She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and visualises a volume control. Turns it all the way down to zero. The trick works and Håkan falls silent, at least for the time being. She decides to make the call she’s been putting off for the last half hour. She needs to tell Agnes that she won’t be home tonight.

Chapter 32

32

Autumn 2017

At about seven in the morning Anna nips home to Tabor to change her clothes and give Agnes a lift to the station. She is met by a less than happy Milo, who shoots between her legs and disappears among the trees. There is a note on the kitchen table.

Staying the night at Erik’s.

Five words, no signature. Nothing more than the information she needs to prevent her from worrying, and yet the brief note tells her something else: the fragile truce between them is probably over. It’s her fault; she promised Agnes that she would no longer work nights and leave her alone.

However, by the time she sets off for the police station, she is angry. She considers calling Agnes, telling her it’s not OK to sleep over at a friend’s without talking to her mother first, but Håkan has something to say.

There are more important things, aren’t there? Things you ought to tell her before she hears them elsewhere. The investigation is still ongoing . . .

She tries to shut him up, tries to explain to him that the status code on the computer screen doesn’t necessarily mean what he’s implying. It could just be that the prosecutor has been very busy, and hasn’t yet got around to dismissing the case. This could happen any day now, then Håkan can stop worrying. Leave her in peace and concentrate on being dead.

Her internal dialogue with her ex-husband is still going on when she arrives at the station. Several vehicles that she recognises from last night are parked outside, including the CSI van, back up from county HQ, and Jens Friberg’s VW. She follows the smell of wet clothes and finds the whole team in the kitchen, chatting to Henry Morell. The room is jam-packed, the atmosphere is relaxed, and she walks in on the end of a burst of laughter.

‘There you are, Anna,’ Morell says. ‘We were just sharing old memories – nothing about current cases, so you don’t need to worry.’ He smiles, his tone is almost too friendly, which of course is another way of showing his displeasure at the way she treated him last night.

She ignores the challenge, simply stands there in silence, waiting. She notes that he is still in uniform, even though he’s now officially retired. After a few uncomfortable seconds he gives in, picks up his coffee cup and gets to his feet.