‘Stand up and wave,’ he said, holding up a hand to quell their protests before anyone could speak. ‘I know, I know, but it’s the only way to get rid of him. Otherwise he’ll just come marching up here.’

Carina, Marie and Simon obediently made their way to the edge of the rock.

‘Hi, Uncle Henry!’ Marie shouted with exaggerated enthusiasm, while the others gave a half-hearted wave.

Henry Morell waved back, then said something to the driver. The police car began to move along the narrow dirt track, flashing its blue lights once before disappearing among the trees.

‘Sorry,’ Alex said. ‘You know what he’s like.’

Simon patted Alex on the back. ‘No problem. It’s part of the tradition, Henry calling by to check on his golden boy. He’ll still be doing it when you’re fifty.’

Alex responded with something inaudible. He grabbed a beer and went back to his towel. Simon changed the tape in the boombox.

‘Not Toto again,’ Marie groaned when the music started. ‘What was wrong with my tape?’

Simon rolled his eyes. ‘Michael Bolton. Need I say more?’

‘What’s wrong with Michael Bolton?’ Marie looked to Carina for support, but her friend was lying down, apparently uninterested in the discussion.

‘Yes, what is wrong with Michael Bolton?’ Simon said with a grin.

‘You know, sometimes you can be a real arsehole, Simon. Just because you’re a musical fucking prodigy, that doesn’t make you the taste police!’ Marie snapped.

Simon sat down beside her and put his arm around her. ‘But you still love me, don’t you, cousin?’

She pushed his arm away, he put it back. This went on until Marie burst out laughing.

‘Arsehole!’ she said again, but in a friendlier tone this time.

Bruno took two beers and a Coke out of the cool bag and went back to the girls. He ventured a little smile when he handed Marie the Coke, but didn’t get the response he’d been hoping for as she was still bantering with Simon. Bruno sat down on the towel and opened his beer, then realised that Simon was once again ogling Carina, not caring whether anyone noticed or not.

Someone ought to teach that fucker a lesson, he thought. He took a couple of swigs of beer and smiled quietly as he toyed with the not unpleasant idea of doing so himself.

Chapter 5

5

Autumn 2017

Anna has been up since five thirty. She spent a long time in the shower in the newly tiled bathroom before putting on her uniform. Trousers, freshly ironed shirt, the dark blue jumper with yellow insignia on the shoulders, usually worn only by office staff. She hasn’t worn a uniform for many years; as a detective in Stockholm, she was always in plain clothes.