‘Let’s start by reviewing our investigation of Erik Frankel’s death in the light of these new developments. We need to see if we can find any links to Frans. Could you do that, Paula?’ She nodded. Then Martin turned to Gösta.

‘Gösta, find out what you can about Hans Olavsen. Check out his background, see if anyone can give us more details about his stay in Fjällbacka, and so on. Talk to Patrik’s wife, Erica. She seems to have done a lot of research on the subject, and Frans’s son was on the trail. Get them to share their information with you. I don’t think Erica will present any problems in that regard, but it might be necessary to press Kjell a bit harder.’

Gösta nodded, but he displayed considerably less enthusiasm than Paula had. It wasn’t going to be either easy or fun to dig up information from sixty years ago. He sighed. ‘All right, I’ll work on it,’ he said, looking as if he’d just been assigned the labours of Hercules.

‘Annika, could you let us know ASAP when you hear from the lab?’

‘Of course,’ she said, putting down the pad of paper on which she had been taking notes while Martin talked.

‘Okay. Let’s get on with it then!’

Martin watched them troop out of the room, his face flushed with satisfaction at having successfully led his first investigative review.

Patrik put down the phone after finishing his conversation with Martin and went straight upstairs to see Erica.

‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ he said, tapping on her work-room door, ‘but I think you’ll want to hear this.’ He sat down on the armchair in the corner and recounted what Martin had told him about Hans Olavsen – or rather, the body that they thought was Hans Olavsen’s – and the terrible injuries he had suffered.

‘I assumed that he’d been murdered… But this seems…’ Erica was clearly upset.

‘Yes, somebody really had a score to settle with him,’ Patrik said. Then he noticed that he had interrupted Erica as she was once again reading through her mother’s diaries.

‘Have you found anything interesting?’ he asked, pointing to the books.

‘No, not really,’ she said, frustrated. ‘They stop right about the time that Hans Olavsen came to Fjällbacka, and that’s really the moment when things started to get interesting.’

‘And you have no idea why she stopped keeping a diary at that point?’ asked Patrik.

‘No, and that’s the thing: I’m not sure that she did stop. It seems to have been an ingrained habit of hers to write for a while every day, so why would she suddenly stop? No, I think there must be more diaries somewhere, but God only knows where…’ she said pensively, twisting a lock of hair around her finger, a habit that Patrik was quite familiar with by now.

‘Well, you’ve searched the whole attic, so they can’t be up there,’ he said, thinking out loud. ‘Do you suppose they might be in the basement?’

Erica thought for a moment, but then shook her head. ‘No, I went through the whole basement when we cleaned up before you moved in. I have a hard time believing they would be here in the house, but I don’t have any other ideas where they could be.’

‘Well, at least you’re getting some help with your research into Hans Olavsen. Kjell is working on it, and I have great faith in his ability to ferret out information. And Martin said that they’re going to work on it too. He’s asked Gösta to liaise with you.’

‘Okay. I have no problem sharing my information with the police,’ said Erica. ‘I just hope Kjell has the same attitude.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ replied Patrik. ‘He’s a journalist, after all, and I’m sure he sees a story in all of this.’

‘I still wonder…’ said Erica, rocking her chair back and forth. ‘I still wonder why Erik gave those newspaper articles to Kjell. What did he know about the murder of Hans Olavsen that he wanted Kjell to find out? And why didn’t Erik just tell him what he knew? Why be so cryptic and evasive?’

Patrik shrugged. ‘We’ll probably never know. According to Martin, my colleagues at the station believe everything comes back to Frans. They think he murdered Hans Olavsen, and that he killed Erik and Britta in order to cover it up.’

‘Okay, I suppose there’s plenty of evidence that points in that direction,’ said Erica. ‘But there’s still a lot that…’ She let the sentence remain unfinished. ‘There’s so much that I still don’t understand. For example, why now? After sixty years? Hans had been lying in his grave undisturbed for sixty years, why did all of this come to the surface now?’ She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she pondered the question.

‘I have no idea,’ said Patrik. ‘There could be any number of reasons. We’ll probably just have to accept that the key events happened so far back in the past that we’ll never have a whole picture.’

‘You’re probably right,’ said Erica, clearly disappointed. She reached for the bag of sweets on her desk. ‘Would you like a Dumlekola?’

‘Sure,’ said Patrik, taking one out of the bag. In silence they munched on the sweets as they thought about the mystery of Hans Olavsen’s brutal death.

‘So you think it was Frans? Are you positive? And is it certain that he murdered Erik and Britta too?’ said Erica at last, studying Patrik’s expression.

‘Yes, I think so. At any rate, there’s not much to indicate that he didn’t do it. Martin’s expecting the lab report to come through on Monday, and it sounds as though that will at least confirm that he killed Britta. I imagine, now the investigation has homed in on Frans, they will turn up evidence to link him to Erik’s murder. As for Hans… he was murdered so many years ago that I doubt we’ll ever have a complete explanation for it. The only thing is…’ He made a wry face.

‘What? Is there something that seems odd to you?’ asked Erica.

‘Not odd, exactly. Just that Frans had an alibi for the time when we think Erik was killed. But his pals could be lying. Martin and the others will have to look into that. That’s my only reservation.’

‘And there’s no question about Frans’s death? No doubt that it was suicide, I mean?’

‘No, apparently not. It was his own gun, he was still holding it in his hand, and the barrel was still in his mouth.’

Erica grimaced as she pictured the scene in her mind. Patrik went on: ‘So, if we confirm that his fingerprints were on the gun and that he had powder residue on the hand that was holding it, then for all intents and purposes we’re looking at suicide.’

‘But you didn’t find a suicide note?’

‘No. Martin said they haven’t found anything like that. But people who commit suicide don’t always leave a note.’ He got up and tossed the sweet wrapper into the wastebasket. ‘Okay, I should let you work in peace, sweetheart. Try to get some work done on your book, otherwise the publisher is going to start breathing down your neck.’ He went over and kissed her on the lips.

‘Yes, I know,’ sighed Erica. ‘I’ve already made some headway today. What are you and Maja going to do?’

‘Karin phoned,’ said Patrik lightly. ‘We’ll probably go for a walk as soon as Maja wakes up.’

‘You’re certainly taking a lot of walks with Karin,’ said Erica, surprising herself by how disapproving she sounded.

Patrik looked at her in astonishment. ‘Are you jealous? Of Karin?’ He laughed and went over to give her another kiss. ‘You have no reason in the world to be jealous.’ He laughed again, but then turned serious. ‘Listen, if you really have a problem with me seeing her, please tell me.’

Erica shook her head. ‘No, of course not. I’m just being silly. There aren’t a lot of people you can spend time with now that you’re on paternity leave, so it’s good for you to have some adult company.’

‘Are you sure?’ Patrik studied her intently.

‘Yes, I’m sure,’ said Erica, waving him out of the room. ‘Go now. Somebody in this family needs to be working.’

He laughed and closed the door behind him. The last thing he saw as he peeked through a crack in the door was Erica reaching for one of the blue diaries.