Ola went back to his chair, sat down and glanced at the paper on the table in front of him.

“At the first address, there’s an old summer cottage built in 1940. The cottage is still there, right here.”

Everyone leaned in to see better as Ola zoomed in on the picture.

“But the cottage isn’t right on the water,” Henrik observed.

A collective sigh of disappointment seemed to pass through the room.

“So what’s at the other address?” Gunnar asked.

Ola took out the paper even though he already knew what it said.

“I was just getting to that,” he said. “There was a cottage there, also an old summer cottage, that burned down in October of 2005. It was owned privately until 1970 when it was donated to the Ministry of Defense. From 1971, you could rent it if you worked for the Ministry.”

“And now?”

Ola pointed to the enlarged photo. Henrik looked quickly at the digital map. Water, cliffs and forest.

“I don’t see anything,” Henrik said.

“Check again,” Ola said, zooming in on the picture step by step. He pointed to a spot just a half mile from the cottage he had just shown.

Henrik leaned forward even farther.

“A boathouse,” he said.

“Yes,” Ola said.

“Get a helicopter,” Gunnar commanded without taking his eyes from the screen. He stared at the little boathouse sitting directly on the water. Now they really had to go all in on the hope that they were right.

Chapter Thirty-Three

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

KARL BERZELIUS OPENED the outer door and stepped into the hall. His feet had grown cold from the chill outside. He didn’t turn on any lights, instead walking right into the darkness, listening for sounds. But the house was silent.

“Jana?” he said quietly after he had checked the different rooms. “Are you here? I want to talk to you.”

He walked with heavy steps to the armchair, which moved slightly as he sat down. The leather creaked as he crossed one leg over the other.

“You have to come out. Come out so I can talk to you. I know...”

His voice cracked. He took a deep breath and then repeated, “I know you’re sitting behind me. Behind my back. Behind the armchair. Come out now.”

When nothing happened, he slowly stood and looked behind the chair, but it was empty. He stood in the middle of the floor, waiting, but then began walking over the carpet.

“Jana...” he said, his voice soft. “We have a lot to talk about.”

He turned around and looked into the hallway. Farther down, the door to the kitchen was ajar. He turned his gaze toward the stairs again.

But both the stairs and the corridor were empty.