“He was apparently very overwrought, and moved heaven and earth to help you. He got nurses to come running from all over the place, and the on-duty doctor turned up after just a few minutes. He claimed that your and Erik’s lives were in danger—said he was convinced you’d been poisoned, that you’d unknowingly taken an overdose of some drug or other and needed your stomach pumped straight away. He called the police and insisted the room be guarded round the clock, and that the contents of the two glasses on the nightstand be analysed. Apparently he was also the one who gave the order for your dad and me to be called and brought here.”

“And . . .?” Sandra said.

She was having great difficulty taking in what her mother had just told her. It simply didn’t add up; the logic was precarious. Hallin had shot himself in the foot by saving rather than taking her life? After having liquidated Norling in cold blood and subjected Erik to attempted murder? What had she missed?

“And that’s what happened,” her mother summarised. “He did all that and then he disappeared. Before the police showed up and without anyone finding out who he was. But perhaps you can tell us about that?”

That needed some thought—apparently not everything was as straightforward as it seemed.

“I don’t actually remember anything,” she replied. Which was not all that far from the truth, when all things were considered.

“It’ll come, you’ll see,” her mother said, smiling, running two fingers over her cheek.

“My computer . . .?” said Sandra, who had already prepared herself for the worst.

“In the cupboard where you keep your valuables,” her mother said, holding up the key. “Do you want me to get it?”

“Yes please,” Sandra said, even though she had no great expectations that the manuscript would still be on it.

But she was mistaken. The large document was strangely enough exactly where it was supposed to be, and at first glance the hitherto unpublished component was seemingly untouched. With an ever-so-small addition to the end: “Check the pictures in your inbox and remember what I said. Murder and kidnapping aren’t my thing. Like I said, I’d appreciate it if you humanised me. Get better soon.”

The thing about humanising was something she recognised. Now it all began to come back to her slowly. Sporadic memories from the minutes before it had all gone dark: Hallin’s appearance at her bedside, his unexpected confession to the rape and his promise to make good, his wish not to be described as a monster. Sandra also remembered that he had accused her of abusing her authority, while at the same time he had denied the most serious crimes in this whole affair.