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‘What for?’

‘Because this is a search.’

Anders turns and walks cautiously to Jurek Walter. His eyes are completely shut again, but beads of sweat are starting to appear on his furrowed face.

Reluctantly Anders leans over and feels inside one of his pockets. The denim shirt pulls tighter across Jurek’s shoulders and he lets out a low groan.

There’s a plastic comb in the back pocket of his jeans. With trembling hands Anders checks the rest of his tight pockets.

Sweat is dripping from the tip of his nose. He has to keep blinking hard.

One of Jurek’s big hands opens and closes several times.

There’s nothing else in his pockets.

Anders turns back towards the reinforced glass and shakes his head. It’s impossible to see if Brolin is standing outside the door. The reflection of the lamp in the ceiling is shining like a grey sun in the glass.

He has to get out now.

It’s taken too long.

Anders gets to his feet and hurries over to the door. The Senior Consultant isn’t there. Anders peers closer to the glass, but can’t see anything.