Prim moved among the tourists on the marble slabs at ground level. He had seen Terry Våge arrive, recognised him from the byline photo and other images he had found online. Watched him stand on the roof and wait. Prim hadn’t seen anyone follow Våge, nor anyone who looked like police in position at the place beforehand. He had moved around, taken note of most of the people who were there, and after half an hour concluded he no longer saw any of the faces he had seen when he arrived. At twenty to ten he saw Våge make his way down from the roof, he had given up. But now Prim was certain. Terry Våge had come alone.
Prim cast one last glance around him. Then set off for home.
‘And what’s he doing here?’ Markus Røed sputtered, pointing at Harry. ‘A guy I’ve paid a million dollars to send me to jail when I’m innocent to boot!’
‘Like I told you,’ Krohn said, ‘he’s here because he doesn’t actually think you’re guilty, he thinks you were—’
‘I heard what he thinks! But I haven’t been to any bloody...
He spat the last two words out. Harry felt a drop hit the back of his hand, shrugged and looked at Johan Krohn. The room the three of them had been allocated for their meeting was actually a visiting room for the inmates’ families. It had a window where the morning sun shone in behind rose-patterned curtains and iron bars, a table with an embroidered tablecloth, four chairs and a sofa. Harry had avoided the sofa and noticed Krohn did the same. He probably knew it was marinated in the juices from desperate and fast sex.
‘Could you explain?’ Harry said.
‘Yes,’ Krohn said. ‘Filip Kessler is saying that on the two Tuesdays Susanne and Bertine were murdered, he was with a person wearing the mask you see here.’
Krohn pointed at the cat mask lying on the table next to the membership card.
‘This person had the nickname Catman. Both items were in your suit, Markus. And the rest of the physical description matches you as well.’
‘Really? Which distinguishing features did he tell you about, then? Tattoos or scars? Birthmarks? Any peculiar abnormalities?’ Røed looked from one to the other.
Harry shook his head.
‘What?’ Røed laughed angrily. ‘Nothing?’
‘He doesn’t remember anything like that,’ Harry said. ‘But he’s pretty sure he’d recognise you if he was to touch you.’
‘Oh, Jesus fucking Christ,’ Røed said, looking like he was going to retch.
‘Markus,’ Krohn said, ‘this is an alibi. An alibi we can use to get you released immediately, and that we can enter as evidence to have you acquitted should they still decide to prosecute. I understand that you’re worried what this alibi would mean to people’s image of you, but—’
‘You understand?’ Røed roared. ‘
Harry cleared his throat. ‘This isn’t about you, Røed.’
‘What was that?’
‘There’s a killer out there who can and will, in all likelihood, strike again. That will be made all the easier for him as long as the police are convinced they already have the guilty party, as in you, in custody. If we withhold information about you being at Villa Dante, it makes us complicit when he kills his next victim.’
‘
‘I intend to honour the contract and I don’t regard the case as solved.’
‘Really? Then give me back my money!’
‘Not as long as three police lawyers are of the opinion you face conviction. What’s important now is to get the police to refocus their attention, and that means we have to give them this alibi.’
‘I wasn’t at that place, I’m telling you! It’s not my fucking responsibility if the police aren’t able to do their job. I’m innocent, and they’ll find that out in a straightforward fashion, not with these... gay lies. There’s no reason for panic or rash actions here.’
‘You idiot,’ Harry said with a sigh, as though it were a sad fact he was merely stating. ‘There’s every reason to panic.’ He got to his feet.
‘Where are you going?’ Krohn asked.
‘To inform the police,’ Harry said.
