‘You have your father’s eyes. I noticed that the first time we met,’ Elisabet says to Lisa, who is sitting on the edge of the bed. She strokes the young woman’s cheek. ‘Your grandfather’s too, actually.’

Anna can’t quite hold back the tears. She looks over at the window, meets Bror Klein’s gaze for a second. His eyes are suspiciously shiny, and his mouth is turned up in something resembling a smile. They both look away in embarrassment, as if neither wants to show their emotions to the other. She feels her phone buzz in her pocket and goes out into the corridor to answer.

It’s Jens Friberg.

‘I just wanted you to know that we’ve got most things sorted. Bruno has confessed to everything, and there are no more question marks. Bengt Andersson has organised some flashy lawyer for him, but that’s not going to bring Marie back.’

‘What about Tabor?’

‘The fire service managed to save the ground floor and the external walls. The rain obviously caused some damage, but it won’t be too long before it’s habitable again.’

‘OK.’

She pictures the shabby dressing gown, the photo albums, the box containing Agnes’s baby things. The only physical remnants of the life she, Håkan and Agnes shared together.

‘Are you all right?’ He sounds genuinely worried.

Anna thinks about Agnes. About Lisa Savic and Elisabet Vidje. A few days ago, the loss of their home and possessions would have floored her. It would have been a blow from which she might never have recovered. But now . . .

‘It’s only stuff,’ she says, and means it.

‘So, what happens now?’ Jens wonders.

‘I don’t actually know. Agnes is being discharged tomorrow. We’re staying in a hotel for a few days, then we’ll see. What about you?’

‘I don’t actually know either. There are a few loose ends to tie up here, so I’ll hang on for a while. Fortunately, I’ve had a crash course in detective work over the past week or so, with an excellent teacher.’

Anna thinks he might be smiling. ‘Keep in touch – let me know how it goes.’

‘Will do.’

‘Take care of yourself, Jens.’

‘You too, Anna.’

*

She leaves the Vidje family in peace for a while and goes downstairs to buy a drink. The stitches in her thigh are pulling, forcing her to move slowly. The newspaper placards are screaming out the details surrounding what they are calling the Nedanås murder. No doubt the headlines are upsetting Bengt Andersson almost as much as the loss of his daughter, she thinks acidly. She buys a Coca-Cola and drinks it in the twilight outside the main entrance. It has stopped raining, but the wind has turned colder. After a little while she shivers, and goes back in.

*