‘Since the moment he opened the door,’ Karl replies drily. ‘Holding your ID up to the peephole was a good idea. Too bad for him it’s so high up.’

‘Should I have asked him about that, do you think?’ Karen says. ‘How he knew we were from the police before he opened the door, I mean.’

‘I don’t think it would have changed anything,’ Björken replies and unlocks the car. ‘He would just have said that stuff about being able to stand up for short periods at a time.’

‘Yes, a nifty little loophole, that. I wonder how worried he is.’

‘Hopefully enough to lie low for a few days. I’m not going to be able to arrange around-the-clock surveillance until we have the results. How many did you get?’

‘Just two, but hopefully that’s enough.’

She touches the tissue in her pocket. Then she slides into the passenger seat.

‘Do you think Smeed’s going to buy it?’ she says and buckles her seatbelt.

Karl Björken takes a deep breath and puts the key in the ignition.

‘I bloody well hope so. But at least you seem to be feeling better. Tricky stuff, that gallstone business . . .’

She throws him a furtive glance. Nothing in his face to indicate that he suspects anything.

Nothing in his tone either, right?

Chapter 37

37

She hits the brakes with a curse and leans forward. The motorway slip road is bumper to bumper. Too late to turn around now. This is probably my punishment for not going back to work, she thinks to herself.

The news that she had a doctor’s appointment had raised both Karl Björken’s and Jounas Smeed’s eyebrows.

‘Half past three? What the hell kind of time is that? You’re going to miss the afternoon meeting.’

‘I’m sorry, but it was the only time they had. I actually think I mentioned it yesterday,’ she adds.

Did I?

‘Fine, whatever,’ Smeed had told her. ‘We’re not going to tell the group about this until we have results anyway. And not then either, if it turns out you’re wrong. If you are, it’ll be the last time I stick my neck out for you.’

But he had stuck his neck out. Jounas Smeed had listened and after thirty minutes of persuasion, he had agreed to send one of the cigarette butts Karen had pilfered from Gundar Freske’s overflowing ashtray to forensics for DNA analysis.

*

If I’m wrong, it’s going to cost me, she thinks now and stares despondently at the line of cars moving slower and slower.