She turned and headed for the kitchen. That was where her parents spent most of their time. Her mother liked to knit, while her father sat at the table doing crossword puzzles, although lately he’d switched to sudoku.

‘Mamma?’ said Madeleine from the doorway. She stopped abruptly.

‘Hi, honey.’ That voice, so gentle yet laced with contempt. She would never be able to escape from it.

Her mother’s eyes were filled with fear. She was sitting on a chair facing Madeleine, with the muzzle of a gun pressed to her right temple. Her knitting was on her lap. Madeleine’s father sat in his usual place near the window; a muscular arm wrapped around his neck made sure that he didn’t move.

‘We’ve been talking about the old days, my parents-in-law and I,’ said Stefan calmly. Madeleine saw how he pressed the gun even harder against her mother’s temple. ‘It’s nice to see you again. It’s been a long time.’

‘Where are the children?’ asked Madeleine, her voice little more than a croak. Her mouth had gone dry.

‘They’re in a safe place. Those poor kids. It must have been traumatic for them to be in the hands of a psychotic woman and not be allowed to see their father. But we’ll make up for lost time now.’ He grinned, and his teeth flashed between his lips.

‘Where are they?’ She had almost forgotten how much she hated him. And how scared she was of him.

‘I told you, they’re safe.’ He pressed the gun even harder, and her mother winced with pain.

‘I was thinking of coming to see you. That’s why we came home,’ she pleaded. ‘I realized that I’d made a mistake. I came back to make things right.’

‘Did you get the postcard?’

It was as if Stefan hadn’t heard a word she said. Madeleine couldn’t understand how she’d ever found him attractive. She’d been so in love with him, convinced that he looked like a movie star with his blond hair, blue eyes, and chiselled features. She was flattered that he’d chosen her, when he could have had any woman he wanted. She was only seventeen and not very worldly. Stefan had courted her, showering her with compliments. The other side of him – his jealousy and need to control – hadn’t come out until later. And by then it was too late. She was already pregnant with Kevin, and her self-esteem was so dependent on Stefan’s opinion and attention that she couldn’t leave him.

‘The postcard arrived,’ she said, feeling suddenly very calm. She was no longer seventeen years old, and she had met a man who loved her. She pictured Matte’s face and knew that she owed it to him to be strong. ‘I’ll go with you. Just leave my parents alone.’ She shook her head at her father, who was trying to get up. ‘I need to work this out. I shouldn’t have left. That was the wrong thing to do. We’re going to be a family now.’

Stefan suddenly took a step forward and struck her across the face with the gun. She felt the steel slam against her cheek and dropped to her knees. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Stefan’s thug force her father back down on to his chair. She wished with all her heart that her parents didn’t have to get involved in this.

‘We’ll see about that, you whore.’ Stefan grabbed her by the hair and began dragging her away. She struggled to stand up. The pain was horrible; it felt as if her whole scalp was being torn off. Still gripping her hair, he turned around and aimed his gun towards the kitchen.

‘You’re not going to say a word about this. You’re not going to do a fucking thing. Or else this will be the last time you’ll see your daughter. Understand?’ He pressed the gun against Madeleine’s temple and looked first at her mother, then her father.

They nodded mutely. Madeleine didn’t dare look at them. If she did, she’d lose all courage, lose the picture of Matte that she held in her mind, the image that was telling her to be strong, no matter what. She kept her eyes fixed on the floor as she felt a burning sensation at the roots of her hair. The gun was cold against her skin, and for a moment she wondered whether she’d feel the bullet boring into her brain or whether the light would simply go out.

‘The children need me. They need us. We can be a family again,’ she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

‘We’ll see about that,’ Stefan said. His tone of voice scared her more than his grip on her hair, more than the gun pressed to her head. ‘We’ll see about that.’

Then he dragged her towards the front door.

‘Everything points to Stefan Ljungberg and his pals,’ said Patrik.

‘So his wife is back in town?’ asked Ulf.

‘Yes, and his kids too.’

‘That’s not good. She should have stayed as far away from that guy as possible.’

‘She didn’t want to tell us why she came back.’

‘There could be a thousand different reasons. I’ve seen it happen so many times before. They get homesick, they miss their family and friends, or their life after running away doesn’t turn out the way they’d imagined. Or the guy finds them and threatens them, so they decide they might as well come back.’

‘Are you aware that organizations like the Refuge sometimes provide help that’s not necessarily legal?’ asked Gösta.

‘Yes, but we choose to turn a blind eye to that sort of thing. Or rather, we choose not to waste any resources on it. They step in when society fails. We can’t protect these women and children the way we should, so … Well, what can we do?’ He threw out his hands. ‘So she thinks that her ex might be responsible for the murder you’re investigating?’

‘Yes, that’s what she seemed to think,’ said Patrik. ‘And we have enough evidence pointing in that direction that we’d like to have a talk with him.’

‘As I told you before, that’s not going to be easy. Partly because we don’t want to jeopardize the ongoing police investigations regarding IE and their activities. And partly because it’s best to stay out of the way of these guys, if at all possible.’

‘I’m aware of that,’ said Patrik. ‘But since the leads we’re following all point to Stefan Ljungberg, I’d consider it a dereliction of duty not to talk to him.’

‘I knew you were going to say that.’ Ulf sighed. ‘Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll bring along one of my best officers, and then the four of us will have a talk with Stefan. Not an interrogation, nothing aggressive that might provoke him. Just a little conversation. We’ll take it nice and easy and see what we can find out. What do you say to that?’

‘Okay. We don’t really have much choice.’

‘Good. But we’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning. Do you have a place to stay tonight?’

‘I suppose we can stay with my brother-in-law.’ Patrik cast an enquiring glance at Gösta, who nodded. Then he took out his mobile to ring Erica’s brother Göran.

Erica was disappointed when Patrik phoned to say that he wouldn’t be home until the following day, but she quickly got over it. What a difference that was from when Maja was the twins’ age. Back then, if he had called to say he was going to be delayed, she would have been seized with panic at the thought of spending a whole night alone with the baby. Now she would miss not having Patrik next to her in bed, but she wasn’t worried about taking care of three children on her own. Things seemed to have settled down, and she was glad that this time she was able to enjoy her babies in a way that had never been possible with Maja. That didn’t mean that she loved her daughter any less – not at all. She just felt calmer and more confident with the twins.

‘Pappa will be home tomorrow,’ Erica told Maja, who didn’t answer. She was watching Bolibompa on TV, and wouldn’t have noticed if bombs were falling outside the window.

Erica had fed the twins and changed their nappies. Content and full, they had fallen asleep in the cot that they shared. And for once the rooms downstairs were reasonably tidy. She’d had a burst of energy and done some cleaning after coming home from the day-care centre. Even now enough energy remained that she was feeling a bit restless.