“What do the police have to say about Ulrich Andersson’s story?”

“He hasn’t told them about it.”

“Why not?” Gerda looked surprised.

“Because he’s scared. But I’m going to talk to him again tomorrow and try to talk some sense into him.”

“But if he’s so scared, then why did he call you? Why get involved at all?”

“He didn’t. I was the one who called him, and I think …” Heloise contemplated which words to use. “I think he just wanted to warn me.”

“Huh.” Gerda gathered her dark hair into a ponytail as she watched Heloise probingly. “But you’re not scared, are you?”

“Me?” Heloise shrugged. “Do you think I should be?”

“I don’t know. But maybe we should find you a man just to be on the safe side—a big, strong one. Big!” she repeated, holding out her hands in front of her with a considerable amount of space between them.

Heloise coughed into her fist and shifted in her chair.

“What?” Gerda raised her eyebrows.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. What?”

“Martin spent the night here last night.” Heloise bit her cheek a little.

Gerda smiled in a way that left her looking like a cat that had just swallowed a canary.

“He quit his job,” Heloise continued. “He says he didn’t know anything about the documents being forged and that it was probably the secretary of commerce or one of his top guys who was behind it.” Heloise took a large drink of her wine and cleared her throat. “He says that he’s, um, crazy about me.” She made air quotes with her fingers. “But I don’t know … I don’t think I’m up for it, you know what I mean?”

“Can I be blunt?” Gerda asked.

“Aren’t you always?”

“Maybe you should start letting someone in.”

“What are you talking about?” Heloise tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a grunt. “I let you in, don’t I?”

“I mean someone besides me. You need to start believing that life can be good again, and maybe Martin’s just the ticket. ’Cause, honestly, you’re becoming a little too cynical, hon. Let this guy in a little.”

Heloise turned her face away from Gerda and looked out at the Marble Church. She took a deep breath and exhaled heavily.

“I miss the old days,” she said.

“I know.”

“I miss the life I once had, where everything just … made sense.”

“I know.” Gerda put her hand on Heloise’s.

When Heloise’s mother had died five years ago, it had been hard on her, sure. But truth be told, they hadn’t really been all that close, and her mom had been sick for so long that it had almost been a relief that she was finally at peace.

But when she lost her father the following year, her world had stopped turning altogether.