She carried Max into the living room and put him down on the sofa next to Hedvig. She had to go on searching, because this was ridiculous. Dan couldn’t leave the house, so where the hell had he hidden the knives?

Hedvig made a move to get to her feet, but Malin stopped her.

‘No, you stay here and keep Max company.’

Max curled up beside his sister and they both sat there, equally afraid.

Tears sprang to Malin’s eyes and she turned away.

The knives.

She had to find the knives.

Chapter 12

Many people thought of death as a state, as the polar opposite of everything they regarded as living. Noah didn’t think that way. For him death was a function, a mechanism. Death was what made life finite, which was a very good thing. No sane person would want to live forever. The only problem was when death came calling too early, too early in relation to what people had come to expect, too early in relation to what they had managed to experience so far.

Noah had imagined that he, like his paternal grandfather, would one day be a very old man. Old but as bright as a button. There was nothing he could do about the physical ageing process, but it was definitely possible to control one’s mental faculties, if one had the strength and determination.

Dan and his children were an important part of Noah’s vision of the future. He had nothing against Malin, but he didn’t miss her when she wasn’t around. They hadn’t really managed to form a relationship; they had settled for mutual respect. That was often enough; it wasn’t necessary to love and be loved by everyone.

Time was hanging heavy on his hands. He hadn’t had an answer to his email, and he hadn’t heard anything from Alex Recht, which was bitterly disappointing.

What would become of Noah if Dan was dead?

It was such a painful thought that his eyes filled with tears. He couldn’t bear it if Dan had been dead all these weeks, and Noah hadn’t known. Anxiety drove him back to the computer to check his email yet again. No new messages. He checked his phone; nothing from Alex either.

I’m going crazy. I have to get out of here.

He had no appointments booked, and the chances of a new client simply turning up were very limited. He shut down the computer and slipped his phone into his pocket. His shirt was sticking to his back; stress made him sweat.

The bell pinged as the door opened then closed.

Noah hurried out of the office, keys in his hand. His brain was working overtime; whoever this was would just have to go away and come back later.

‘Unfortunately we’re closed,’ he said. ‘But if you’d like to make an appointment and—’