‘Not tonight, you can’t.’

‘Just for an hour, then I’m going on to Falun.’

‘Falun?’

I nod.

He shines his torch into the cab of my Hilux.

‘I’ll let you get past, then. Take care of yourself in Falun. Odd people.’

Oh, sure.

‘What happened here tonight?’ I ask.

‘Truck crashed into the bus shelter. Nobody hurt so we must count our blessings if truth be told.’

‘But, what about…?’ I point at the body bags.

‘Chimney sections.’

I frown. Like, what?

‘Driver had two lengths of double-insulated pipe in the back of his truck. Got people installing it this weekend onto his log-burner so he’s organised someone to pick the lengths up later this evening. They’re quite valuable, see. That’s why they’re protected.’

I let out a deep sigh of relief. ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘Oh, no, you won’t,’ he says. ‘Road will be closed till tomorrow now. Whole town’s shut off. Only one road in and one road out. You head back on the river route when you’re done in Falun. Visberg’s closed for the night.’

‘I can do that. Mind if I take photos of the bus shelter?’

‘No harm, no foul,’ says the Sheriff.

I get out and the fog is rolling down the hillside and through the pine trunks either side of the asphalt. I photograph the truck because it’s a story but also I want the number plates so I can check out what exactly is going on here. I photograph the shelter. Then I carry on up the hill.

More fire baskets have been placed around the town square. The giant bee on top of the Hive is still squeaking, and a man with an extendable ladder is inspecting the streetlights. I need to find a suitable place to hide my Hilux. If I’m to blend in on Pan Night, observe, photograph, get a grip on this place, eavesdrop, then I need to keep my truck out of sight. I drive past Konsum and on towards Annika’s place and see a ‘Road Closed’ sign in the distance. I pull a U-turn and head back the other way, between the Hive and the dental surgery. Smaller houses, some Radhus semi-detached, some detached. But nowhere I can hide this hulking pick-up truck.

The fog’s thickening so I drive slow. Trundling along in the hope I’ll find a distant car park or scenic picnic spot. Somewhere I can pull off the road.

There’s a young woman up ahead holding two Konsum carrier bags. I wind down my window.

‘Excuse me, can I ask…’

‘Hello again,’ she says.

‘Sorry? I…’

‘It’s Julia.’ She smiles a goofy smile. ‘From the dentist? I checked you in.’