On the folder of South Coast Highway documents she had written This is lethal! Call me. Best, Úrsúla. She was going to be here for her successor, to warn him or her of the hazards. There was just one folder left on her desk and this was the one she wanted to finish herself.

‘Hello, Rósa,’ Úrsúla said as the girl’s mother answered the phone. ‘I have an idea that I’d like you and your daughter to consider. It states in the report that Jónatan gave Katrín Eva an unusually large amount of money that night, much more than he normally paid for babysitting. Even his wife corroborates that.’

‘That’s right.’

‘I’d like to point out that buying sexual services from a minor is a punishable offence.’

There was silence. Úrsúla waited for a while, listening, and coughed gently to remind the woman that she was still on the line.

‘You mean that I should have my daughter be branded the town whore?’

There was a resignation in her voice, a flatness that had replaced the usual burning anger.

‘It’s something to consider. Sexual offences that seem most likely to make their way through the justice system concern purchasing sex. So there’s at least a probability that the man would receive a sentence. If it works out, it wouldn’t exactly be justice. 249But it would go some way towards it. At any rate, he wouldn’t be able to serve any longer as a police officer.’

Úrsúla ended the call by telling the girl’s mother once again how painful it was that she had not been able to keep the promise she had made to her on her first day in office.

Her desk was now clear, except for the slim green folder she had brought with her to work, and which she would take home with her. This was the folder Gunnar had given her containing all the documents related to her father’s death. She had eyed it, and held it in her hands for some time, but hadn’t trusted herself to open it. But now, as she finally did so, she was astonished. Her heart skipped a beat and she gasped.

Could it be true? She stared at the sheet of paper in front of her with a cold flash of understanding. In her life, she had experienced only a few such moments, when all the threads came together, leading to a conclusion that had previously evaded her. This piece of paper would explain so much, and maybe lead to some kind of justice after all. She took a picture of the report and sent it to Boris with a message. She was considering calling him to follow this up when Eva swept into her office, a look of something approaching desperation on her face.

‘Úrsúla, evening news!’

She said nothing more, but fussed with the little television on the wall, her hands trembling as she handled the remote control.

‘That’s our cleaner, isn’t it?’ Úrsúla said in surprise as the picture finally appeared.