The Library of Shadows Read Free Page A

happening, it said 'Corner Shop' in big type on his T-shirt. He loved to use the most stereotypical prejudices in his small provocations, a sort of hobby of his to carry out pinprick operations against Tabloid Denmark, as he called it. This didn't stem from the bitterness or anger to which some immigrants succumbed, but rather from pure and simple amusement and self-mockery.
    The door to the living room opened, and with a smile Mehmet motioned for Jon to come in as he continued talking into his headset. As far as Jon could tell, the language was Turkish. The room he entered served three purposes for Mehmet: living room, office and storage room. Occasionally it also seemed as if the space were used as a sauna. At any rate, it was always very hot, possibly so that Mehmet could walk around in boxers and T-shirts year-round.
    Mehmet was a 'contest jockey'. That was the label that he used for himself, and it undeniably gave his work a more romantic tone than it actually deserved. With the universal breakthrough of the Internet, many companies had discovered that a good way to entice visitors to their website was to offer a contest or a lottery that enabled participants to win products, money, trips and much more. Electronic versions of scratch cards and casino games also became effective draws. Since most of these contests were not limited by where the player might be in the world, there was access to countless opportunities, with new ones appearing every second.
    Mehmet lived off, in many cases quite literally, taking part in as many contests and games as he could find, regardless of what he might win. He then re-sold the prizes he couldn't use himself, which was why his home looked like a merchant's warehouse with cardboard boxes everywhere, containing cleaning products, breakfast cereals, bags of crisps, toys, sweets, wine, fizzy drinks, coffee, toiletries and a few larger items such as an Atlas freezer, a Zanussi electric cooker, an exercise bicycle, a rowing machine and two 'Smokey Joe' grills. To an outsider it might look like the well-stocked inventory of a receiver of stolen goods, and that was also the reason why he was regularly accused of using his flat for exactly that purpose.
    'What's up, boss?' exclaimed Mehmet, reaching out to shake hands with Jon. He was apparently done with his phone conversation, though it was never possible to know for sure since he rarely took off his headset.
    Jon shook his hand.
    'Well, I'm ready,' he said, nodding at Mehmet's half-dressed state. 'What about you?'
    'Hey, all I have to do is sit there and look innocent,' said Mehmet, holding up his hands.
    'Then you should probably change your T-shirt,' suggested Jon dryly.
    Mehmet nodded. 'I'm on it. In the meantime, take a load off, it'll only take me a nanosecond.'
    Jon's client left the room, and the barrister looked around for a place to sit down. He moved a box filled with tinned goods from a brown leather sofa and sat down with his briefcase on his lap. At one end of the room stood a large dining table that functioned as Mehmet's desk. On the table three flat-screen computer monitors were lined up as if they were headstones. Behind the table stood a desk chair the size of a dentist's chair, and judging by the multiple levers it offered as many possible settings.
    'What about the lawsuit for damages?' called Mehmet from the bedroom.
    'We can't very well sue them before we've won,' Jon shouted in reply.
    Mehmet appeared in the doorway, transformed by a black suit, white shirt and highly polished shoes. He was in the process of tying a grey tie, struggling with the unaccustomed manoeuvres.
    'But it could be a fair amount this time,' Jon went on, pointing at the cut on Mehmet's face.
    Mehmet gave up on the tie and tossed it aside. 'Yeah, they're going to have to cough up plenty of euros,' he said as he touched his eyebrow. 'What's the hourly rate of a punch bag?'
    Jon shrugged in reply.
    At the latest visit the police had shown up with six