‘On that point I have to object,’ said Mellberg. ‘As the police chief here, I should be the one to handle such an important task as liaison with the media.’

Patrik weighed his options. It would be a nightmare to give Mellberg free rein to talk with journalists. On the other hand, it might take too much energy to try to dissuade him.

‘Okay, let’s say that you’ll be the one to keep in contact with the media. But if I might offer a word of advice, it would be best if we say as little as possible, under the circumstances.’

‘Don’t worry. Considering my extensive experience, I’ll be able to twist them around my little finger,’ said Mellberg, leaning back in his chair.

‘Paula and I have been out to Trollhättan, as all of you probably already know.’

‘Did you find out anything?’ asked Annika eagerly.

‘I’m not sure yet. But I think that we’re on the right track, so we’ll keep digging.’ Patrik took another sip of water. It was time to tell his colleagues what they’d discovered and what he was having such a hard time digesting.

‘As Annika found out, Christian was orphaned at a very young age. He lived alone with his mother, Anita Thydell. There’s no record of who his father was. According to information from the social welfare office, the boy and his mother were terribly isolated, and at times Anita had difficulty caring for Christian because of a mental illness she suffered from, combined with drug abuse. The authorities kept a watchful eye on Anita and her son after receiving several calls from the neighbours. But apparently the only home visits were made during the periods when Anita had the situation more or less under control. At least that was the explanation we were given for why no one intervened. And the fact that “times were different” back then,’ Patrik added without concealing the sarcasm in his voice.

‘One day when Christian was three years old, another tenant reported to the welfare office that he’d noticed a stench coming from Anita’s flat. The authorities obtained a master key, and when they went in they discovered Christian alone with his dead mother. Presumably she’d been dead about a week, and Christian had survived by eating whatever he could find in the kitchen, and drinking water from the tap. But the food had apparently run out after a few days, because when the police and medics arrived, the boy was starving and weak. They found him huddled close to his mother’s body, only semi-conscious.’

‘Good Lord,’ said Annika, and her eyes filled with tears. Gösta was also blinking away tears, and Martin’s face had turned green. He looked like he was fighting hard not to be sick.

‘Unfortunately, Christian’s troubles didn’t end there. He was placed very quickly with a foster family, a couple by the name of Lissander. Paula and I paid them a visit today.’

‘Christian couldn’t have had an easy childhood with them,’ said Paula quietly. ‘To be honest, I got the impression that something wasn’t quite right with Mrs Lissander.’

Gösta felt something flash through his mind. Lissander. Where had he heard that name before? He somehow associated it with Ernst Lundgren, their former colleague who had been fired from the police force. Gösta tried to think what the connection could be. He considered telling everyone that the name sounded familiar, but then decided to wait until the explanation came to him on its own.

Patrik went on: ‘The Lissanders say that they’ve had no contact with Christian since he turned eighteen. That was when he apparently broke off the relationship with them and left.’

‘Do you think they’re telling the truth?’ asked Annika.

Patrik looked at Paula, who nodded.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Unless they’re very good liars.’

‘And they didn’t know of any woman who might bear some sort of grudge against Christian?’ Gösta asked.

‘They said they didn’t. But on that point I’m not sure they were being completely truthful.’

‘Did he have any brothers or sisters?’

‘They didn’t mention any, but maybe you could find out, Annika. That ought to be easy enough to research. I’ll give you all the names and information you need. Could you work on it right away?’

‘I can do it now, if you like,’ said Annika. ‘It won’t take long.’

‘Okay, great. There’s a yellow Post-it note with everything you need on the folder that’s lying on my desk.’

‘I’ll be back,’ said Annika, getting to her feet.

‘What about having a chat with Kenneth? Now that Christian is dead, he might decide to start talking,’ said Martin.

‘Good idea. So that means we have the following items on our to-do list: talk with Kenneth, and conduct a thorough search of Christian’s house. We also need to find out all the details of Christian’s life before he came to Fjällbacka. Gösta and Martin, I’d like you to talk with Kenneth, okay?’ They both nodded, and Patrik then turned to Paula. ‘You and I will drive over to Christian’s house. If we find anything of interest, we’ll call in the tech team.’

‘That sounds good,’ she said.

‘Mellberg, you’ll stay here at the station to answer any questions from the media,’ Patrik went on. ‘And Annika will keep digging into Christian’s past. At the moment we have a few facts to go on, at least.’

‘More than you thought,’ said Annika, appearing in the doorway.

‘Did you find out anything?’ asked Patrik.

‘Yes, I did,’ she said, giving her colleagues an excited look. ‘The Lissanders had a daughter two years after they took in Christian as a foster child. So he has a sister. Alice Lissander.’

‘Louise?’ Erik called, standing in the front hall. Could he be so lucky that she wasn’t at home? In that case, he wouldn’t have to think up some excuse to get her to leave for a while. Because he needed to pack his suitcase. He felt as if he had a fever, as if his whole body was screaming at him to get out of town.

He’d taken care of all the practical matters. He’d made a reservation under his own name for a plane departing tomorrow. He hadn’t bothered to set up a false identity. That would take far too much time, and to be honest, he really had no idea how to go about it. But there was no reason to believe that anyone would try to stop him from leaving. And after he reached his destination, it would be too late.

Erik hesitated outside the upstairs rooms belonging to his daughters. He wished he could go in and have a look around, as his way of saying goodbye. At the same time, he couldn’t get himself to do it. It was easier just to focus only on what he needed to get done.

He put the big suitcase on top of the bed. It was always stored downstairs in the basement, so by the time Louise noticed it was missing, he would be far away. He planned to leave tonight. What he’d learned from talking to Kenneth had shaken him badly, and he didn’t want to stay here even a minute longer. He’d write a note to Louise saying that he had to leave on an urgent business trip. Then he’d drive to Landvetter airport in Göteborg and get a room at a nearby hotel. Tomorrow afternoon he’d be sitting in a plane, heading for southern climes. Unreachable.

Erik tossed one item of clothing after another into the suitcase. He couldn’t take much. If the chest of drawers and wardrobe were noticeably empty when Louise came home, she’d know what he was up to. But he took as much as he could. Later he could buy new clothes. Money was not going to be a problem.

While he packed, he was on the alert for Louise’s arrival, not wanting her to surprise him. If she came home now, he’d have to shove the suitcase under the bed and pretend to be packing the small carry-on bag that he kept in the bedroom. That was the one he always took on business trips.

For a moment he paused. The memory that had surfaced now refused to sink back into oblivion. He couldn’t say that it particularly upset him. Everybody made mistakes; that was only human. But he was fascinated by the fact that someone could be driven by such a single-minded purpose. After all, it had happened so long ago.