She doesn’t need to look, but glances down anyway. The photo shows a grey box with wires and cables coming out of the back, and a display on the front. An infusion pump with smooth rubber buttons. If they are pressed in a certain sequence, the morphine will flow freely and Håkan will no longer feel any pain.

Three, three, seven, five, nine, two. Select.

‘Did you do it?’ the investigator asks. ‘Did you murder your husband?’

*

Anna wakes to find she is holding her breath. It is early in the morning, wet and windy. She pulls on her raincoat and goes outside to get rid of the traces of what Agnes has begun to refer to as the Rabbit Mystery. She was too tired to deal with it last night. She’s glad that Agnes regards it as some kind of joke; she herself is not so sure. She gingerly picks up a disembowelled rabbit in each hand and heads for the outbuilding and the bins. As she gets closer she sees Bror Klein’s pickup truck parked around the corner. The door of the outbuilding is wide open, and she can hear someone rummaging around inside. She calls out ‘Hello?’ knocks on the door frame and steps inside. Presumably this place used to be a garage back in the day, but now it looks like a rubbish dump. The air smells of dampness and rust, and the floor is covered with scrap. The metal shelves lining the walls are crammed with tins of paint, bottles and boxes. At the far end of the room there is a small, dark doorway – that’s where the noise is coming from.

‘Hello!’ she calls out again. The noise stops and Klein appears.

‘Oh,’ he says, looking uncomfortable. ‘I just came to collect a couple of things. I didn’t want to disturb you at this early hour.’

‘No problem.’

They stand there in silence.

‘Er – are you settling in OK?’

Klein’s attempt at small talk surprises her. ‘We are. It’s so quiet, and so beautiful. Exactly what we need.’

Klein nods. ‘And how about work? How’s it going with Henry Morell? Has he handed over the reins?’

‘I think it’s gone pretty well so far. I take over first thing tomorrow morning.’ The first sentence grates a little; she can’t help thinking back to the previous evening’s events.

Klein nods again; he seems to have run out of topics of conversation. Anna’s eyes have grown accustomed to the gloom, and she can see something large and blue further down the room. ‘Is that Karl-Johan’s slide?’ she asks.

Klein gives a start – almost imperceptible, but enough for her experienced eye to pick up. ‘How do you know about that?’

‘Göran told me when he delivered Agnes’s moped.’

‘He talks too much. Always has done.’