The publishing director brushed a few crumbs from a chair before sitting down at the kitchen table. Erica quickly grabbed a dishcloth and ran it over the tabletop, which she hadn’t had time to do since breakfast and then Anna had come to visit.

‘My sister was just here,’ she explained, removing the empty ice-cream container.

‘I hope you know it’s a myth that you can eat for two when you’re pregnant,’ said Gaby, staring at Erica’s enormous stomach.

‘Hmm,’ said Erica, restraining herself from giving a caustic reply. Gaby wasn’t known for being particularly tactful. Her own slender figure was the result of a disciplined diet and regular workouts with a personal trainer at the downtown Stockholm health club Sturebadet three times a week. Nor did her body show any signs of past pregnancies. Her career had always been her highest priority.

Out of pure spite, Erica set a platter of pastries on the table and pushed it over towards Gaby.

‘Wouldn’t you like a pastry?’ She watched as Gaby was torn between her desire to be polite and a desperate urge to say ‘No, thanks.’ Finally she reached a compromise.

‘I’ll take half of one, if you don’t mind.’ Gaby carefully broke off a piece, with a look on her face as if she were about to stuff a cockroach in her mouth.

‘So you said you wanted to talk to me about Christian, right?’ said Erica. She couldn’t restrain her curiosity.

‘Yes. I can’t understand what’s going on with him.’ Gaby seemed relieved that the pastry dilemma was over, and she took a big gulp of coffee to wash down the piece she had eaten. ‘He says he refuses to do any more promotion for his book, but that’s just not right. It’s unprofessional!’

‘He does seem to be taking all the media attention rather hard,’ Erica ventured, again feeling guilty about her own part in the whole affair.

Gaby gestured with her well-manicured fingers. ‘I know. And I do understand that. But it’ll soon blow over, and all the fuss has given book sales a real boost. People are curious about him and about his novel. I mean, in the end, Christian is going to reap the benefits. And he must realize that we’ve put a tremendous amount of time and money into launching him and his work. So we expect some cooperation from him in return.’

‘Sure, of course,’ murmured Erica, although she was unsure of her own stand on this issue. On the one hand, she understood Christian’s attitude. It must be awful to have his personal life exposed in the media like that. He was just starting his writing career, and the attention he received at this point was supposed to serve him well for many years to come.

‘Why don’t you talk to him about this yourself?’ she asked cautiously. ‘Shouldn’t you be having this discussion with Christian?’

‘We had a meeting yesterday,’ replied Gaby curtly. ‘And you might say that it didn’t go very well.’ She pressed her lips together as if to underscore what she’d just said. Erica realized that it must have been a real disaster.

‘Oh, that’s unfortunate. But I think Christian is under a lot of stress right now, and maybe we should overlook -’

‘I understand, but at the same time, I’m running a business and we have a contract with Christian. Even though it doesn’t spell out in detail what his obligations are regarding dealing with the press, helping with marketing efforts, and so on, it’s understood that we expect certain things from him. Some authors may get away with acting like hermits and not participating in events that they consider beneath them. But those writers are already established and have a big audience for their books. Christian isn’t there yet, not by a long shot. He may reach that position some day, but an author’s career isn’t built overnight, and with the flying start that he’s had with The Mermaid, he owes it to himself and to his publishing house to make certain sacrifices.’ Gaby paused, giving Erica a stern look. ‘I was hoping that you might explain this to him.’

‘Me?’ Erica didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t at all convinced that she was the right person to persuade Christian to throw himself to the wolves again. Especially since she was the one who had lured them to his door in the first place.

‘I don’t know if that would be such a good -’ She searched for a diplomatic way of declining the task, but Gaby cut her off.

‘Excellent. Then that’s decided. You’ll go see him and explain what we expect from him.’

‘But what…’ Erica looked at Gaby, wondering what on earth she had said that might be interpreted as an affirmative response. But Gaby was already getting to her feet. She smoothed down her skirt, picked up her purse, and slung the strap over her shoulder.

‘Thanks for the coffee and the chat. I’m glad we have such a great working relationship, you and I.’ She leaned down and air-kissed Erica on both cheeks and then clacked across the floor, heading for the front door.

‘Don’t bother getting up. I can find my way out,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘Bye bye.’

‘Bye bye,’ replied Erica with a wave. This time it wasn’t like being hit by a train – it was like being completely smashed flat.

Patrik and Gösta jumped in the car and headed out within five minutes of receiving the call. At first Kenneth Bengtsson could hardly manage more than a few words, but after a moment Patrik understood what he was trying to say. His wife had been murdered.

‘What the hell is going on here anyway?’ Gösta shook his head, keeping a tight grip on the handle fastened above the window on the passenger side of the car. He always did that when Patrik was driving. ‘Do you really need to take the curves so fast? I’m practically plastered to the windscreen.’

‘Sorry.’ Patrik slowed down a bit, but it wasn’t long before his foot was again pressing down on the accelerator. ‘What’s going on, you ask? That’s what I’d like to know too,’ he said with a grimace as he cast a glance in the rear-view mirror to make sure that Paula and Martin were close behind.

‘What did he say? Did she have stab wounds too?’ asked Gösta.

‘I couldn’t get much out of him. He sounded like he was in shock. He just said that he came home to find his wife murdered.’

‘From what I’ve heard, she didn’t have long to live,’ said Gösta. He loathed anything having to do with illness and death. For most of his life he’d been waiting to come down with some sort of incurable disease. All he wanted was to get in as many games of golf as possible before that happened. But right now Patrik looked more like a victim of ill health than he did.

‘You don’t look so good, by the way.’

‘You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,’ said Patrik, annoyed. ‘You have no idea what it’s like to have both a full-time job and a toddler at home. Impossible to keep up, impossible to get enough sleep.’ Patrik regretted his words as soon as they left his lips. He knew that the greatest sorrow in Gösta’s life was that his son had died shortly after birth.

‘Forgive me. That was stupid,’ he said.

Gösta nodded. ‘That’s okay.’

Neither of them spoke for a while. They listened to the sound of the tyres on the road as they drove along the motorway, heading for Fjällbacka.

‘It’s nice about Annika and the little girl she’s going to adopt,’ said Gösta at last, his expression softening.

‘Yes, but it certainly is a long wait,’ said Patrik, glad to talk about something else.

‘I’m surprised it takes so long. I had no idea. I mean, the child is there, so what’s the problem?’ Gösta was almost as frustrated about it as Annika and her husband Lennart were.

‘Bureaucracy,’ said Patrik. ‘And I suppose we should be grateful that they check up on everyone properly and don’t hand over the children to just anybody.’

‘You’re right about that.’

‘Okay, we’re here.’ Patrik turned into the drive in front of the Bengtssons’ house and parked the car. A second later the other police car pulled up, with Paula at the wheel. When she turned off the engine, the only sound was the soughing of the wind in the nearby woods.