Jens Friberg arrives about thirty minutes after she called him. He has three uniformed officers with him in the VW van, and two more following in a patrol car. Henry Morell left the scene some time ago, screeching away with gravel spraying up around his tyres, and the rain is more persistent now. Anna is pleased to see that Jens makes no attempt to lift the police tape and go tramping over to the birch tree to look at the body. He parks the van right behind her car, then flips open the back as a protection from the rain and spreads out a large map.

‘I thought you might need to orientate yourself.’ He shows her the spot where they are standing, then moves his finger a centimetre or so to the contour lines marking the ridge. ‘There’s a forest track up here that people tend to use to reach the viewpoint. If the deceased travelled there by car, then that’s probably where his vehicle is. If it’s OK with you, I was thinking of taking two men and going to look for it. We also need to cordon off the viewpoint and protect the area from the rain as best we can. We brought a couple of tarpaulins.’

‘Good thinking. The CSIs are on their way from Helsingborg, but it’s likely to be at least an hour before they get here.’

‘OK.’

‘There’s something you need to know,’ she says as he’s about to turn and leave. ‘Our victim was behind the fight at the party on Saturday. He gave the DJ a USB stick with a song by Simon Vidje on it, and gave him money to play it when Caia Bianca was on the dance floor. It was that song that triggered the whole thing.’

‘Shit!’ Jens is clearly taken aback. ‘Have you told Henry?’

She shakes her head. Jens chews his upper lip, but says nothing. Anna is still not sure of him; only a few days ago she regarded him as a rival, possibly even an enemy. However, right now he is her only real resource. Sometimes you just have to roll with the punches, she thinks before Håkan can pipe up.

‘I saw the victim on Saturday night,’ she says. ‘He was watching the fight, and seemed to find it all very amusing. With hindsight I’m increasingly convinced . . .’ She falls silent, tries to read Jens’s face, but without success. She decides to keep going. ‘. . . that the whole thing was planned. That he was there with the intention of starting something.’

Jens nods slowly, then glances over at the birch tree. ‘In which case he succeeded beyond expectations, wouldn’t you say?’

*

Jens calls her after about forty minutes to tell her that they’ve found a battered old Saab 900 only a few hundred metres from the viewpoint.