HE’D JUST GOTTEN UP AND WAS SITTING on the balcony. Invisible birds were singing from a sky where two jets had painted a cross. “I’ll see what I can do,” Halders said. “How are things?” “It’s hot already.” “How’s it going?” “I said I’ll see what I can do, didn’t I?” “OK, OK.” Halders looked up and saw a new cross. The old one had already melted into the sky. “As you can hear, there’s still a bit of the grumpy old Halders left,” he said. “There’s hope yet, then.” “I’ll be coming in shortly,” Halders said. “We’ll try to find the flat where one missing boy lives in the meantime.” “You’ll have to do that, at least.” Halders paused. “I’ll pay a visit there later.” He took the road alongside the river. The white pleasure boats twinkled on the water like sparklers. The asphalt felt soft under the tires. It smelled like a different country. Julie Miller was singing “Out in the Rain” on Halders’s CD player. Halders turned up the volume and sang his way through his journey westward as the sun punched at the roof of his car.
