She leaned against him all the way to Fjällbacka.

‘You certainly embarrassed me yesterday,’ said Erik. He was standing in front of the mirror in the bedroom, trying to knot his tie.

Louise didn’t respond. She merely turned her back to him, rolling over on to her side.

‘Did you hear what I just said?’ He raised his voice a bit, but not enough so the girls could hear him from their rooms across the hall.

‘I heard you,’ she said in a low voice.

‘Don’t do that again. Ever! It’s one thing for you to behave like a drunk here at home in the daytime. As long as you can stay on your feet when the girls are around, I don’t care what else you do. But I bloody well won’t have you coming over to the office.’

No answer. It annoyed him that she offered no defence. He preferred her caustic remarks to this silence.

‘You disgust me. Do you know that?’ The knot of his tie ended up too far down, and he swore as he tore it apart to try again. He cast a glance at Louise. She was still lying on the bed with her back turned, but now he saw that her shoulders were shaking. Damn it. This morning was just getting better and better. He despised her hangovers, which were always accompanied by tears and self-pity.

‘Stop that. You need to pull yourself together.’ He could feel how the same old admonitions, repeated over and over, were starting to wear out his patience.

‘Are you still seeing Cecilia?’ Her voice was muffled by the pillow. Then she turned over to face him to hear his answer.

Erik looked at her with distaste. Without make-up and without the disguise of expensive clothes, she looked ghastly.

She repeated her question. ‘Are you still seeing her? Are you fucking her?’

So she knew. That was more than he’d expected from her.

‘No.’ He thought about the last conversation that he’d had with Cecilia. He didn’t want to talk about it.

‘Why not? Are you already tired of her?’ Louise had taken hold of the topic like a pit bull.

‘Let’s just drop it!’

There was no sound from the girls’ rooms, and he hoped that they hadn’t heard. He realized that he must have been shouting. But he didn’t want to think about Cecilia or the child that he was going to be forced to support in secret.

‘I don’t want to talk about her,’ he said in a calmer tone of voice as he finally got his tie knotted.

Louise was staring at him, her mouth agape. She looked old. Tears had collected at the corners of her eyes. Her lower lip was quivering as she kept looking at him without saying a word.

‘I’m going to the office now. Get your arse out of bed and make sure the girls get to school on time. If you can manage that.’ He gave her a cold stare and then turned away. Maybe it would be worth the money to be rid of her after all. There were plenty of women who would be overjoyed to accept what he had to offer. She would be easy to replace.

‘Do you think he’s in any shape to talk to us?’ Martin asked Gösta. They were driving out to Kenneth’s house, even though neither of them really wanted to disturb him so soon after his wife’s death.

‘I don’t know,’ replied Gösta, his voice clearly indicating that he didn’t want to talk about it. Both of them fell silent.

After a while Gösta asked, ‘So how’s it going with the little girl?’

‘Great!’ Martin’s face lit up. After a long series of un successful relationships, he had almost given up hope of ever having a family of his own. But Pia had changed all that, and in the fall she’d given birth to a baby girl. His bachelor life now seemed like a distant and not particularly pleasant dream.

Silence again. Gösta drummed his fingers on the steering wheel but stopped after Martin gave him an annoyed look.

Both of them jumped when Martin’s mobile rang. When Martin answered, his expression grew more and more sombre.

‘Change of plan,’ said Martin as he ended the call.

‘What do you mean? What’s going on?’

‘That was Patrik. Something has happened over at Christian Thydell’s house. He phoned the station and was practically incoherent. But it’s something to do with his kids.’

‘Bloody hell.’ Gösta stomped on the gas pedal. ‘Hold on,’ he told Martin and drove even faster. He could feel his stomach starting to clench up. He’d always had a hard time dealing with cases involving children. And it hadn’t got any easier over the years. ‘Couldn’t Patrik tell you anything more?’

‘No,’ said Martin. ‘Christian was in such a state that Patrik couldn’t get a sensible word out of him. He and Paula are also on their way, but we’ll get there first. Patrik said not to wait for them.’ Martin was looking pale too. It was bad enough to arrive at a crime scene if they were prepared for what they were going to see. But right now they had no idea what was in store for them.

When they drove up in front of the Thydell house, they didn’t bother to park the car properly. Gösta brought it to a skidding halt, and then they both jumped out. No one answered when they rang the bell, so they opened the door.

‘Hello! Anyone home?’

They heard sounds coming from overhead, so they dashed upstairs.

‘Hello? It’s the police.’ They shouted again, but there was still no answer. From one of the rooms they heard sobs and the high-pitched screams of a child interspersed with the sound of splashing water.

Gösta took a deep breath and looked inside. Sanna was sitting on the bathroom floor, crying so hard that her whole body shook. In the bathtub sat the two little boys. The water was a faint pink colour, and Sanna was vigorously scrubbing their small bodies.

‘What happened? Are they hurt?’ Gösta stared at the children in the tub.

Sanna turned around, gave them a hasty look, and then turned back to her sons.

‘Are they hurt, Sanna? Should we ring for an ambulance?’ Gösta went over to her, squatted down, and put his hand on her shoulder. But Sanna didn’t reply. She just kept on scrubbing, without much result. The red wasn’t coming off. In fact, it just seemed to be spreading.

Gösta took a closer look at the boys and felt his pulse start to slow down. The red colour wasn’t blood.

‘Who did this?’

Sanna sobbed as she used the back of her hand to wipe away the drops of pink water that had sprayed her face.

‘They… they…’ Her teeth were chattering, and Gösta squeezed her shoulder to reassure her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Martin was standing in the doorway.

‘It’s paint,’ he told Martin. Then he looked again at Sanna. She took a deep breath and made another attempt to speak.

‘Nils was calling for me. He was sitting up in bed. This… this is how they looked. Somebody had written on the wall, and some of the paint must have spattered on to their beds. I thought it was blood.’

‘But you and Christian didn’t hear anything during the night? Or this morning?’

‘No, nothing.’

‘Where is the children’s room?’ asked Gösta.

Sanna pointed out into the hall.

‘I’ll go take a look,’ said Martin, turning around to leave.

‘I’ll come too.’ Gösta forced Sanna to meet his gaze before he stood up. ‘We’ll be right back. Okay?’

She nodded. Gösta stood up and went out into the hall. From the children’s room he could hear loud voices.

‘Christian, put that down.’

‘I have to get this off…’ Christian sounded just as confused as Sanna, and when Gösta entered the room he saw him holding a big bucket of water, ready to toss the contents at the wall.

‘We need to have a look at it first.’ Martin held up his hand towards Christian, who wore only his underwear. On his chest were red flecks of paint that he’d no doubt acquired when he helped Sanna carry the boys to the bathroom.

Now he made an attempt to throw the water at the wall, but Martin leaped forward and grabbed the bucket. Christian offered no resistance. He let go of the handle and just stood there, swaying slightly.