‘And I assume that plenty of people are aware of that, right?’ Martin looked up from his notebook after jotting down 10 years and drawing a circle round it.

‘There’s never been any reason to keep it a secret.’ A smile suddenly appeared on Kenneth’s face, but vanished just as swiftly.

‘Did you meet anyone while you were out running this morning?’ asked Gösta.

‘No, not a soul. I seldom do. Sometimes I’ll see someone who’s up early walking their dog, or someone out pushing a pram. But that rarely happens. Usually I’m alone on the path. Like this morning.’

‘And you didn’t see a car parked somewhere near your route?’ Martin received an appreciative glance from Gösta when he asked that question.

Kenneth paused to consider. ‘No, I don’t think so. I can’t say for sure. It’s possible that someone was there and I just didn’t see them. But no, I’m sure I would have noticed.’

‘So there was nothing out of the ordinary?’ Gösta persisted.

‘No, it was just like every other morning. Except that…’ His words hung in the air and tears began spilling down his cheeks.

Martin was ashamed that he found it embarrassing to see Kenneth cry. He felt at a loss for words and didn’t know whether he should do something or not. But Gösta calmly reached across Kenneth and took a tissue from the table. Then he gently wiped the tears from Kenneth’s face. After that, he again reached across and put the tissue back on the table.

‘Have you heard anything yet?’ whispered Kenneth. ‘About Lisbet?’

‘No, it’s much too early for that. It’ll be a while before we know what the medical examiner can tell us.’

‘She killed her.’ The man in the bed flinched and then seemed to shrivel up, staring into space.

‘Sorry, what did you just say?’ asked Gösta, leaning forward. ‘Who is “she”? Do you know who did this to you and your wife?’

Martin could tell that Gösta was holding his breath. He was too.

Something flashed in Kenneth’s eyes.

‘I have no idea,’ he said firmly.

‘You said “she”,’ Gösta pointed out.

Kenneth avoided looking at him. ‘The handwriting on the letters looks like it was done by a woman. So I’m just assuming that it’s a “she”.’

‘Ah, so that’s it,’ said Gösta, making it clear to Kenneth that he didn’t believe him, although he wasn’t going to say that to the man’s face. ‘There must be something that has made the four of you the targets. Magnus, Christian, Erik, and you. Someone has unfinished business with you. And all of you – well, except for Magnus – insist that you have no idea who is doing this, or why. But there must be an intense hatred behind such actions. The question is: what prompted that hatred? I have a hard time believing that none of you knows anything. You must at least have a theory.’ He leaned close to Kenneth.

‘It must be someone who’s mentally disturbed. I can’t think of any other explanation.’ Kenneth turned away again, pressing his lips tight.

Martin exchanged glances with Gösta. They both knew that they weren’t going to get anything more out of Kenneth. At least not for the time being.

Erica stared at the phone in shock. Patrik had called from the station to tell her that he was going to be late. Briefly he had also explained why, and she could hardly believe what she’d heard. To think that someone had gone after Christian’s children. And after Kenneth too. A cord strung across the path – simple but brilliant.

Her brain immediately began working overtime. There must be some way to make the investigation go faster. She could hear how frustrated Patrik had sounded, and she sympathized. The chain of events had begun to escalate, and the police were no closer to a solution.

She weighed the mobile in her hand as she thought things over. Patrik would be furious if she interfered in any way. But she was used to doing research for her books. Of course, what she wrote dealt with crimes that had already been solved, but it shouldn’t be much different to take a closer look at an ongoing investigation. And besides, it was so dreary just to hang around the house. She was itching to do something useful.

She could also rely on her gut instinct. It had helped her so many times in the past. Right now it was telling her that the answer would be found with Christian. After all, he had been the first to receive letters, he was very secretive about his past, and he was clearly nervous. Small but crucial factors. And after their conversation in the boathouse, she’d had the feeling that Christian knew something; there was something he was hiding.

Quickly, so as not to have time to regret her decision, she threw on her winter coat. As she drove, she would ring Anna and ask her if she could pick up Maja from the day-care centre. She’d be home before evening, but not in time to collect her daughter. It took an hour and a half to drive to Göteborg; that was quite a distance to go, just on a whim. But if she didn’t find out anything, she could always drop by to see Göran, her newly discovered half-brother.

The idea that she and Anna had a big brother was still almost incomprehensible. It had been upsetting to find out that during the Second World War their mother had given birth to a son and then given him up for adoption. But the dramatic events that had led to all this coming to light last summer had ended up producing something positive, and she and Anna had developed a close relationship with Göran. Erica knew that she was always welcome to stop by to see him and the woman he had grown up calling his mother.

Anna agreed at once to pick up Maja, who was much beloved by all the children, both Anna’s and Dan’s. Erica had no doubt that her daughter would come home worn out from playing, and stuffed with sweets.

Then Erica turned her attention to the task at hand. The work she had done writing books about real murders – books that had proved a big hit with the public – had provided good training in doing research. She just wished that she knew Christian’s civil registration number; that would have saved her a number of conversations. But she’d have to make do with his name. It suddenly came to her that Sanna had once mentioned that Christian was living in Göteborg when they met. At the library May had mentioned Trollhättan, and that was still nagging at Erica, but she decided that Göteborg had to be the logical place to start. That was where he had lived before coming to Fjällbacka, so she would begin there. She hoped she could then backtrack if necessary. She had absolutely no doubt that the truth lay in Christian’s past.

After speaking to four different people, she finally had something: the address where Christian used to live before he moved to Fjällbacka with Sanna. Erica stopped at a Statoil petrol station just outside of Göteborg and bought a map of the city. She also took time to use the loo and stretch her legs. It was terribly uncomfortable to drive with two babies in between her and the steering wheel. Her back and legs felt stiff and achy.

Just as she had wedged herself back into the driver’s seat, her mobile rang. Balancing her paper coffee cup in one hand, she grabbed the phone with the other and looked at the display. Patrik. She’d better let her voicemail take the call. She’d explain things later. Especially if she came home with something that might help the investigation. Then she could at least avoid some of the reproaches that she sensed were in the offing.

After one last glance at the map, she started up the car and pulled back on to the motorway. It was a little more than seven years since Christian had lived at the address where she was now headed. She suddenly had some doubts. What were the odds that she’d find anything that Christian might have left there? People moved all the time without leaving any trace behind.

Erica sighed. Well, she was already here, and Göran was sure to offer her a cup of coffee before she drove back home. So the drive wouldn’t have been totally in vain.