She nods, her palm still clamped to her face. Then she removes it and says, ‘I’m sorry.’ She smiles a broad, beautiful smile and says, ‘We weren’t even married anymore.’ Her smile breaks out into a stunted laugh. ‘But I still loved him. That doesn’t go away so easily.’

I take out my Dictaphone.

‘I’m deaf, you see. I don’t want to mishear your words.’

‘Of course.’

‘Arne took up walking in the boar forests earlier this year. He wanted to get fit, even though he’s been pretty fit all his life. Soccer and plumbing.’ She looks at me. ‘That’s why he was in Visberg forest that day. On that steep hillside.’

‘What do you think happened, Annika. I mean, do you have any theories? Did Arne have any enemies you know of?’

She looks up at the ceiling. ‘I’ve told the police all I know.’ She looks at me again. ‘He had scuffles and scraps in the past. He spoke his mind, you see, didn’t back down from an argument. But most people liked Arne. He helped people out if they were in a fix. Generous with the money he had. Always very generous with his tenants and friends. He’d help out if he could.’

‘Did he have any fights or arguments recently?’

She sips her coffee.

‘Not recently that I know of, but we haven’t been speaking regularly. The divorce only went through last year.’ She glances out the window. ‘Arne never got on with Dr Edlund, the town dentist. They played off in a charity golf competition over near Torsby a few years ago, not the Edlund’s course, a public one. Sven was there in his plus fours with his 50,000-kronor clubs, each one monogrammed. All the latest gear. He’s part owner of the local private course, see. And Arne beat him with his father’s old bag of clubs. Wooden things and old broken tees.’ She chuckles and a tear appears on her lid. ‘Sven Edlund never lived it down.’

‘Any other run-ins? Any rivalries or bad blood?’

She pours us both more coffee.

‘It’s probably nothing.’

I stay silent. One of Lena’s tricks.

‘He’s had an ongoing issue with Hans Wimmer, the German clockmaker on the square.’ Hans is Austrian, but I let that go. ‘Arne inherited an old pocket watch from his father. It was a Longines. Over a hundred years old. Not terribly valuable but it was his prized possession. Anyway, Arne took it to Hans for a service because it had stopped working. Hans Wimmer told Arne it was a fake, a re-dial or something, the parts had been messed around with, probably fifty years ago. Not original. Arne took that as a slur on his father’s legacy. They never spoke again after that.’

‘Thank you, Annika. Is there anything else? Any other detail?’

‘I don’t know if I should say.’

I wait.