‘Edlunds Bruk,’ he says. ‘Oldest industrial family in the area, much older than the Grimbergs, even.’ He gestures in the direction of the salt liquorice factory across the road. ‘One of the Edlunds set up Pan Night hundreds of years ago, if I remember correctly. Before all the modern American Halloween nonsense. As I recall – and Visberg was never really my patch, I’ve only visited once as a boy, and after that Ragnar Falk was always a territorial so-and-so, from what I remember – it was like a thank you to the local people. Modern employers may take their staff out for dinner, or even away for a team-building outdoor activities weekend.’ He shudders. ‘Thank goodness Lena isn’t interested in that kind of thing. The Edlunds asked the Visberg locals to leave a single, empty pan outside their front doors after the sun went down. A saucepan or similar. Then the family grandees, the board and so on, the most wealthy and powerful of the senior Edlunds, they’d walk around and drop money in each of the pans. A few silver coins, that’s all. But it evolved over the years to a net of coins and a riddle. Sometimes a sketch or a carved bone for the children of the steelworkers. Each generation of Edlunds put their own twist on it.’

‘Okay.’

‘Some twists were stranger than others. I’m not sure when the practical jokes started to overtake the kindnesses. But in the late nineteenth century, the Edlunds distanced themselves from the whole enterprise. Locals took it upon themselves to surprise their own neighbours. Feuds were settled on that very night each year. And the pans grew in size, I’m told. Some of them cauldrons or feeding troughs. From what I understand, the whole thing fizzled out in the ’80s as Halloween became the groovy new thing. Why do you ask?’

‘Because so far nobody in Visberg wants to talk about it.’

‘Hill people,’ says Lars, like that explains everything.

I squeeze behind my new desk and Sebastian comes back in. He’s lost some of his pretty-boy shimmer but he still looks like he’s here by accident. Got lost on the E16 and never found the route out again.

I write up my notes and order my stories for the next issue. Sebastian starts making calls and Lars has a frog in his throat so I pull out my hearing aids to focus.

Blessed relief.