After listening to the tape three times he gave up, put away the cassette player and went to the kitchen. He pottered about for a couple of minutes and emerged with a cup of hot chocolate and three cheese and caviar sandwiches on delicious Skogaholm bread. He turned up the sound on the TV and switched to 'Crime Night' on the Discovery Channel. Watching re-enactments of real crimes was perhaps an odd way for a cop to relax, but he always found it soothing. The crimes were always solved.

As he watched the programme a thought of a highly private nature began to take shape. A highly pleasurable and invigorating idea, which effectively repressed all images of crime and death. Patrik smiled as he sat there in the dark. He would have to go on a little shopping expedition.

The light was piercing and relentless in the cell. Kaj felt that it was penetrating every part of him, every nook and cranny. He tried to hide from it by burying his head in his arms, but he still felt the light prickling the back of his neck.

In only a few days his whole world had come crashing down. It might seem naive in hindsight, but he had felt so safe, so untouchable. He had been part of a group that seemed above the ordinary world. They weren't like the others. They were better, more enlightened than everyone else. What the world didn't understand was that it was all about love. Nothing but love. Sex was only a small part of the whole. Sensuality was the closest word he could find to describe it. Young skin was so pure, so unsullied. Children's minds were full of innocence, not befouled by ugly thoughts as the minds of adults were, sooner or later. What they were doing was helping these young people to develop so that they could reach their full potential. They helped them to understand what love was. Sex was the tool, but not the goal in itself. The goal was to achieve an accord, a union of souls. An association between young and old, so beautiful in its purity.

But no one would understand. They had talked about it so much in the chat rooms. How the stupidity of the others and the narrow-mindedness of their thinking made them unable to imagine even trying to understand what was so obvious to the members of the group. Instead, the others were so eager to label what they were doing as dirty, they even then labelled the children in the same way.

Against that background he could understand why Sebastian did what he did. The boy had realized that nobody would understand, that he would be forever after regarded with abhorrence and contempt. But what Kaj couldn't understand was why he'd levelled such accusations against him in his final farewell to the world. Kaj felt hurt. He had really believed that they'd reached a deep mutual understanding during their meetings, and that Sebastian's soul, after the initial reluctance that always had to be overcome, had willingly sought to merge with Kaj's. He had regarded the physical act as something subordinate. It was the feeling of literally drinking from the fountain of youth that had been the real reward. Had Sebastian really not understood that? Had he been pretending the whole time, or was it society's norms that had made him disavow their affinity in his last letter? It pained Kaj to think that he would never know.

He had tried not to dwell on the other matter. Ever since they had brought him the news of Morgan's death, he had tried to push away all thought of his son. It was as if his brain couldn't accept the cruel truth, but the merciless light in his cell forced images upon him that he fought hard to keep at bay. And yet one thought had spitefully caught up with him, the idea that this was perhaps his punishment. But he hastened to fend it off. He hadn't done anything wrong. Over the years he had come to love other boys, and they had loved him. That's how it was, and that's how it had to be. The alternative was too terrible for him even to imagine. It must have been love.

He knew that he had never been much of a father to Morgan. It had been so difficult. Even in the beginning his son had been hard to love, and he had often admired Monica because she was able to show him affection, that intractable, awkward child of theirs. Another thought occurred to him. Maybe they were going to try to make a case that he'd touched Morgan. The very idea made him furious. Morgan was his son, after all, his own flesh and blood. He knew that was what they'd say. But it was only proof of how restricted and narrow-minded they were. It wasn't the same thing at all. The love between father and son was different from the love between him and the others. It was on a completely different level.

And yet he had loved Morgan. He knew that Monica didn't believe it, but it was true. He simply hadn't known how to reach out to Morgan. All his attempts had been rejected, and he sometimes wondered if Monica in some subtle way might have been thwarting them. She had wanted him all to herself. Wanted to be the only parent he turned to. Kaj was effectively shut out, and even though she rebuked him and accused him of not engaging with his son, he knew that secretly that was precisely the way she wanted it. And now it was too late to change anything.

As the harsh light of the fluorescent tube flickered at him, he lay on his side on the floor and curled up in the foetal position.

So far the medical examiners on TV had solved three cases in forty-five minutes. They made it seem easy, but Patrik was well aware that it wasn't that simple. He hoped that Pedersen would get back to him tomorrow with news about the ashes on Liam's shirt and Maja's overalls.

Then a new case was presented. Patrik watched the programme listlessly and felt sleep sneaking over him as he reclined on the sofa. But slowly the details of the case began to sink into his consciousness. He sat up and focused his attention on the TV screen. It was a case from the States from many years ago, but the circumstances seemed eerily familiar. He hurried to press the 'record' button on the VCR, hoping he wasn't recording over the last episode of one of Erica's reality shows. If so, the family jewels would be at risk. It was in such situations that his dear life partner usually threatened to get out a rusty pair of scissors.

The M.E. in charge of the analyses spoke at great length and in detail. He showed diagrams and photos to explain the course of events as clearly as possible, and Patrik had no difficulty following along. An idea began to take shape in his mind, and he nervously checked again to see that the 'record' symbol was visible on the VCR's display. He was going to have to watch the show a couple of more times.

After playing the segment three more times, he felt as certain as he could be. But he still needed to get a little help with his memory. Excited and well aware of the urgent nature of his quest, he went upstairs to find Erica in the bedroom. She had Maja next to her, so he assumed that their daughter was getting a little reward for sleeping so well in the pram during the day.

'Erica,' he whispered and shook her shoulder gently. He was terrified of waking Maja, but he had to talk to Erica.

'Unnh,' was the only reply, and she made no attempt to move.

'Erica, you have to wake up.'

This time he got a response. She gave a start, looked around in confusion, and said, 'What? What is it? Is Maja awake? Is she crying? I'd better fetch her.' Erica sat up and was about to get out of bed.

'No, no,' said Patrik, carefully pushing her back down on the bed. 'Shh, Maja is sleeping like a log.' He pointed at the little bundle that now squirmed a bit.

'So why are you waking me up?' said Erica morosely. 'If you wake Maja I'll murder you.'

'Because I have to ask you something. And it can't wait.'

He quickly told her what he'd just learned and then asked the question weighing on his mind. After a moment of astonished silence she gave him his answer. He told her to go back to sleep, kissed her on the cheek and hurried back downstairs. With a grim expression on his face, he punched in a number that he looked up in the phone book. Every minute counted.