She took a few steps towards the man and noted an instant shift in his expression. The smile was still there, but the worry in his eyes was new, as was the nervous twitching below his left nostril. A second later, he had melted into the crowd.

He wasn’t going to get away. Under no circumstances was she going to let him disappear, she repeated to herself as she stepped over the police tape and pushed her way through the gaggle of curious onlookers.

And there he was. Two hundred feet further on, she saw him dash across the car park next to the mall, looking back over his shoulder to check if she was following him. She was. But only to see him run straight out into Norra Storgatan.

The old orange Volvo coming from the left didn’t have a chance to stop in time.

The collision itself was no more than two dull thuds when the man landed on the bonnet and then hit the windscreen before disappearing on the other side of the car, which skidded to an abrupt stop.

Lilja raced across the car park and saw the door on the driver’s side open and an older man climb out, take a few steps and then bend down over the body, which was likely lying right next to the car. She could only hope he had survived. There was almost nothing worse than criminals who chickened out and went off and died before they could be made to explain their motives.

That didn’t seem to be the case here, though, since she could see him getting to his feet on the other side of the car’s grimy windows. She was almost there now and would have no trouble catching him.

But instead of pressing on across the street on foot, the man got in the driver’s seat and started the car, leaving a foiled Lilja and a bleeding car owner in his wake.

6

Twenty-five days, fourteen hours and forty-two minutes.

Astrid Tuvesson, chief of the Helsingborg crime squad, tore her eyes from her wristwatch and left her office. Another eighteen minutes and she was going to break her old record. Granted, she wasn’t actually sure about the exact minutes. But according to the doctor, it was good to fix on a concrete time at this early stage, so you could count the hours. He’d also claimed things would get easier with each passing day, and that eventually it wouldn’t even occur to her to count. But in that, he had been wrong so far.

The truth was, she thought about it all the time. Every day, every hour and every minute was a struggle. The thirst, that damn thirst. How she loathed never being allowed to quench it. And the doubt that had just grown stronger with each passing day. Was it really worth it? But that wasn’t something she told anyone, not even her sponsor.