She pulled open the door to the stairwell and ran down the stairs, slipping along the way but recovering quickly. She leaped down the last few steps before emerging in the parking garage and heading diagonally over the hard, cold cement. She saw a group of three patrol officers and went past them toward her car.

There was a loud bang as she stepped on a sewer grate, and the sound made her speed up. She walked as quickly as she could, then ran the last few yards to her car.

She started her BMW X6 and stepped on the gas.

* * *

The hunger and tiredness gnawed at him.

Henrik Levin sat in his car on Garvaregatan and waited for Mia Bolander to appear. With one hand on the steering wheel, he intently gazed at the building. He saw a movement out of the corner of his eye and watched a magpie take flight. Following the bird’s fluttering, he leaned forward and saw it disappear behind the roofline.

His stomach growled and he began feeling around in the compartment on the bottom of the driver’s-side door. He found only a napkin. Then he looked in the glove compartment, but only the owner’s manual was there. He felt around in the pockets of his coat and jeans—not so much as a piece of gum. Finally, he lifted the hinged lid between the seats and rustled around in the pens and receipts, looking for anything edible. He was completely unaware that a woman was quickly nearing the area at that very moment.

And that woman was not Mia Bolander.

* * *

Jana Berzelius had parked a couple blocks from Garvaregatan and was now running over the Järnvägsbron bridge, keeping her eyes on the ground. She stayed in the shadows as much as she could.

She knew she should turn around, but instead she yanked open the door at number 6. Ignoring, the elevator, she pumped her legs up the stairs toward the attic. Dust whirled with every step she took. She realized she was acting out of panic. What was she going to do here?

To move the boxes was impossible without someone seeing her. Throwing them away was out, too. She felt cornered.

What if they searched the whole building?

Three stories up, she heard voices. She stopped, listening. Two men talking, their speech slurred.

At least they weren’t police.

The men fell silent and raised their eyes as she approached up the steps. They stood close to each other, leaning against a wall that had been carved with names and slang for genitalia, sharing what seemed to be a beer can. One had light blond hair and blue eyes; the other was dark with a scar across his cheek.

Jana looked at the ground, hoping that they wouldn’t pay her any attention. But it was pointless to think that was possible.