The Dinosaur Feather(86)

“By the way, you’re not the only person looking for him,” the young woman behind the counter added. Søren was exasperated. What kind of workplace was this where you could just vanish without anyone taking the slightest notice? He asked to speak to the head of the institute. The young woman gave him a skeptical look but picked up the telephone and dialed a number. Ten minutes later a man appeared and introduced himself as Professor Fjeldberg. He was bony and gray, but his eyes sparkled.

“How can I help you?” he said, politely.

“I’m Superintendent Marhauge,” Søren said, showing him his badge. “I would like to see Dr. Tybjerg’s office. I’ve been looking for him for the last two days in connection with the death of Professor Helland. I would like to stress Dr. Tybjerg isn’t a suspect, but I would very much like to talk to him to establish Professor Helland’s movements up to his death.” Søren sounded like he was reading from a script, and the older man looked at him for a long time.

“You know very well I can’t let you into Dr. Tybjerg’s office without a warrant.”

Søren looked resigned. Professor Fjeldberg continued: “But I’ll allow it this once. I, too, have been wondering where he is.”

They followed a different path through the confusing building, and it wasn’t until they reached the windowless corridor that Søren realized where they were: in the basement facing the University Park. They entered the laboratory in front of Tybjerg’s office, and Søren had a look around. The room looked unused. The trash cans were empty and the microscopes were shrouded.

“Here you are,” Fjeldberg said when he had unlocked the door to Tybjerg’s office. “How long will you need?”

“Twenty-five minutes,” Søren said.

Fjeldberg lingered in the doorway. “Is it true about the parasites?” he asked, hesitantly.

Søren groaned inwardly. “What do you mean?” he said, feigning ignorance.

“Is it true that Helland died because he was riddled with parasites?”

Søren laughed briefly. “You know I can’t discuss the case with you. But the parasite story is news to me.”

“I knew it couldn’t be true!” Fjeldberg exclaimed triumphantly, and marched down the corridor.

“Damn, damn, damn,” Søren muttered to himself as Fjeldberg’s footsteps faded away. The parasite rumor was spreading like wildfire. He entered Tybjerg’s office. It was small and full to bursting without being messy. There were bookcases on two walls, a display cabinet against the third, and a desk against the fourth. No old mugs or glasses, no journals lying around. Tybjerg had around fifteen classical music CDs lined up next to his computer, but otherwise very few personal possessions were in evidence.

Søren studied the room for a long time. It looked like something out of an IKEA catalogue rather than the office of a real human being. He read the book spines and discovered that Dr. Tybjerg’s own publications took up almost two shelves. They were mostly journals with Post-it notes attached to the pages where his articles appeared, but there were also a dozen books with his name on the title page. His most recent work was a reference book on birds that had been published earlier that year, Søren read on the title page. An A to Z of Modern Dinosaurs, it was called.

Hey, what was this? He pulled out a thick volume and discovered a beaker with a toothbrush and a disposable razor behind it. He removed more books and his eyes widened. Shaving cream, shampoo, a bottle of aftershave, a cheap plastic comb, stacks of clean underwear, socks rolled up in pairs, three pairs of jeans folded double. When he searched the other shelves, he found personal items behind every book. More clothes, more toiletries, four novels, a stamp collection, a blanket, a torch, an old-fashioned Walkman, and a bag of audio books, including Lord of the Rings.

When Søren had checked everything, he replaced the books and once again the office became bland and impersonal. Behind the door he discovered a fold-out bed, without its mattress. Weird. Søren looked inside the bin, but it was empty. Then he caught sight of a card sticking out between two books. He pulled it out. It was a colorful postcard from Malaysia, the handwriting was sloped and childish. Malaysia is great, but the food very spicy. Will be home soon. Cheers, Asger. A postcard from a friend. He glanced at his watch, then he scribbled down his telephone number on a piece of paper and put it on Dr. Tybjerg’s keyboard. He left the office with one clear goal: to find Tybjerg. He heard Fjeldberg’s footsteps in the corridor.

On their way back to civilization, Søren tried to quiz Professor Fjeldberg about Dr. Tybjerg, but it proved to be difficult.