Teresa didn’t let his affable expression fool her. She was sure there was no emergency grave enough that would wipe that impudent smirk off his face. It was his trademark, a permanent fold in the texture of his face. She had to put him in his place, and she had to do it now. She had already waited too long.

“What’s wrong? How about every single thing you’ve done since we got here,” she answered. “Lucas Ebran: does the name ring a bell?”

Knauss lowered his gaze momentarily before replying: he knew he had made a mistake. The only question now was whether he’d intended to actively disrupt the investigation.

“Ebran,” said the policeman with a sigh, turning off the stove. “He’s not our man.”

Teresa could have slapped him. He just didn’t get it.

“The problem isn’t Ebran. Not really. The problem, Chief Knauss, is that I need to know I can trust my colleagues. I need to know I can count on the eyes and ears of those who work with me as if they are my own, and I can’t say I feel that way about you. Can you guess why that might be?”

She cocked her head to one side while she waited for him to respond.

Knauss wet his lips and let his eyes roam over the room, as if he were looking for the right words to say. There weren’t any. Teresa hadn’t come there looking for an explanation or an apology. She had come to restore a hierarchy, a sense of order. It may not have been pleasant, but it was certainly necessary. Sometimes she felt like an ageing stag rutting with the younger bucks in a bid to protect its leadership of the herd. Except that she’d been born a female, and she wasn’t exactly dying to lock horns with the others. It was draining and unnecessarily tiring, but if it was going to help her do her job better, she was ready to hit harder than anybody else.

“So?” she prodded.

Knauss sighed again.

“It won’t happen again,” he said. “I’ll tell you everything.”

Teresa nodded.

“David is in the hospital right now, probably because he came face to face with the killer we’re looking for, and yet you’re still here trying to get the better of me,” she said. “Your son is alive by a stroke of luck. Remember that, next time you feel like you ought to lead the investigation in my stead, Chief.”

She saw him swallow.

“Ebran is a wretch,” said the man, “and his mother is ill.”