna never stayed with her.’
    Pernille’s mouth hung half open. Her eyes were wide and blank. On the kitchen wall Lund saw the same two photos from the office: Nanna with the boys, Nanna on her own looking beautiful and too old for nineteen. Fixed to a corkboard alongside a timetable for school sports events. The easy, casual air of domesticity hung around this place. Like the smell of a dog, unnoticed by the owner, apparent to a stranger from the outset.
    ‘What’s happened to her? Where is she?’ Pernille asked.
    ‘Probably nothing. We’ll do our best to find her.’
    Lund walked into the tiny hall and phoned headquarters.
    Meyer took Pernille out of earshot and began asking about photos.
    Through to Buchard, Lund said, ‘I need