‘Sorry, sorry,’ she said. ‘But I’ve been so frightened.’

‘Frightened?’

Alex knew that simply repeating the word was stupid, but it just slipped out.

‘I think I’m safe. I don’t want to say where I am. Not yet. Noah said I could trust you, but I . . . I don’t know what to do.’

Alex summoned up his most reassuring voice.

‘Let’s start at the beginning. You’re hiding somewhere?’

There was a long silence, then: ‘Yes.’

‘I apologise if this seems insensitive, but why?’

Silence.

‘I realise you must have been scared when you heard that Noah had been murdered,’ Alex said gently. ‘He told me you were worried about Dan and his family too, that you think something’s happened to them.’

‘I know something’s happened to them. So don’t tell me I’m imagining things and need to stop worrying.’

‘Absolutely not. I’m far from convinced that Noah’s brother is in Australia.’

There was a scraping sound on the other end of the line.

‘Let’s try again. You know more than I do. So tell me – why are you hiding?’

‘Can anyone else hear us?’ Tina asked.

What kind of a question is that?

‘No. This phone isn’t monitored.’

‘I don’t mean that. I mean are you alone, or can anyone else hear what you’re saying?’

‘I’m alone in my office with the door closed.’

Alex was running out of patience; he was beginning to regret contacting Tina Antonsson. What possible reason could she have for being so scared?

‘Can we meet? So I can see your ID?’

Alex closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.

What the fuck is going on here?

I don’t have time. I really don’t.

‘I’m a bit pressed for time. Tell me where you want to meet, but it has to be within half an hour’s drive of police HQ.’

Tina thought for a moment.

‘I’ll see you at the OKQ8 petrol station in Johanneshov in thirty minutes.’

‘Fine. Is that where you are now? By the Globe?’

‘I don’t want to say where I am.’

Then she hung up.

Chapter 12

‘I’m not sure I ought to be calling you, but I’m doing it anyway,’ Mikael Lundell said.

Fredrika mumbled about how it wasn’t always easy to know what was right or wrong.

‘I’ve been mulling something over since we last spoke,’ Mikael went on.

Fredrika was as taut as a violin string; she couldn’t handle anyone else’s uncertainty on top of her own.

‘Go on.’

Mikael didn’t answer immediately; her lack of patience had clearly had an effect.

‘It’s not so much about events in London,’ he said slowly. ‘It’s more about the police, how you work, the organisation.’

Fredrika could have burst out laughing, but she didn’t. The organisation? Was he serious?

‘I realise this sounds stupid.’