Her parents wouldn’t have liked Fredrik. She had known that from the moment she met him, yet she had pushed the thought away. They had died and left her on her own, so why should they have the right to influence her life? That was how she had felt for a long time: that they had abandoned her.

Her father died first. One day he suffered a heart attack and collapsed at home, never to get up again. Death was instantaneous, the doctor had said, trying to console them. Three weeks later her mother had received her death sentence. Liver cancer. She lingered for another six months before she passed away in her sleep, for the first time in months with a peaceful, almost happy expression on her face. Nathalie sat beside her when she died, holding her hand and trying to feel what she ought to feel: grief and loss. Instead she was filled with anger. How could they leave her all alone? She needed them. With them she had felt safe; she had always been able to return to their embrace after doing something stupid, something that made them shake their heads and say gently: ‘But Nathalie, what were you thinking?’ Who was going to keep an eye on her now? Who was going to rein in her wild side?

She sat at her mother’s deathbed, and in a single moment she became an orphan. Only she was nothing like the orphan in Annie, a favourite film from her childhood. While that little girl had been adopted by a kindly millionaire, Nathalie was left to her own devices, with no one to stop her making impulsive and stupid decisions, or pushing the boundaries, even when she knew she shouldn’t. And so Nathalie took up with Fredrik – something which would have prompted her parents to have a serious talk with her. They would have tried to persuade her to drop him, to turn away from the life that would lead straight into the abyss. But they weren’t there. They had abandoned her, and deep in her heart she was furious about that.

She sat down on the sofa and drew her knees to her body, wrapping her arms around her legs. Matte had been able to soothe her anger. For a few hours, on one brief evening and night, she had not felt alone for the first time since her parents died. And now he was gone. She leaned her forehead on her knees and wept. She was still the little, abandoned Nathalie.

‘Is Erling in?’

‘He’s in his office. Go ahead and knock.’ Gunilla half-rose from her chair to point in the direction of Erling’s closed door.

‘Thanks.’ Gösta nodded and headed down the corridor. He was mortified at having to return on this errand. It wouldn’t have been necessary if he’d only thought to ask about Mats’s computer when he was here with Paula. But it hadn’t occurred to either of them on their last visit.

‘Come in!’ Erling said at once when he heard the knock. Gösta opened the door and went in.

‘If the police keep dropping in like this, we can stop worrying about security at the office.’ Erling put on his best politician’s smile and enthusiastically shook Gösta’s hand.

‘Er, yes, well, there’s one thing that I need to follow up on,’ muttered Gösta as he sat down.

‘Ask away. We’ll do whatever we can to help the police.’

‘It has to do with Mats Sverin’s computer. We’ve just done a search of his flat, and he seems to have had a laptop computer. Is it here at the office?’

‘Mats’s computer? I’ve no idea. Let me go and see.’

Erling stood up and went out into the hall, turning immediately to enter the neighbouring office. He came back almost at once.

‘No, it’s not here. Was it stolen?’ He looked nervous as he again took his place behind the desk.

‘We don’t know. But we’d like to get hold of it.’

‘Have you found Mats’s briefcase?’ asked Erling. ‘It’s brown leather. He always had it with him whenever he went to and from work, and I know that he often put his laptop inside.’

‘No, we haven’t found a brown briefcase.’

‘That’s not good. If the computer and briefcase have been stolen, sensitive information might fall into the wrong hands.’

‘What sort of information?’

‘I just mean that of course we wouldn’t want information about civic finances and the like to be spread willy-nilly without some sort of control being imposed. It’s public information, so there’s nothing secret about it, but we still want to know how and where the information is made available. And with the Internet, you never know where things end up.’

‘That’s true,’ said Gösta.

He couldn’t help feeling disappointed that the laptop wasn’t here in the office. What could have happened to it? Was Erling right to fear that it had been stolen? Or could Mats have stowed it somewhere other than in his flat?

‘Well, thanks for your help, anyway,’ said Gösta, getting to his feet. ‘I’m sure we’ll be in touch again. And if the laptop or briefcase should turn up, could you please phone us at once?’

‘Of course,’ said Erling, following Gösta out into the corridor. ‘Would you mind doing the same? It’s very worrisome to think that council property has disappeared like this. Especially now. Project Badis is the biggest venture we’ve ever embarked on.’ Erling stopped abruptly. ‘Wait a minute. When Mats left the office on Friday, he mentioned that there were some discrepancies that concerned him. He was going to take up the issue with Anders Berkelin, who is responsible for the Badis finances. You could ask him if he knows anything about the missing laptop. It may be a long shot, but as I said, we’d like to get it back most urgently.’

‘We’ll have a talk with him, and we’ll let you know as soon as we find the computer.’

Gösta sighed to himself as he left the council building. It looked as if there was going to be a lot of work to do on this case – too much work. And the golf season was already well under way.

The Refuge premises were discreetly located in an office park in Hisingen. Patrik missed the entrance at first but finally managed to find it after driving past a few times.

‘Do they know we’re coming?’ asked Paula as she got out of the car.

‘No. I decided not to give them any advance warning.’

‘What do you know about this organization?’ She nodded at the name printed on the sign in the entryway.

‘They help battered women, providing shelter when they need to escape. Hence the name of the group: the Refuge. They also offer support while the woman remains in the relationship, helping her and any children to leave the abusive situation. Annika said she couldn’t find out much more than that. They seem to operate with maximum discretion.’

‘Perfectly understandable,’ said Paula, pressing the button next to the name on the plaque. ‘Even though this wasn’t exactly an easy place to find, I assume that they don’t receive the women here.’

‘No. They probably have space somewhere else.’

‘Hello? The Refuge.’ A voice crackled over the intercom, and Paula gave Patrik an enquiring look. He cleared his throat.

‘My name is Patrik Hedström. My colleague and I are from the Tanum police. We’d like to come in and ask you a few questions.’ He paused. ‘It’s about Mats Sverin.’

Silence. Then they heard a buzzing sound and they were able to push open the door. The office was on the second floor, so they took the stairs. Patrik noted that the door to the Refuge offices was different from the other doors in the building. It was more solid, made of steel with a seven-lever deadbolt. They rang another bell, which prompted crackling over another intercom.

‘It’s Patrik Hedström.’

After a few seconds the door was unlocked.

‘Sorry. We always handle visitors with the greatest caution.’ A woman in her forties wearing worn jeans and a white sweater stood in the doorway. She held out her hand. ‘Leila Sundgren. I’m the director of the Refuge.’

‘Patrik Hedström. And this is my colleague Paula Morales.’