Now Weedon was moving his thumb across Mari’s phone. ‘She had quite a few chat groups,’ he began. ‘There was a lot of activity on the day of the school show, but Mari didn’t get involved. At least not in this particular group.’

Yngve looked at his clock. Almost midnight.

‘There are … one, two, four, six, eight … twelve people in the next group,’ Weedon continued. ‘All girls.’

‘We have a fairly good idea of her female friends,’ Yngve said. ‘Concentrate on the boys.’

‘Alright.’

A few seconds passed.

‘I’ll just say them out loud as I go along,’ Weedon said.

Yngve was getting impatient. It didn’t help that Åse was still looking at him. Her eyebrows were raised.

‘Stick to those she was in private chats with,’ he said.

‘OK.’

While he waited, Yngve found a pen and started clicking it on and off, on and off.

Finally Weedon said: ‘On the day she died, she chatted with Johannes Eklund…’

‘About what?’

‘Let me see…’

Another beat. ‘Nothing important, it seems, only some stuff about the show. She wanted to confirm that they were going to do the interview afterwards. Johannes agreed. With a smiley, even.’

‘Alright,’ Yngve said. ‘Who else was she chatting with?’

‘Let me see…’

Yngve drew a big circle on his notepad.

‘Her father tried to reach her,’ Weedon said. ‘Hello. You’re not answering my calls, so I’m trying to reach you in here instead. Can we meet somewhere? Talk about it?’

Talk about what? Yngve wondered. ‘When was that?’ he asked.

‘Sunday. The day before she died,’ Weedon answered, scratching his head.

‘Hm,’ Yngve murmured. Getting hold of Frode Lindgren was becoming more and more imperative. He still hadn’t returned any of Yngve’s calls.

‘She had been chatting to Even Tollefsen a lot,’ Weedon continued. ‘There must be thousands of exchanges between just the two of them. But on those last two days, though, she’s not responding to him. He’s … pretty desperate, it seems, to get answers from her.’

So far Even’s story checks out with the findings on her phone, Yngve thought.

‘Huh…’ Weedon exclaimed.

‘What is it?’ Yngve asked.

‘She did have a private chat with another Tollefsen.’

‘Who?’

‘A Tobias.’

Even’s brother, Yngve said to himself. ‘What the hell were they talking about?’

‘Let me see…’

Again it took Weedon half a minute to comb through the communication.

‘It started a little while ago,’ he said. ‘Five or six weeks or so. She contacted him because she needed some pictures of Even for an article she was going to write.’

The one for the school newspaper, Yngve thought as he waited for Weedon to continue.