Henrik got out of the car first. She dillydallied, looking at herself in the vanity mirror, taking her hair out of her ponytail holder and combing her hands through it. She took a deep breath and prepared herself.

Martin Strömberg opened the door right away.

Mia stood behind Henrik and signaled that Martin shouldn’t let on that he knew her.

That he “knew” her in the most intimate way.

Still, he nodded in recognition.

“We’re here to ask you a few questions,” Henrik said.

“This late? About what?”

“Let us in,” Mia said with a knowing look.

“Sure, sure, come in then. Let’s sit in the kitchen, why don’t we?”

“The living room is better,” she said, stepping past him. She looked around the room quickly to make sure none of her things were lying about the room.

She sat down on the sofa, moving a pillow from behind her back. Martin sat down so close to her that she immediately moved a few inches away.

“We want to talk to you about the narcotics market here,” Henrik said, still standing at the entrance to the living room. “We understand you were arrested for cocaine.”

“I can’t deny that.”

“Do you still do drugs?”

Martin hesitated for a moment. “Sometimes you fall back into it for a moment. But even alcohol is a drug. Coffee was thought to be a drug when it first came to Sweden, you know.”

Henrik sighed and took his notebook out of his jacket pocket.

“Yes, well,” he said. “Yesterday, a girl was found dead on board a train. In her stomach were a whole lot of capsules containing heroin and cocaine.”

“Oh, Christ,” Martin said, drawing his hand through his greasy hair. “But what does that have to do with me?”

“We are hoping to reap the benefit of your impressive knowledge of the drug market here in town,” Henrik said. “What channels are most active and all of that.”

“But it changes constantly.”

“Exactly, and we’ve just heard that a rumor is circulating about a new man who is controlling the drug trade here,” Henrik said.

“What’s his name?” Martin asked, looking up at Henrik.

“We were hoping you could tell us that.”

“I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“We’re talking about The Old Man.”

“The Old Man? That’s his name?”

“Seems so.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell. Sorry.”

“Are you sure?” Mia said, looking at Martin with a tired expression.

“Yes...”

“Completely certain?”

“Okay, okay. Maybe I’ve heard of him.”

Mia perked up, locking her gaze on him.

“In what context?” she asked.

“I don’t remember.”

“You have to tell us if you know something,” Henrik said.

He looked at Martin, saw that his eyes were searching for hers, saw his grin and her flushed neck. He sighed again.

“From what I understand, you haven’t always been very reliable,” he said instead.