But in hindsight, maybe he should have suggested it. Maybe their relationship would have been different. Not to mention their sex life, which had descended into such a deep torpor over the past few years, not even electric shocks could resuscitate it. Or would it have made no difference, since, according to Matilda’s philosophy, everything was preordained anyway?

Once his eyes got used to the gloom, he found he was in a hallway with black walls and that there was a dark red curtain in front of him. Soothing music and sensual moaning could be heard from the other side of it, mixed with the sound of skin slapping against skin at an increasing pace. And if he wasn’t mistaken, at least one woman, possibly more, was close to climaxing.

Against his will, he felt his blood starting to stir. In an attempt to calm himself down, he refocused on why he was there and pulled the curtain aside.

‘Welcome, Fabian Risk,’ said the woman at the till. She looked about his age and was dressed in a tight latex corset, which matched her smiling red lips and elbow-length gloves. ‘First time, I see.’

Fabian nodded on his way up to the till, pondering how she could tell. ‘I’m afraid I’m only here to talk about a certain Molly Wessman. Do you know her?’

‘Maybe,’ replied the woman, whose smile was quickly replaced by a straight line. ‘In this world, we don’t discuss our guests with outsiders. So whatever secrets you might have, they stay between us. Might be good to know in case you ever work up the courage to come here to let your hair down.’

‘Absolutely. But as it happens, Molly Wessman is dead, murdered.’ He showed her his police ID. ‘Priests, doctors and psychologists are some of the people whose right to professional secrecy is sanctioned by law. Swingers, or whatever you call yourselves, have no choice but to talk, unless you want me to press charges, that is.’

The woman briefly glanced down at his ID before looking back up at him. ‘As I said, we don’t talk to outsiders. So either you press your little charges, if that makes you feel good. Or you throw yourself into the unknown and become a member. Become one of us. Who knows where it might lead?’

Her smile was back, a visible confirmation that she could see right through him and his empty threats. As though he were even close to pressing charges.

‘How much is a membership?’

‘4,500 annually and 350 per visit. That includes a towel and bathrobe, oils and condoms. You’ll have to bring your own Viagra.’

That wasn’t only too expensive, the lead was also too flimsy to ask Tuvesson to compensate him. Even so, he found himself pulling out his card from his wallet, inserting it into the reader and punching in his PIN.