He looked once more at his targeted vehicles and knew it had to be. It was a perfect match for his needs, albeit the sort of theft that would require patience and planning, even creativity. His decision made, Slaton stepped out of the shadows and set to work.

*   *   *

The knock on Sanderson’s door came at half past eight that evening. He opened it to find his ex-wife.

“Ingrid … what on earth?” Seeing the concern on her face, he quickly surmised, “Blix called you, didn’t he?”

“How are you, Arne?”

“I wish everyone would stop asking me that.”

A gust of wind swept across the threshold. “Are you going to ask me in?”

“Yes, sorry.”

Sanderson turned and swept his eyes over the room. As best he could remember, Ingrid had not been here since moving out five years earlier, and he wondered how the place had changed in that time. He saw unkempt furnishings, a carpet that needed cleaning, an embarrassing stack of dirty dishes by the sink. There was no getting around it. “I’ve given the maid a year’s holiday.”

“It’s not so bad,” she lied.

“Can I offer you some tea?”

“Decaf would be nice.”

Sanderson put water on the stove, watching with an odd discomfort as she meandered the place they had shared for so long.

“How is my garden holding up?” she asked, peering into the darkness out the back window.

“Honestly? It looks like the Ardennes after a good German pounding.”

She smiled. “It doesn’t seem like five years, does it?”

“No,” he agreed.

“How is Alfred?” Sanderson asked, happy he hadn’t said “the toilet king.”

“Not well, actually. It’s his heart.”

Fishing through a cupboard for clean cups, Sanderson stopped what he was doing. He saw her sadness, and said, “I’m sorry, Ingrid. Really I am.”

She came closer and looked at him in the kitchen’s strong light. “You don’t look well, Arne.”

“What did Blix tell you?”

“He said you passed out at headquarters today. And he said you’ve been forgetful—that it’s become an issue at work.”

“It won’t be an issue any longer.” Sanderson turned back to the cupboard. “I quit today. It was a rash decision, I admit, but Sjoberg had just pulled me from a big case for no reason.”

“I did hear about that. You were working on these shootings?”

“Yes. He was quite unreasonable about the whole thing. But I suppose it was as good a time as any to pack it in. I’ve given them thirty-five years.”

“That must have been very difficult.”

“Not the way I did it. But we all knew it was coming. I only wish I could have finished the investigation I was working on.”