The snow on the sidewalk was so trampled that no one would be able to follow her footprints. No one would know she’d been here.

She remained standing for fifteen seconds and listened to the stillness of the cold winter evening. Then she continued back to her car, under the cover of shadows and darkness, keeping a watchful, sweeping eye over her surroundings.

She saw that it was getting close to eight thirty and hastened her steps.

* * *

Per Åström looked at the clock for the second time. Three minutes left before they were supposed to meet.

He nodded a greeting to an acquaintance who came through the entrance to The Lamp Hotel and its restaurant, Ardor. He shivered and stamped his feet. Under his green jacket, he wore a shirt and loosely tied tie, black dress pants and polished shoes. The red rug he was standing on was wet with melted snow. The flames from the outdoor candles danced in the wind.

He looked at the clock again and saw that it said eight thirty. Just then, he heard the sound of high heels. Jana Berzelius came toward him, her back straight and head held high.

“I didn’t think you were going to come,” he said.

“You thought wrong,” she said.

Per smiled and bowed deeply. “After you.”

They went into the packed restaurant. The reserved table stood under the large silver lamp. Jana immediately sat down, laid the cloth napkin on her lap, took the menu from the server and glanced at the select few entrées listed there.

Per ordered a bottle of red wine.

“I prefer white,” Jana said.

“But I was thinking of having meat.”

“Me, too.”

“Okay, then we’ll have white instead,” Per said to the server, laying his menu to the side and looking at Jana.

“What is it?” she asked without looking up from the menu.

“It just feels good to see you again.”

“Don’t get sentimental now.”

“I can’t promise anything. Maybe I’ll make a scene, here and now.”

Jana raised one eyebrow, still not looking at him.

He smiled teasingly and glanced quickly at the menu, deciding quickly.

The server returned with the wine, poured two glasses and stood with her hands behind her back.

“I’ll take the entrecôte,” Per said.

“The same for me,” Jana said.

“Good choice,” said the server, taking the menus. “How would you like it done?”

“Medium rare,” Per said. “And you?”

He nodded toward Jana. She met his gaze.

“Same here,” she said.

“I thought you preferred yours rare.”

“Not today.”

Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

OFFICER GABRIEL MELLQVIST set the emergency brake, opened his car door and got out.