Looking out the large glass windows near an inner courtyard, Per thought about Jana Berzelius. He picked up his phone and called her, but there was no answer. It was the fourth time she hadn’t answered. She hadn’t been in touch with Henrik, either.

Where in the hell was she?

When they called his name, he picked up the white paper bag that contained his lunch. Jana’s apartment wasn’t far away, so he decided to swing by.

A vague anxious feeling grew in his stomach as he locked his bike out front and jogged up the steps. He knocked on her door three times, rang the doorbell three times, too, and even called out her name. But no one opened the door.

He got his bike and walked it over a snowdrift that was growing out of control between the sidewalk and street. He shook off the snow that had gotten stuck in his front wheel and pedaled vigorously. He swerved to avoid two blonde women with strollers, downshifted, increased his speed again and rode diagonally across Drottninggatan toward the Public Prosecution Office.

Outside the entrance, he parked his bicycle and then punched in the door code. He ran up the seven flights of stairs with the paper bag in his hand, hoping she would be in her office.

* * *

Jana Berzelius searched every little nook and cranny in the summerhouse before finally catching a glimpse of a framed nautical chart in one of the guest rooms. She carefully unhooked the frame and took out the yellowing nautical chart, placing it on the floor in the room.

The land map on her phone clearly showed a dense forest and houses all along the coast of Arkösund, which lay farthest out on Vikbolandet in the Norrköping archipelago. The community was on a promontory, surrounded by miles of coastline. The boathouse where Pim had been held had to be around there somewhere.

If she could find it, she would almost certainly also find Danilo.

She felt a shiver run down her spine and examined the map on her phone again.

Pim had mentioned a stream, and Jana began to draw lines on the nautical chart to mark all of the watercourses. But she soon realized that there were far too many lines, and that it was going to be impossible to find the stream that Pim meant.

She began again, making a new marking of all the wider, larger watercourses right near the coast. She counted ten of them.

She zoomed in on the map on her phone and tried to see if there were any visible boathouses along the watercourses, but it was impossible—what she saw could just as well be cottages or storage sheds.

She took a step back and looked at all of her markings. Most of them were on the north side, but the police had already searched there and had come up empty-handed.