Page 163 - THE ATTACK ON THE FERRISWHEEL- 200 PAGES FREE OFFER

the same reddish-blonde in colour as his mullet. He placed between two women

with his arms around their shoulders; with one of them being his sister Rigmor,
surely. She is dressed in a pink shirt with puffed sleeves, and her hair is exactly

the same colour as her brother's. When Tom’s looks closer, he can see their faces

looks almost identical, like twins, yet the overbite is more prominent in Rigmor.
Under his other arm sits a stout woman with thick, brown hair and a very round

face. You can tell from the picture that he likes her.

Jens Willumsen has nothing to do with neither Kräsen nor the criminal
syndicate that sells the stolen art.

Tom puts the piles of material away and goes out to the bathroom for a quick
wee. As he brushes his teeth, he carefully studies his own mirror image; hmm, is

he getting older? He still looks good, he assures himself. He has still got a little

tan. Although he is naturally light brown in skin from birth, you can always tell
that he has been in the sun.

After brushing his teeth, he puts on a light brown blazer to compliment his

white shirt, the blazer being the same colour as his chinos. He pulls out his
phone. There is a message from Olina:

Hi Tom! I'm with you all the way. We're working non-stop on Claire on at the
moment; we want to get behind her little facade. The clues so far look promising.

See you soon.

Olina.
He goes down into the yard where the Audi is parked. He pushes the button on

the key, opens the door and starts the engine. He slowly drives forward then take

left turn out onto Voldgade, and further over Christiansholm's bridge. From
there he continues on over Kongens Nytorv, and then via Bredgade he finds

Østerbrogade. The traffic here is easy compared to what he has experienced in

Munich. A quarter of an hour later, he stands in front of a beautiful, white
patrician villa on Kong Olufs Vej, 10. He looks around a bit to form an impression

of the area. The villa is a little secluded from the road; it is surrounded by a

mixture of trees and a high hedge that would block access in summer, but here in
winter the villa is fully exposed. The light snowfall increases as he walks the few

metres down the garden path, leading to the entrance to the house. A wide
staircase leads to a covered front. As he has strained his way on the few steps, he