‘Probably as well as you or I would be if our children had just been centrifuged to death in a washing machine.’ He shook his head. ‘I spoke to the hospital. They’ve given her a tranquillizer, and if you ask me, we’re not going to be able to interview her any time soon.’ He fell silent and sipped his coffee. ‘I don’t usually have any trouble understanding why some people act the way they do. I find it’s usually possible to understand even the most heinous crimes if you really put your mind to it. But this. This is not just sick. It’s fucking incomprehensible.’

‘That attitude is hardly helpful. You know that as well as I do,’ Tuvesson replied just as Lilja entered, carrying a folder.

‘Sorry I’m late. What did I miss?’

‘Nothing. We’ve only just started, but I think we’re trying to understand the motive.’

Klippan nodded mutely.

‘What do you mean, trying? If this is not an open and shut case of racism and xenophobia, then what?’ Lilja poured herself a cup of coffee.

‘And what are you basing that on, other than that the victim was from Syria?’

‘We’re talking about Bjuv. Isn’t that enough said?’

‘It really isn’t.’ Klippan turned to Lilja. ‘Bjuv is not particularly racist compared to some other municipalities.’

‘Klippan, I didn’t mean to offend you. I know you grew up there and I’m sure things were different back then. People watched Roots and The Onedin Line, and an ice cream cost no more than two kronor. Today, they’re carving swastikas into the walls and spit on other people on the bus if they are of a different skin colour.’

‘That was actually in Staffanstorp, not Bjuv.’

‘Fine, but I’ll give you one guess where that old git was from.’

‘Listen, I don’t think we’re going to get much further on this right now.’ Tuvesson walked over to the whiteboard wall. ‘Let’s instead agree that xenophobia and right-wing extremism is one of several possible motives.’ She wrote it on the whiteboard wall. ‘What others could there be?’

‘Irene, didn’t you say something about him dating someone called Samira, or whatever?’ Klippan said.

‘No, I said he had a bit of a crush.’

‘What are you getting at?’ Tuvesson said.

‘I was just wondering if it could be honour-related.’

Lilja was about to sip her coffee but instead she put her cup back down and turned to Klippan. ‘Are you saying Samira’s family forced an eleven-year-old boy with a pre-adolescent crush down to the laundry room and shoved him into a washing machine?’

‘Irene, I find this every bit as horrible as you do. But why not?’ Klippan shrugged. ‘I’m no expert when it comes to honour-related violence.’

‘No, but you’re walking on very thin ice, just so you know.’ Lilja shook her head and drank her coffee.