‘I’m not sure what the rules and regulations are. I don’t know if I’m allowed to take anything, or even if I’m allowed in. We’re not married any more; on paper I’m only a friend.’

Vendela thought for a moment. Would there be a problem if they went into the apartment without permission? Then again, who was there to ask? Surely you weren’t meant to bother the police with that kind of thing?

‘Okay, let’s go,’ she said decisively. ‘Of course the plants need watering.’

They walked up the stairs in silence, forever united by having found a man dead in his own home.

‘I told him to go to the doctor,’ Vera said as she unlocked the door. ‘Over and over again I told him, but he wouldn’t listen.’

Her hands were shaking, her voice on the point of breaking. Vendela placed a hand on her arm but said nothing.

The door swung open. ‘So here we are again,’ Vera said.

Even though they’d left the windows open overnight, the smell was appalling.

‘Jesus,’ Vendela whispered.

‘It’s horrible,’ Vera agreed. ‘I’ll just nip into the kitchen and grab the watering can.’

And that was exactly what she did. She filled the can and turned to water the plants on the windowsill, but then she froze in mid movement.

‘What’s wrong?’ Vendela said, worried that it had all been too much for Henry’s ex-wife. Vera was staring at a note on the fridge.

‘Look,’ she said, pointing. ‘Where’s that come from?’

Vendela hadn’t been in Henry’s kitchen before, so she had no idea what belonged there and what didn’t. What was so strange about a note stuck on the fridge door?

Vera’s eyes narrowed. ‘I was here a week ago. Henry and I had coffee on the balcony. And this note wasn’t there.’

Vendela shrugged. ‘I guess it was something he thought about later.’

‘For heaven’s sake, can’t you read?’ Vera sounded unexpectedly cross. ‘Something he thought about later? He didn’t even know anyone called Alex.’

Vendela gave up and read the note. ‘So what do you want to do?’

‘I’m going to call the police, tell them what I’ve found.’

Vendela thought that was probably a mistake, but then the police had more experience than she did when it came to brushing off old ladies with a bee in their bonnet.

‘I’ll call them as soon as I get home,’ Vera said firmly, turning her attention to the plants.

Vendela read the message again; she couldn’t imagine why the police would be interested.

Vera, however, was convinced.

‘There’s something about that Alex. I want to know who he is.’

Vendela wasn’t sure what to say.

‘I suppose it can’t do any harm,’ she said eventually.

‘No indeed! Let’s see if they’ll listen to me.’

Chapter 5