Ola sat in his room at the police station with his feet up on the desk, eating chips directly out of the bag and bobbing his head in rhythm with the music streaming out of the Bluetooth speaker to which his iPhone was connected.

Under the username Eternal_sunshine, Robin had written a number of comments and articles and had even started a debate on the site Stand Up for Human Rights that highlighted people who protested and “exposed the hidden plans of governments, big business and their bureaucracies.” Eternal_sunshine had commented on a journalist’s article about the Nobel Prize winner Aung San Suu Kyi. He had even expressed his opinions on an article about the struggle for freedom in East Timor, which had been violently occupied by Indonesia.

Ola wiped his greasy hands on his jeans, dropped his feet to the floor and pulled the keyboard closer.

He continued to skim through the cookie files and found a thread started by Eternal_sunshine that was only a few days old. He read quickly through the discussion, which was published in the gossip forum Flashback. It was about an assault.

An assault that had happened in Knäppingsborg.

* * *

They drove in silence most of the way, which didn’t bother Henrik. But it clearly bothered Mia.

“Are you upset or what?” she asked.

“I’m not upset. I just think it was unnecessary for you to answer your phone when we were in the middle of a conversation with Ida Eklund,” Henrik said, gripping the wheel. “Really unprofessional, if you ask me.”

“Maybe it was important.”

“What we were doing was important.”

Mia glared at him.

“But you were still there.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Okay, I’m so fucking sorry then.”

She pursed her lips and turned her face away, looking out the car window. When the Christmas song playing on the radio had ended, she turned toward Henrik again.

“Tell me, then.”

“What should I tell you?”

“What I clearly missed during the questioning that made you so upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

He pulled his hand across his face before he continued, “Ida said that she saw a dark man driving a car...”

“That was probably a Volvo. I heard that. Was there something else that came up, or what?”

Henrik thought about the woman Ida had described and felt the uneasiness come creeping into his chest. It was a strange coincidence that bothered him more than a little bit. Should he tell Mia that Ida had described a woman with a large, shiny BMW, a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to Jana Berzelius?

He hesitated. It would only raise unnecessary suspicions if Jana hadn’t been the woman Ida saw on Spelmansgatan in Navestad.

“No, not really,” he said. “Nothing else came up.”

“Well, then,” she said. “So I didn’t miss anything.”

They drove on in silence, which didn’t seem to bother Mia anymore. But now it bothered Henrik.

* * *