“So you’ve got no problem with Paula’s identity becoming public? His death? His family’s deaths?”

“You know that’s not the case.”

Erik Wilson stood up with his briefcase in his hand and waited for Grens to do the same. In vain. The stubborn detective superintendent remained where he was, might even have sank lower in the visitor’s chair.

“No, I’m not sure I do know that anymore. And that worries me. However, what I do know is that no one besides you has been proven to have opened that safe. What I also know is that so far you haven’t even been able to give me a single explanation about how this alleged theft took place. And, Wilson—it makes me damn suspicious. Makes you damn suspicious.”

Chapter 40

The apartment had six bedrooms, or was it seven. Maybe eight? Ewert Grens didn’t even have a precise answer to Piet Hoffmann’s question, he had barely thought about it. He’d squeezed Anni’s hand and moved into their penthouse on Svea Road—ready to start the family he’d always dreamed of—back when prices in the inner city were cheap. He couldn’t conceive of the millions that apartments like his were worth these days. So yes, technically he was rich despite never having saved more than a few thousand kronor in the bank, all because he chose to live his life without changing, while everything else around him did.

Lots of rooms to choose from—but still they huddled around his kitchen table and the whiteboard. Because it felt right. Because this was where they met in the confusion of two investigations that intersected with each other. Because if you infiltrate for me, I infiltrate for you works better when two people sit side by side drinking coffee out of identical cups.

That’s what they were doing when Grens’s telephone rang at 10:02 PM. Dipping fresh cinnamon buns into warm liquid in a way that reminded Piet Hoffmann of his grandfather. The detective picked up after two ring signals that vibrated between them on the table. The call they were waiting for.

“Yes?”

“It’s done, Ewert. Dusko Zaravic has been arrested.”

“Did he resist?”

“As calm as he could be.”

Grens nodded toward Hoffmann, who nodded back—he’d understood.

“Thank you, Mariana. Good work. Kronoberg jail?”

“He’s on his way to an empty cell. And, Ewert?”

“Yes?”

“I still don’t know what you want them for . . . but your three days start right now.”

PART
6

Chapter 41

10:18 PM

(2 days, 23 hours, and 44 minutes remaining)