“Do you suppose it’s racially motivated?” Sigurdur Oli said, looking down at the boy’s body.

“I don’t think we should jump to conclusions,” Erlendur said.

“Could he have been climbing up the wall?” Elinborg asked as she, too, looked up at the apartment block.

“Kids do the unlikeliest things,” Sigurdur Oli remarked.

“We need to establish whether he might have been climbing up between the balconies,” Erlendur said.

“Where do you think he’s from?” Sigurdur Oli wondered.

“He looks Asian to me,” Elinborg said.

“Could be Thai, Filipino, Vietnamese, Korean, Japanese, Chinese,” Sigurdur Oli reeled off.

“Shouldn’t we say he’s an Icelander until we find out otherwise?” Erlendur said.

They stood in silence in the cold, watching the drifting snow pile up around the boy. Erlendur looked at the curious bystanders at the corner where the police cars were parked. Then he took off his coat and draped it over the body.

“Is it safe doing that?” Elinborg asked with a glance in the direction of the forensics team. According to procedure they were not even supposed to stand over the body until forensics had granted permission.

“I don’t know,” Erlendur said.

“Not very professional,” Sigurdur Oli said.

“Has no one reported the boy missing?” Erlendur asked, ignoring his remark. “No enquiries about a lost boy of this age?”

“I checked that on the way here,” Elinborg said. “The police haven’t been notified of any.”

Erlendur glanced down at his coat. He was cold.

“Where’s the person who found him?”

“We’ve got him in one of the stairwells,” Sigurdur Oli said. “He waited for us. Called from his mobile. Every kid carries a mobile phone these days. He said he’d taken a shortcut through the garden on his way home from school and stumbled across the body.”