He trudged back to the house. The last few years had taken their toll on Torbjörn Ross; he’d even considered leaving the job. However, that would please far too many of his colleagues, those who couldn’t wait to get rid of him, who regarded him as unreliable. Ross shook his head. There were always people who confused a normal sense of orderliness and perseverance with mental illness.

‘Torbjörn!’

The voice reached him on the threshold of Benke’s home. He didn’t need to turn around to see who it was. Margareta Berlin.

‘What are you doing here?’ she snapped.

‘I could ask you the same question,’ he said.

Berlin sighed.

‘This is Alex Recht’s case.’

‘I’m not sure that explains why you’re here,’ Ross countered calmly.

‘I like to get out into the field.’

It was Ross’s turn to sigh. Why did Berlin have to be the kind of boss who wanted to show the foot soldiers that she was one of the gang, that she didn’t mind getting her hands dirty? Determined to ingratiate herself. Ross preferred a genuine approach, which he had learned to suss out.

‘I thought Recht’s team had been disbanded,’ he said. ‘Surely there’s no room for special units in our new organisation?’

The last three words were dripping with contempt. Our new organisation. Everyone hated it. The biggest ever restructuring of the Swedish police service. Executed so badly, built on shifting sands. At least according to Ross.

‘Alex’s team has proved to be a successful concept over a long period,’ said Berlin, who had obviously decided she wanted to call him Alex rather than Recht. ‘So it stays.’

Ross shook his head. He didn’t have much time for Recht’s so-called successful concept. For example, Recht had led the investigation into the murder of a young girl who was found dead after having been missing for several years. He would never have solved the case without Ross. If there was anyone who deserved to move up through the organisation it was Ross. Not Recht.

‘Seriously,’ Berlin said, taking him by the arm. ‘Go back to HQ. I have no idea how this situation arose, but of course I’m sorry you’ve come out here for nothing.’

He looked her straight in the eye; it was hard to suppress a smile when he realised she was afraid of him. If he refused to leave, she wouldn’t have a clue what to do.

He fixed his gaze on a point somewhere behind her as he considered his next move. She had no idea why he’d turned up in Nacka. She had no idea about a lot of things. Long may it continue.

‘Torbjörn?’

‘I’m going.’