‘Yes,’ he said, and seemed to relax a bit.

‘Is it a sequel? To The Mermaid?’

Christian smiled. ‘There is no sequel to The Mermaid,’ he told her, turning to look out at the sea. Then he added, hesitantly, ‘I don’t understand how anyone would dare.’

‘Sorry?’ Erica didn’t think she’d said anything that would cause him to smile. ‘What do you mean by “dare”?’

‘Dive.’

Erica turned to see what he was looking at, and suddenly she understood what he meant.

‘You mean from the diving tower? At Badholmen?’

‘Yes.’ Christian was staring at it without blinking.

‘I’ve never dared. But on the other hand, I have to admit that I’m afraid of the water, which is rather embarrassing considering that I grew up here.’

‘I’ve never dared either.’ Christian spoke in a voice that sounded far away, almost dreamy. Erica waited anxiously for him to say more. There was something in the air, a tension that seemed close to bursting point. She didn’t dare move, she hardly dared breathe. After a few moments Christian went on. But he no longer seemed aware of her presence.

‘She dared.’

‘Who?’ Erica whispered the question. At first she didn’t think she’d get an answer. Silence settled between then. Then Christian said in such a low voice that his words were barely audible:

‘The Mermaid.’

‘In the book?’ Erica didn’t understand. What was he trying to say? And where was he? Not here, at any rate. Not in the present moment, not with her. He was someplace else, and she sincerely wished she knew where that was.

The next instant the mood had passed. Christian took a deep breath and turned to face her. He was back.

‘I want to focus on my new manuscript. Not sit around giving interviews and writing birthday greetings in the books that I’m asked to sign.’

‘That’s all part of the job, Christian,’ Erica calmly pointed out. She couldn’t help feeling a bit annoyed at his arrogance.

‘You mean I have no choice in the matter?’ He spoke calmly, but there was still an underlying tension.

‘If you weren’t prepared to take on that part of the job, you should have said so from the beginning. The publisher, the marketplace, and the readers – and, for God’s sake, they’re the most important of all – expect us to devote some of our time to them. If an author doesn’t want to do that, he needs to make it clear right from the start. You can’t change the rules in the middle of the game.’

Christian looked down at the floor, and she saw that he was listening carefully, taking in what she was saying. When he raised his head, he had tears in his eyes.

‘I can’t, Erica. It’s impossible for me to explain, but…’ He shook his head and tried again. ‘I can’t. They can ostracize me, blacklist me, I don’t care. I’ll keep on writing, because that’s what I have to do. But I can’t play their game.’ He began vigorously scratching his arms as if there were ants swarming under his skin.

Erica looked at him with concern. Christian was like a taut string that might snap at any moment. But she realized that there was nothing she could do about it. He didn’t want to talk to her. If she was going to solve the mystery of the letters, she would have to look for answers on her own, without his help.

He stared at her for a moment and then abruptly pulled his chair closer to the table with the computer.

‘I have to get back to work now.’ His face was expression less. Closed.

Erica stood up. She wished she could see inside his head and pluck out his secrets, which she knew had to be in there. She was sure they were the key to everything. But he had turned his attention to the computer screen, focusing intently on the words that he’d written, as if they were the last things he would ever read.

She left without saying another word. Not even goodbye.

Patrik sat in his office, trying to fight off an overwhelming sense of fatigue. He needed to concentrate and be alert, now that the investigation had reached a critical stage. Paula stuck her head in the door.

‘What’s happening?’ she asked, taking in Patrik’s unhealthy pallor and the beads of sweat on his forehead. She was worried about him. It was impossible not to notice that he’d been looking worn-out lately.

Patrik took a deep breath and forced his thoughts back to the latest development.

‘Lisbet Bengtsson’s body has been taken to Göteborg for a post-mortem. I haven’t talked to Pedersen, but considering that it’ll be a few days yet before we have the results on Magnus Kjellner, I’m not counting on anything regarding Lisbet until the beginning of next week, at the earliest.’

‘So what do you think? Was she murdered?’

Patrik hesitated. ‘When it comes to Magnus, I’m sure it was homicide. The injuries he sustained couldn’t possibly have been self-inflicted; they could only be the result of an assault. As for Lisbet… I don’t really know what to say. She had no visible injuries that I could see, and she was seriously ill, so she could have simply died from her disease. If it weren’t for that note, that is. Someone had been in her room and put that piece of paper in her hand. But whether that was done before she died, as she was dying, or after her death, it’s impossible to say. We’ll have to wait for Pedersen to give us more information.’

‘What about the letters? What did Erik and Kenneth say? Did they have any theory about who might have sent them? Or why?’

‘No. They both say they haven’t a clue. And right now I see no reason not to believe them. But it seems incredible that three people would be selected at random to receive letters like that. They know each other and spend time together. There must be some sort of common denominator. Something that we’ve overlooked.’

‘In that case, why didn’t Magnus receive any letters?’ Paula asked.

‘I don’t know. He may have got some but didn’t tell anyone about them.’

‘Have you asked Cia?’

‘Yes, I asked her as soon as I heard about the threatening letters that had been sent to Christian. She claimed that her husband hadn’t received any such thing. If he had, she would have known about it and reported it to us in the very beginning. But it’s hard to know for sure. Magnus may have kept quiet in order to protect her.’

‘It feels like the whole thing has started to escalate. Entering someone’s house in the middle of the night is a lot more serious than sending a letter in the post.’

‘You’re right,’ said Patrik. ‘I’d like to give Kenneth police protection, but we just don’t have the staff to do that.’

‘No, we really don’t,’ Paula agreed. ‘But if it turns out that his wife was actually murdered, then…’

‘We’ll have to rethink the whole case if that’s true,’ replied Patrik wearily.

‘Have you sent the letters to the lab for analysis, by the way?’

‘Yes, I sent them off at once. And I included the letter that Erica took from Christian.’

‘That Erica stole, you mean,’ said Paula, trying to hide her smile. She’d teased Patrik mercilessly when he’d tried to defend his wife’s actions.

‘Okay, yes, she stole the letter.’ Patrik blushed. ‘But I don’t think we should get our hopes up. So many people have already handled those letters, and it’s hard to trace ordinary white paper and black ink. You can buy them just about anywhere in Sweden.’

‘True,’ said Paula. ‘There’s also a risk that we’re dealing with someone who is very careful to erase their tracks.’

‘That’s possible, but we might also get a lucky break.’

‘So far that hasn’t happened,’ muttered Paula.

‘No, it hasn’t…’ Patrik sank back on his chair, and they both pondered the case in silence.

‘Tomorrow we’ll make a fresh start. We’ll meet at seven o’clock to go over all the material and then proceed from there.’

‘A fresh start tomorrow,’ Paula repeated and then went back to her own office. They really needed some sort of breakthrough right now. And Patrik looked as though he needed a good night’s rest. She resolved to keep an eye on him. He didn’t look at all well.