Mjasník entered the registration number into his mobile phone and texted it to the Department of Transport number. Fifteen seconds later, he received the reply. The owner was one Alf Bronelid, born in 1952. “Not you,” Mjasník said aloud. Half an hour later, another car left the garage. A MINI Cooper that was not registered to Jonna de Brugge either. Mjasník looked up at the flat. It was now seven o’clock and most of the flats had their lights on. Except one. By seven-thirty, the residents were leaving the building both from the main entrance and the garage. For each car, he had an answer within fifteen seconds and every time it was the wrong answer. Mjasník looked up at the darkened flat one last time before finally getting out of the car. Leo Brageler awoke to the familiar, metallic sound of the key turning in the door lock. The old man came in and sat down on the stool again. The dawn light crept in through the doorway and spread a misty shimmer around the room.
