In the end, Sonja had told him to pick up and, as he’d suspected, there had been another murder, which meant his colleagues now had not one but three complex murder investigations on their hands.

‘Dunk it,’ Klippan suggested. ‘That’s what I do.’

But even knowing that, and despite Tuvesson’s assurances that she would never have called unless it was absolutely necessary, he’d declined to end his leave early.

‘Or you could throw it away and save the calories until there are fresh ones,’ Molander countered as he entered the room.

Too many times, he’d put his job before his family. Too many times, the perpetrator had come first, and every time he’d failed to realize the price he and his family paid.

‘Waste of food, I say.’ Klippan dunked his croissant in his coffee, making the cup overflow.

There was always going to be another case. They would never stop coming. The same was true of perpetrators and victims. But he only had one family, and he’d struggled through the past few weeks sleepless, worrying that soon it would only exist in the pictures in their photo albums, as a reminder of his failures.

Tuvesson had respected his position and not let even a hint of disappointment shine through when she’d wished him a lovely rest of the summer and asked him to send the family her love.

Instead, Sonja was the one who had reacted. Not with a happily surprised smile and maybe even a hug. No, she’d just shaken her head and asked him what he was doing. Why he didn’t do the obvious thing and help his colleagues.

Matilda was home and in one piece, and she, Sonja, was more than able to run the house. Who do you think you’re fooling? This is what you want, she’d said, and he’d replied that the only thing he wanted was not to lose his family.

She’d taken the phone from him without a word and dialled Tuvesson’s number, and while it rang, he’d wondered to himself if this meant his family was already lost. That it didn’t matter how much he tried. That the split was inevitable no matter which path he chose.

At the same time, he couldn’t deny that Sonja was right. This was what he wanted. Molly Wessman’s strange death had all the ingredients required to trigger his curiosity. And he’d only just scratched the surface.

Then there was Molander. It remained to be seen whether he’d be able to work side by side with him while simultaneously conducting his basement investigation.

‘All right, if everyone’s done making a mess, we should get started.’ Klippan got to his feet.

‘Not a lot of mess to be made when everything’s rock hard,’ Lilja commented.