“I wish I could, Inspector.”

“Yes, well—not to worry. We’ll just figure it out some other way, won’t we? Oh, there is one other thing that’s come up, Mr. Deadmarsh.”

“Something about Christine?”

“Unfortunately, no. More of an administrative matter involving your passport.”

“What about it?”

“Would you mind if I took another look?”

Slaton reached into his back pocket and handed the document over. Sanderson made a show of inspecting it, holding it up to the corridor’s bright fluorescent lights like a radiologist with an X-ray.

“Is there a problem?” Slaton asked.

Sanderson frowned and handed it back. “With the document, no. It looks perfectly in order.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “But I just took a rather curious phone call. One of our people back at headquarters performed a check on your immigration status—it’s only standard practice. You arrived at Arlanda earlier today, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“It seems that the electronic record of your arrival has somehow disappeared. The name on your passport brings up nothing now. The only Edmund Deadmarsh we could find in our backlog is an eighty-nine-year-old Englishman who hasn’t visited Sweden in thirty years.”

Slaton shrugged. “What can I tell you? It must be a computer glitch. I walked right through immigration and gave them my passport. I can even describe the officer I gave it to,” he added, guessing that Sanderson’s people had already verified that video.

“Yes, as you say, I’m sure it’s only some kind of computer foul-up. I have to get back to headquarters now. Why don’t you give me your mobile number. I’ll call you if we learn anything as to your wife’s whereabouts.”

Slaton gave his number. Sanderson handed over a business card in return, and said, “If you should hear from her, please let me know right away.”

“I will.” Slaton glanced toward the room they’d just left, and said, “I do have one question, Inspector.”

Sanderson cocked his head, inviting him to go on.

“The two men you showed me—did one of them shoot the other?”

The answer came quickly, “We don’t have that ballistics information yet.”

“But you said this happened in a public place, a café. Surely there were witnesses.”

Sanderson eyed him. “When I have everything sorted, I promise to let you know. Sergeant Blix will give you a lift wherever you like.”

“I’d like to go back to the Strand Hotel.”

Sanderson gave Blix the order.

Slaton asked, “Is it all right if I use Christine’s room at the hotel? I am paying for it, after all.”

Sanderson seemed to think about this, then said, “I don’t see why not. I’ll make sure the front desk knows about it.”

*   *   *