‘Do you have any footage of him entering the shop?’ he said, while furtively studying Molander, who seemed completely absorbed by the clip, even though it was the third viewing.

‘Absolutely. But just so you know, it’s over five minutes long, and not particularly eventful. But let’s have a look at that, too.’

The way the perpetrator passed through the entrance, grabbed a basket and continued into the shop in his baggy hip-hop clothes, black gloves and hoodie with its hood pulled up over his head was confident and bold. As though he had a concrete goal in mind.

At the same time, there was nothing about his movements among the shelves that suggested he was there for anything other than food shopping. First a litre of Oatly oat milk and freshly squeezed juice from Brämhult in the dairy section. Then he walked over to the bread aisle and grabbed a bag of Fazer rye rolls before continuing towards the meat counter.

But instead of taking a number, he just glanced at the meat counter on his way to the vegetable section, where he put his basket down and squeezed some avocados before walking over to the mountain of vine tomatoes and selecting some with great care.

After tying his bag of tomatoes closed, he walked towards the potatoes. But halfway there, he changed his mind mid-step and turned back towards the meat counter, where he pushed the button for a ticket and waited his turn.

It was virtually impossible to get a good look at his face at any point during the clip. Whether that was because he knew where the cameras were and made sure to keep his back to them or through sheer happenstance was impossible to say.

Forty-three seconds later, he pushed through the crowd without warning, jumped over the counter and stabbed Lennart Andersson.

The blood fountained out of Andersson’s throat for several seconds before he managed to pull the knife out himself, throw it away and clap one hand to the wound, his eyes baffled and terrified in equal measure. There was nothing to suggest they’d met before. Then the perpetrator picked up another knife from the cutting board and struck again and again while the victim, despite grievous injuries, managed to stay upright and fight back.

But when the perpetrator managed to get the knife in between his ribs on his fifth try, he collapsed out of shot. After that, the only thing they could see was the perpetrator snatching up a cleaver and raising it above his head.

‘Maybe that’s enough.’ Klippan paused the video and turned to the rest of the team. ‘I don’t know about you, but I have two things I think merit discussion.’

‘Good. Let’s start with them,’ Tuvesson said.