‘Oh, really?’ said Erica, sipping her coffee. No matter how healthy the tea was, she couldn’t do without caffeine.

‘How’s your sister doing?’ asked Vivianne as she patted Noel on the cheek.

‘Better, thanks.’ Erica smiled. ‘That was why I dropped by. I wanted to thank you for the advice you gave me. I think it helped.’

‘Good. There are lots of studies showing the healing effect of human touch.’

Noel started whimpering. After giving Erica an enquiring look, Vivianne lifted him out and held him in her arms.

‘He likes you,’ said Erica when her son instantly settled down. ‘He’s not always that easy to please.’

‘They’re both wonderful.’ Vivianne nuzzled her nose against Noel’s and he tried to grab her hair with his chubby little fists. ‘So now you’re probably sitting there wondering if you dare ask me why I’ve never had any kids of my own.’

Erica nodded with embarrassment.

‘I’ve just never been that lucky,’ said Vivianne, rubbing Noel’s back.

Something flashed, and Erica looked at Vivianne’s hand. ‘Wait a minute. Are you engaged? That’s fantastic! Congratulations!’

‘Thank you. Yes, it’s great.’ Vivianne smiled faintly and then averted her eyes.

‘Forgive me for saying this, but you don’t sound very enthusiastic.’

‘I’m just tired,’ said Vivianne, pushing her plait over her shoulder so Noel couldn’t reach it. ‘We’ve been working night and day, so it’s hard to muster much enthusiasm for anything. But of course I’m very happy.’

‘So maybe now …’ Erica motioned towards Noel and then realized she was being a little too pushy. At the same time, she couldn’t help herself. She could see so much longing in Vivianne’s face when she looked at the babies.

‘We’ll have to wait and see,’ said Vivianne. ‘Why don’t you tell me about your work. I realize that you’re on maternity leave right now and fully occupied with these two, but have you started thinking about a new book?’

‘Not yet. But I’m enjoying doing some research of my own in the meantime. Just to keep on my toes, so I don’t fill up my whole brain with baby prattle.’

‘Research on what?’ Vivianne was gently bouncing Noel up and down on her knee, and he appeared to be enjoying the motion. Erica told her about the trip out to Gråskär, about Nathalie, and about the local nickname for the island.

‘Ghost Isle,’ said Vivianne pensively. ‘There’s usually a grain of truth in those kinds of old legends.’

‘Well, I don’t know if I really believe in ghosts and spirits,’ laughed Erica.

‘There are plenty of things that we may not see but that still exist,’ said Vivianne, staring at her with a solemn expression.

‘Are you saying that you believe in ghosts?’

‘I think that’s the wrong word to use. But after working with health issues for so many years, it’s my experience that there’s more to us than the physical body. A person consists of energies, and energy never disappears; it just becomes transformed.’

‘Have you personal experience? Of ghosts, or whatever you want to call them?’

Vivianne nodded. ‘Many times. It’s a natural part of our existence. So if that’s the rumour about Gråskär, then there’s probably some truth to it. You should talk to Nathalie. I’m sure she’s seen manifestations out there. Provided she’s receptive to that sort of thing, of course.’

‘What do you mean by that?’ Erica was fascinated by this subject, hanging on Vivianne’s every word.

‘Some people are more receptive to such things – things that we can’t perceive with our normal senses. Just as some people can hear or see better than others, some of us are more perceptive than others. But everyone has the potential for developing that ability.’

‘I’m sceptical about that. But I’d love to be proven wrong.’

‘So go back out to Gråskär.’ Vivianne winked. ‘There seem to be plenty of them out there.’

‘All that aside, the island has an interesting history. I’d like to discuss it with Nathalie and find out what she knows. If nothing else, maybe she’s curious about the island’s past. And I could at least tell her what I’ve found out so far.’

‘I can see that you’re not very good at putting aside all other interests while you’re on maternity leave,’ said Vivianne with a smile.

Erica had to agree. It wasn’t her strong suit, playing the role of a full-time mother. She reached out for Anton. No doubt Nathalie would enjoy hearing more about the island and its history. Not to mention the ghosts.

Gunnar looked at the ringing telephone. It was the old-fashioned kind, with a number dial and a heavy receiver sitting on the cradle. Matte had tried to get them to replace it with a wireless phone. He had even given them one as a Christmas present a couple of years back, but it was still in its box somewhere down in the basement. They liked the old phone, he and Signe. Now it made no difference.

He continued to stare at the phone. Slowly his brain worked out that the shrill tone meant that he was supposed to pick up the receiver and answer.

‘Hello?’ He listened carefully to what the voice on the other end was saying. ‘That can’t be right. What kind of idiot are you? How can you even say such—’ Unable to bring himself to continue the conversation, he slammed down the receiver.

A moment later the doorbell rang. Still shaking from the phone call, Gunnar went to the front hall and opened the door. A camera flashed, and a flood of questions was hurled at him. He quickly slammed the door, turned the lock, and leaned his back against the wooden panelling. What was going on? He looked up at the stairs. Signe was resting in the bedroom. He wondered if she’d been awakened by all the commotion. What was he going to say to her if she came downstairs? He didn’t understand a word of what they’d told him. It was so preposterous.

The doorbell rang again. He shut his eyes, exhaustion flooding over him. Some sort of conversation was going on outside, but he couldn’t make out any of the words. All he could distinguish was the loud and angry tone of the exchange. Then he heard a familiar voice.

‘Gunnar, it’s Patrik and Gösta from the police. Could you let us in?’

Gunnar pictured Matte in his mind. First alive, then lying on the hall floor in a pool of blood and with the back of his head blown apart. He opened his eyes, turned around, and unlocked the door. Patrik and Gösta slipped inside.

‘What’s happening?’ asked Gunnar. Even to him his voice sounded strange and far away.

‘Could we sit down somewhere?’ Without waiting for an answer, Patrik turned towards the kitchen.

The doorbell rang again, along with the phone. The two sounds were piercing. Patrik lifted up the receiver, put it down, and then removed it from the cradle.

‘I can’t switch off the doorbell,’ said Gunnar in confusion.

Gösta and Patrik exchanged a look over his head, and then Gösta went back to the front door. He stepped outside, hastily pulling the door closed behind him. Once again Gunnar could hear angry voices flinging words at each other. A moment later Gösta returned.

‘That should keep them quiet for a while.’ Then he gently steered Gunnar towards the kitchen.

‘We need to speak to Signe too,’ said Patrik, his expression taking on a hint of embarrassment.

Now Gunnar was truly nervous. If only he knew what this was all about.

‘I’ll go get her,’ he said, turning around.

‘I’m right here.’ Signe was coming down the stairs, looking as if she’d just got out of bed. She wore a bathrobe wrapped tightly around her, and on one side of her head, her hair was standing on end. ‘Who keeps ringing the doorbell? And what are you doing here? Have you found out anything?’ She fixed her gaze on Patrik and Gösta.

‘Let’s all go into the kitchen and sit down,’ said Patrik.

Signe now looked just as uneasy as Gunnar.

‘What’s happened?’ She came down the last steps and followed them to the kitchen.