He went out to the kitchen, let the water run in the tap until it was ice-cold, filled a pitcher full of water and then walked calmly into the living room. With a cheerful smile on his lips he poured the ice-cold water over his son's uncovered body and got precisely the effect he wanted.

'What the fuck!' yelled Simon, and was off the sofa in a flash. He shivered and grabbed a towel from the floor to dry himself off.

'What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?' he said sullenly and pulled on a T-shirt with a skull on it and the name of a heavy metal band.

'Breakfast is served in five minutes,' said Mellberg as he went out to the kitchen whistling. For a brief moment he had forgotten his career-related worries and was instead extremely pleased with the plan he'd worked out for their future father-and-son activities. Lacking porn clubs and casinos, they would have to take what there was, and in Tanumshede that meant the petroglyph museum. Not because he was particularly interested in doodles carved on stone slabs, but it was at least something that they could do together. Because he had decided that would be the new theme of their relationship – togetherness. No more playing video games hour after hour, no more TV-watching until late in the evening since it effectively killed all communication. Instead they would have dinner together with fruitful discussions and afterwards possibly a game of Monopoly to round out the evening.

He enthusiastically presented his plans to Simon over breakfast but had to admit that he was a bit disappointed at the boy's reaction. Here he was taking great pains to do everything so that they could get to know each other. He was renouncing the activities he personally enjoyed and sacrificing himself by going to the museum with the boy. Simon's response was to sit there staring morosely into his bowl of Rice Krispies. Spoiled, that's what he was. His mother had sent him to his father in the nick of time. The boy clearly needed discipline and guidance.

Mellberg sighed as he headed off to work. Being a parent was a heavy responsibility.

Patrik was at work by eight o'clock. He too had slept poorly, more or less simply waiting for it to be morning so he could get going on what had to be done. The first thing was to check whether last night's conversation had made any difference. His finger trembled a little as he dialled the number that he now knew by heart.

'Uddevalla Hospital.'

He gave the name of the doctor he wanted to speak with and waited impatiently as he was paged. After what seemed like an eternity the call was put through.

'Yes, hello, this is Patrik Hedström. We spoke last night. I wonder whether my information has been of any use.'

He listened tensely and then made a gesture of victory with his clenched fist. Yes! He'd been right!

After he hung up he began whistling as he considered the consequences now that his hunch had proved to be right. They would have a lot to do today.

His second call was to the prosecutor. He had rung him with an identical request less than a year ago, and since what he had asked was so unusual, he hoped that the prosecutor wouldn't have a fit.

'Yes, you heard correctly. I need to get permission for an exhumation. Again, yes. No, not the same grave. We've already opened that one, haven't we?' He spoke slowly and clearly and tried not to sound impatient. 'Yes, it's urgent this time as well, and I'd be grateful if the request could be processed immediately. All the required documents are on the way by fax. You've probably received them already. And the documents refer to two requests, both the exhumation order and another search warrant.'

The prosecutor still seemed dubious, and Patrik felt irritation creeping over him. With a hint of sharpness in his voice he said, 'We're investigating the homicide of a child, and another person's life may be at risk. This is not a request that I make lightly. I'm doing so after careful consideration and only because the continued progress of the investigation requires it. So I'm counting on your office to pull out all the stops to process this as fast as humanly possible. I would like a reply before lunch. Regarding both matters.'

Then he hung up and hoped that his little outburst wouldn't have the opposite effect and put the brakes on the whole thing. But that was the chance he had to take.

With the worst task behind him, he made a third call. Pedersen sounded tired when he answered. 'Hello, Hedström,' he said.

'Good morning, good morning. Sounds like you had to work last night.'

'Yes, things really piled up here in the wee hours. But we're about to see the end of it, just some paperwork left and then I'm out of here.'

'Sounds like a rough night,' said Patrik and felt a little guilty because he'd rung the M.E. to nag him after what had obviously been a really tough shift.

'I assume you want the test results from the ashes on the shirt and overalls. I actually got them in late yesterday afternoon, but then things got crazy here.' He gave an exhausted sigh. 'Did I hear right that the overalls belong to your daughter?'

'Yes, that's right,' said Patrik. 'We had a nasty incident at home the other day, but thank goodness she wasn't hurt.'

'That's good to hear,' said Pedersen. 'I can understand why you're on pins and needles waiting for the result.'

'I won't deny it. But I actually didn't think that you'd have the results back already. So, what did you find out?'

Pedersen cleared his throat. 'Let's see… Yes, there doesn't seem to be any doubt. The composition of the ashes is identical with those we found in the girl's lungs.'

Patrik exhaled and then realized how tense he had been. 'So that's it, then.'

'That's it,' said Pedersen.

'Were you able to confirm the origin of the ashes? Are they from an animal or a human being?'

'Unfortunately we're not able to determine that. The remains have decayed too much, and the ash is too fine. With a bigger sample we might be able to trace it, but

'I'll wait for the news from a house search we're doing. Looking for the ashes is at the top of our list. If we find them, I'll send some over at once for analysis. Maybe you can find some larger particles,' Patrik said hopefully.

'Sure, but don't count on it,' said Pedersen.

'I don't count on anything any longer. But I can always hope.'

With the formalities taken care of, Patrik drummed his feet impatiently on the floor. Before the decision arrived from the prosecutor there wasn't much of a practical nature he could accomplish. But he knew that he wouldn't be able to sit in his office for a couple of hours twiddling his thumbs.

He'd heard the others show up at work one by one, so he decided to call a meeting. They all had to be brought up to date, and he realized that more than one of his colleagues would probably raise an eyebrow at what he had set in motion last night and this morning.

He was right. He got a lot of questions. Patrik replied as best he could, but there was still so much he couldn't explain. Way too much.

Charlotte rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She and Lilian had each been given a bed in a little room near the intensive care unit, but neither of them got much sleep. Since Charlotte hadn't brought anything with her from home, she'd slept in her clothes, and she felt incredibly rumpled and grubby when she sat up and began to stretch.

'Have you got a comb?' she asked her mother, who had also sat up.

'Yes, I think so,' said Lilian, digging in her worn handbag. She found one in the very bottom and handed it to Charlotte.

In the bathroom Charlotte stood in front of the mirror and studied herself critically. The light was mercilessly bright, clearly showing the dark circles under her eyes, and her hair stood on end in an odd, psychedelic hairdo. She carefully combed out the tangles until her hair had more or less regained her normal style. At the same time, everything to do with her appearance seemed so meaningless now. Sara kept hovering in the periphery of her vision, holding her heart in an iron grip.