His apartment could have been used as an operating theatre. Sparkling clean. Neat, tidy and without as much as an innocent porn magazine in a drawer in the bedside cabinet. In the basement they found nothing but two pairs of skis, an old kicksled and four winter tyres. The man also had a computer. It contained not the slightest trace of viewing the increasing number, and borderline legal, pages of spicy adult entertainment.

Which in itself was so suspicious that Einar refused to give up. Uncle Bjørn was arrested on a Friday afternoon, a well-known move to get around the rule then in force about making an appearance for remand in custody within twenty-four hours. They could stretch it out all the way to Monday before going to court. On Sunday evening the police had still drawn a blank. The stories of the two Romsås children, unclear and slightly disjointed, were sufficient for an experienced policeman like Einar Falsen. But they were miles from guaranteeing a remand order. Far less a subsequent prosecution.

Then Uncle Bjørn’s grandmother phoned.

It turned out the suspect had a grandmother aged eighty-seven, sprightly and of sound mind, to judge from her voice. She had been given Einar Falsen’s name at the duty desk. She had been looking for her daughter’s son all weekend, and had finally learned from a neighbour that the police had been there and picked him up.

She could well imagine that a lovely man like Anders would be able to help the police, but might it be possible to let him know to get in touch with her as soon as he was finished with them?

Einar Falsen had a sudden idea. He wondered whether it might be the case that Anders kept some belongings at her house? Yes indeed, the grandmother proudly confirmed. After all, she had plenty of space, she’d been a widow for twenty years, and Anders was her only grandchild. He was such a good, considerate boy. He often visited her, and if Anders needed his yellow suitcase, then the police could most certainly come and collect it.

An hour later, at half past nine on the Sunday night, a rather despondent Anders sat in an interview room with Einar Falsen, wondering if he would be able to go home soon. A young police-woman came in with a large, heavy, bright yellow suitcase that was placed on the table between Einar and Anders.

Einar asked the prisoner for the code for the lock.

Anders broke down. Einar broke open the lock. The case was crammed with VHS videos and Polaroid pictures. It would take days to go through all the home-made videos, not least because the investigators had to take regular breaks from what they had to watch. However, Einar had immediately picked up a bundle of photographs.