Apparently, the answer is affirmative, because he steps aside to let Karl and Karen into the room.

Anita Kollbar is lying on her side with her knees pulled up slightly and one arm around a pillow. Karen notes that her thumb is continually stroking one of the corners of the pillowcase, as though the motion sooths and comforts her. Mathis used to do the exact same thing with the ear of his sheepskin teddy that was his constant companion for the first few years of his life. For him, it was a little piece of comfort in an incomprehensible but exciting world.

For Anita Kollbar, it’s probably an attempt to find the will to keep existing in a world that has been completely shattered. She’s going on fifty-seven; in the dim light trickling in through the almost closed blinds, she could as easily be eighty, Karen thinks to herself. Or eleven.

They’ve agreed that she will take the lead. Ask the questions, sit closer, while Karl hangs back, observing, seeing how the conversation develops.

‘Hi, Anita,’ she says. ‘My name is Karen Eiken Hornby and this is my colleague, Karl Björken. We’re from the police and we would like to talk to you. Is it OK if we sit down?’

‘Please. But I don’t think I have much to . . .’

Her voice is surprisingly steady at first, but then it fades into a faint whisper.

Karen pulls up a chair and sits down next to the bed while Karl takes a seat diagonally behind her.

‘Let me start by saying how sorry I am about what happened to you. Are you in a lot of pain?’

‘Not too bad so long as I don’t move. Not anymore. But they’re giving me painkillers.’

‘Let me know if there is anything I can do – if you want me to call a nurse or if you want us to leave, or anything. You’re in charge.’

No response.

‘Well, as I’m sure you understand, we want to know everything you can and feel able to tell us about what happened. Take your time, and if you need a break, just say.’

A nod.

‘We understand you were out for a run. Is that right?’

Another nod.

‘Could you maybe start by telling us about when you left your house? What time was it? Did you see anyone or notice anything unusual? Anything.’

‘It was early in the morning, just before six. Barely light out. Wanted to get a run in before work.’

Clipped sentences, her voice fading at the end of each one, as though to shield herself from the memories.

‘Do you usually go running around that time?’ Karen asks. ‘So early in the morning?’

‘Used to. Have had back problems so this was just the third time in a long time. Or maybe fourth . . . I don’t remember.’