A woman who introduces herself as Caia Bianca’s PA shows them into a drawing room with an amazing view over Öresund and Denmark. It is a windy day; the grey waves are tipped with white. A car ferry has just left Denmark, and is halfway across the sound before Caia appears. She is wearing black trousers and a white shirt, and is considerably more subdued than she was at the homecoming event. She sits down on the sofa with her handbag beside her and takes out a rose-gold mobile phone. She glances at the screen, checking for messages before placing it on the glass coffee table.

‘I heard Joe killed himself at Glarea,’ she says before either of them has the chance to explain why they’re here. ‘And yes, I got that email too, but to be honest I didn’t pay it any attention. As a woman in my industry, I’m used to weird messages. I can’t tell you how many dick pics I get in a week. I could hold my own exhibition.’

She gives the phone a gentle push with one finger, then smiles and winks at Jens, who doesn’t appear to know what to say.

‘Did you have any contact with Joe Rylander before that?’ Anna asks in order to help him out.

Caia shakes her head.

‘Not that I’m aware of. We only met for a few hours that evening. I’m usually pretty good with faces, but I doubt I’d recognise him. Do you have a picture?’

Jens places Rylander’s photograph on the table. Caia takes a pair of elegant reading glasses out of a check case, puts them on and studies it closely. ‘No,’ she says after a while. ‘I’m pretty sure we’ve never met before. Well . . . of course we have met before, but not since then, if you know what I mean.’

She fires off another smile in Jens’s direction. Her pink lipstick emphasises the perfection of her sculpted lips.

‘What do you remember about Joe Rylander from the quarry?’ Jens manages to ask.

‘That he was a complete shit.’ Caia reaches into her handbag for an e-cigarette, lights it with a click and releases a puff of vapour. At the same time, she picks up her phone with the other hand, once again checking for messages. The gesture is not meant to be rude; it’s probably unconscious. Her fingers are long, the nails beautifully manicured.