When he’s gone, Anna walks over to the window, which overlooks the hospital’s main entrance. A familiar dark blue Volvo is parked in the space designated for ambulances. As Bengt Andersson emerges, the car door opens and Henry Morell gets out. He and Andersson have a brief but animated discussion, then they both turn and look up at her window. In spite of the distance, she’s pretty sure both men are smiling.

*

Agnes is still in a deep sleep. Anna sits with her for a while, holding her hand, stroking her cheek, doing her best not to cry. After half an hour the doctor arrives – the same one Anna spoke to during the night.

‘I’ve consulted with my colleagues and everything’s looking good, so we’re going to take Agnes off the sedative now. That means she should begin to wake up in about half an hour.’

‘That’s great.’ Anna looks at her watch. ‘Could I possibly borrow a phone?’

*

Her mobile is at the bottom of the river along with the car, so she has to call directory enquiries to get her solicitor’s number. He answers almost immediately, even though it’s Sunday. She’s calling because of something that occurred to her after seeing Bengt Andersson and Henry Morell in conversation.

‘Anna, good to hear from you. I tried you a few minutes ago but your phone is switched off.’

She doesn’t have the energy to explain what’s happened, and simply waits for him to get to the point.

‘One of Santesson’s team has just been in touch. Apparently, they’ve found DNA on the buttons of the infusion pump – the smallest of traces, but they think they’ll have a match-ready profile over the next week or so.’

‘Right,’ she says, feeling the tiny amount of energy she’d scraped together simply draining away. No doubt that was why Andersson and Morell were smiling. ‘And why are they telling us this?’

‘Tactics, I imagine. There might not be enough DNA to produce a profile, in which case Santesson wants to have a back-up plan. His offer of a lesser charge in return for a full confession remains on the table until the end of the day. Think it over and call me back by six at the latest if you want me to take it further, OK?’

She ends the call, rests her elbows on her knees and puts her head in her hands. Not this too. Not now.

*

She is sitting with Agnes again. Holding her hand. The oxygen mask has been removed, which makes her look a lot less sick. It’s almost as if she’s sleeping. Exactly thirty minutes have passed since the doctor switched off the infusion pump delivering the sedative and wheeled it out of the room. Ironically, it is identical to the pump Santesson is holding above her head like the sword of Damocles.