" He opened the lock while the dogs began to growl at Assad. ‘They’re not used to dark skin.’ ‘No problem. I’ve got them under control,’ answered Assad, at which the dominant dog lunged towards him ready to bite. Carl jumped to the side but Assad stood his ground and that very second, as the gardener tried to stop the beast, he let out an infernal yell that made both dogs sink to their knees like puppies and piss themselves like they’d never pissed before. ‘That’s it,’ said Assad, slapping himself on the thigh and calling the dogs to heel. When they crept over to him and let him pet them, both the gardener and Carl stood speechless, watching. ‘Where did I get to?’ said Assad, the dogs on either side of him, as if they’d found a new master. ‘Yes, we need a little assistance. Firstly, we need to buy something or other that can help me sleep.’ Carl couldn’t believe his own ears. If Assad slept any deeper than he had in the hotel in Rønne, he’d damn well never wake up again. ‘And then we need something that can revitalize my friend here. Afterwards, we’d like to ask you a couple of questions, if that’s OK with you.’ The ID card never materialized from Carl’s pocket. "
― Jussi Adler-Olsen , The Hanging Girl (Department Q, #6)