‘Yes, we did,’ said Gösta, nodding. ‘And now I need your help. Are you willing to keep this to yourself or not?’

Ernst thought for a moment. Then he sighed and waved his empty glass.

‘Okay. Shoot.’

‘Do I have your word of honour that whatever I say stays here?’ Gösta stared hard at Ernst, who nodded reluctantly.

‘Okay, okay. Go ahead and ask your question.’

‘We’re investigating the murder of Magnus Kjellner, which I’m sure you’ve heard about. In the process we’ve come across the name Lissander. I don’t know why, but it sounds familiar. And for some reason the name makes me think of you. Do you recognize it?’

Ernst swayed a bit on his chair. There wasn’t a sound in the room as Ernst considered the question while Martin and Gösta both stared at him expectantly.

Suddenly Ernst broke into a smile.

‘Lissander. Of course I recognize that name. Bloody hell!’

They had agreed to meet at the one place that Patrik and Paula were sure they could find in Trollhättan: the McDonald’s right near the bridge. That’s where they’d had lunch only a few hours earlier.

Ragnar Lissander was waiting inside, and Paula sat down next to him as Patrik bought coffee for all of them. Ragnar seemed even more invisible than he had at home. A small, balding man in a beige coat. His hand shook slightly as he accepted the coffee cup, and he was having a hard time looking them in the eye.

‘You wanted to talk to us?’ said Patrik.

‘We… we didn’t really tell you everything.’

Patrik didn’t speak. He was curious to find out how the man was going to explain that they hadn’t mentioned having a daughter.

‘It hasn’t always been easy, you know. We had a daughter. Alice. Christian was about five when she was born, and it wasn’t easy for him. I should have…’ His voice faded, and he took a sip of coffee before continuing. ‘I think he was damaged for life after what he’d been through. I don’t know how much you know about it, but Christian was alone for more than a week with his dead mother. She was mentally ill and couldn’t always take care of him – or herself either. Finally she died in their flat, and Christian wasn’t able to tell anyone. He thought she was just asleep.’

‘Yes, we know about that. We talked to the social welfare authorities and got copies of all the documents relating to the case.’ Patrik heard how formal it sounded when he said ‘the documents’. But that was the only way for him to maintain the necessary distance from the horrible event.

‘Did she die from an overdose?’ asked Paula. They hadn’t had time to read through all the details yet.

‘No, she wasn’t a junkie. She went through bad periods when she drank too much, and she was on prescription drugs, of course. But it was her heart that finally gave out.’

‘Why was that?’ Patrik really didn’t understand.

‘She didn’t take care of herself, and the alcohol and drugs came into the picture too. She was also tremendously obese. She weighed well over three hundred pounds.’

Something began stirring in Patrik’s subconscious. Something that didn’t make sense. But he’d have to think about that later.

‘And then Christian came to live with you?’ said Paula.

‘Yes, then he came to live with us. Iréne was the one who decided we should adopt him. We didn’t seem able to have any children of our own.’

‘But you never did adopt him, right?’ asked Patrik.

‘We probably would have if Iréne hadn’t got pregnant soon afterwards.’

‘That actually happens quite often,’ said Paula.

‘That’s what the doctor said too. And after our daughter was born, Iréne didn’t seem interested in Christian any more.’ Ragnar Lissander looked out of the window, holding his coffee cup in a tight grip. ‘Maybe it would have been better for the boy if she’d got her wish.’

‘And what was that?’ asked Patrik.

‘To give him back. She didn’t think we needed to keep him since we had our own child.’ He gave them an embarrassed smile. ‘I know how that sounds. Iréne can be difficult at times, and sometimes it gets a bit crazy. But she’s not always as mean as it sounds.’

A bit crazy? Patrik was about to choke in disgust. They were talking about a woman who wanted to give back her foster child after she had a child of her own. And the old man was actually defending her.

‘But you didn’t take him back, did you?’ he said coldly.

‘No. It was one of the few occasions when I put my foot down. At first she refused to listen, but when I told her that it would look bad, she agreed to let him stay. I probably shouldn’t have though…’ Again his voice faded, and they could see how hard it was for him to be talking about this topic.

‘How did Christian and Alice get along with each other when they were growing up?’ asked Paula, but Ragnar didn’t seem to hear. He seemed to be far away in his own thoughts. Quietly he said:

‘I should have taken better care of her. That poor boy. He didn’t understand a thing.’

‘What didn’t he understand?’ asked Patrik, leaning forward.

Ragnar gave a start and woke up from his reverie. He looked at Patrik.

‘Would you like to meet Alice? I think you need to meet her in order to understand.’

‘Yes, we’d like to meet Alice.’ Patrik couldn’t hide how agitated he felt. ‘When can we do that? Where is she?’

‘We can go there now,’ said Ragnar, getting to his feet.

Patrik and Paula exchanged glances as they walked to the car. Was Alice the woman they were looking for? Were they finally going to put an end to this case?

She was sitting with her back to them when they came in. Her long hair reached past her waist. Dark and gleaming.

‘Hi, Alice. It’s Pappa.’ Ragnar’s voice echoed in the very plain room. Someone had made a half-hearted attempt to add some cosy touches, but without entirely succeeding. A drooping potted plant stood on the windowsill, and a poster for the film The Big Blue hung on the wall above a narrow bed with a worn coverlet. There was also a small desk with a chair placed in front of it. That was where she was sitting. Her hands were moving, but Patrik couldn’t see what she was doing. She didn’t react when her father spoke to her.

‘Alice,’ he repeated, and this time she slowly turned around.

Patrick looked at her in surprise. The woman in front of him was stunningly beautiful. He quickly calculated that she must be about thirty-five, but she looked at least ten years younger. There wasn’t a wrinkle on her oval face. Her eyes were enormous and very blue, with thick black lashes. He found himself staring at her.

‘She’s a beautiful girl, our Alice,’ said Ragnar, going over to her. He placed his hand on her shoulder, and she leaned her head against him. Like a kitten pressing close to its master. Her hands lay limply on her lap.

‘We have visitors, Alice. This is Patrik and Paula.’ He hesitated. ‘They’re friends of Christian’s.’

A glint appeared in her eyes when she heard her brother’s name. Ragnar gently stroked her hair.

‘So now you know. Now you’ve met Alice.’

‘How long?’ Patrik couldn’t stop staring at her face. The resemblance to her mother was striking. Yet there was something very different about the way Alice looked. All the malevolence that had become etched into her mother’s face was absent from this… magical creature. He realized that was a strange way to describe her, but he couldn’t think of anything better.

‘A long time. She hasn’t lived at home since the summer she turned thirteen. This is the fourth place she’s lived. I didn’t much care for the others, but this one is quite nice.’ He leaned forward and kissed his daughter on the top of the head. There was no reaction in her face, but she pressed closer to him.

‘What…?’ Paula didn’t know how to formulate her question.

‘What’s wrong with her?’ said Ragnar. ‘If you ask me, there’s nothing at all wrong with her. She’s perfect. But I know what you mean. And I’ll tell you in a minute.’