She is seated next to Alex at dinner, and Eva-Britt steers them skilfully through the obligatory small talk. They get through both the weather and the seasons before the starter is cleared away. Morell serves fillet of beef with a potato gratin for the main course, with a special vegan dish for Agnes. The atmosphere is warm and friendly, the conversation flows, and Morell is so generous with the wine that Anna has to point out more than once that she’s driving home, which doesn’t stop him from topping up her glass.

Alex is a charming companion. He is amusing and has an infectious laugh; she found him quiet and reserved at the police station the other day, but revises her opinion of him this evening. Maybe it’s the wine, but both she and Agnes are really enjoying themselves.

Morell turns out to be a keen gardener, and towards the end of his third plant-related anecdote, Alex catches Anna’s eye and raises an eyebrow, which makes her like him even more.

‘You look as if you work out, Alex,’ she says.

‘As often as I can – maybe three or four times in the weeks when I don’t have the girls.’ He unconsciously rubs his bare ring finger, and at the same time Anna realises that she is fiddling with her hair. What the hell is wrong with her? Is she seriously sitting here flirting with her predecessor’s recently divorced son, in her first week in her new home town? She lowers her hand, straightens her shoulders, decides not to drink another drop of wine, however insistent Morell might be.

‘Alexander was a very promising wrestler,’ Morell says. ‘He almost made the Olympic team.’

‘Wow,’ she says. ‘Which year?’

‘Barcelona 1992. I injured my knee just before the final selection process, so there were no more chances.’ Alex shrugs. ‘Plus, I’d got into the building trade, found myself a decent job, which was probably just as well. I mean, when did you last hear about a wrestler’s fantastic luxury lifestyle?’

The words sound awkward, as if they’re someone else’s, and his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 1992 – two years after Simon Vidje’s death, Anna thinks to herself.

Just as Eva-Britt had predicted, Morell brings out his camera when coffee has been served. It looks like the same top-of-the-range model as Agnes’s, and Anna tentatively asks who gave him such an expensive birthday present. The answer turns out to be Bengt Andersson. He and Henry seem to be close friends, just as Elisabet Vidje said.

Agnes sits down beside Morell on the sofa, and with practised ease she goes through the different settings and finer points of the camera. Anna takes the opportunity to pop to the bathroom. It’s occupied, but Eva-Britt directs her to the basement.

‘It’s on the left, through the curtain,’ she says.