But she was going to get to the bottom of this, rather than skipping over it because it might be hard. On Monday, during business hours, she would call their customer service line and ask how it worked—but first she would ask Sandra. She probably knew how to do it. She might even be able to access the information they needed quicker than that. Why hadn’t she thought of that straight away? It might have saved them the trouble of wandering around Tofta disguised as confused cleaners.

Sandra and Kerstin had exchanged phone numbers now so that they could reach each other at any time. Sandra was no longer just a voice in the night but also a friend she could call whenever she liked. And vice versa. Kerstin was very reluctant to abuse that trust, but this was about the six million kronor, which was important to their joint project. And it was urgent. So she stepped to one side and called Sandra, who picked up straight away.

“I’m so glad I caught you,” Kerstin said. “And sorry to bother you like this on a Sunday afternoon. But I wonder whether you’d be able to make use of your contacts to find out which properties Peter Norling owned? Or owns—he must still be in the system.”

Sandra was silent for a few seconds before replying.

“I should be able to do that. But not until I get to work, and I’m not sure when that will be. Is this about the stolen money?”

“It is,” Kerstin confirmed. “We found a summer house that we turned upside down, but with no joy. There may be a hunting cabin too, but if there is then we have no idea where it is. There might be more—I hope you can find that out?”

“As soon as possible. I’m a bit tied up right now.”

“Then I’ll get out of your hair,” said Kerstin.

“I’ll be in touch,” said Sandra, and she ended the call.

She sounded unusually curt. Kerstin hoped she hadn’t transgressed some invisible boundary by calling her on a Sunday.

53. Sandra

53

Sandra

THE HOPE THAT Erik would knock on the door had dissipated, so on Saturday Sandra had moved back into her parents’ place. It was now Sunday evening and Erik had been missing for more than forty-eight hours. The shared worry characterised the movements and tones of voice of all three of them, but none of them allowed themselves to lose their grip. Each one of them was processing their emotions in their own way and was preparing for what was to come.

Her mother was working in the kitchen, filling the fridge and freezer so that no one had to go hungry either now or when they became exhausted.