‘Do you understand what you’ve done? Do you understand what you’ve put that family through?’

‘Nothing they didn’t deserve.’

Berlin had no intention of listening to that kind of nonsense.

‘Noah Johansson,’ she said. ‘Did he also deserve to die?’

‘No.’

‘So why did you kill him?’

‘I told you, I didn’t!’

They were getting nowhere.

‘What was your plan?’ Fredrika asked. ‘It still doesn’t make any sense to me.’

Ross lowered his gaze.

‘It worked out more or less the way I wanted – although I was hoping for more.’

More?

‘You wanted them to start killing one another?’ Berlin said.

‘I wanted Dan to take his own life, but not until he’d killed his family. I wanted him to realise that was the only way he could be free.’

Fredrika’s brain was threatening to overheat.

‘Was this really the first thing you came up with when you started planning your revenge? Find a bunker and lock them up?’

Ross shook his head, tears glinting in his eyes.

‘My first idea was to shoot the bastard, but then I thought about the house. I knew it existed, how it could be used. I wasn’t sure I’d be allowed to rent it, but then it all worked out and . . .’

Fredrika leaned back. They were looking for a man who claimed he was putting everything right. Ross insisted he wasn’t that man. He was admitting to only one crime: kidnapping the Johansson family. The crime that was different from all the others. A crime scene with no message to Alex, no copy of Sander’s book.

Surely there couldn’t be another perpetrator?

Doubt was lurking in the shadows of everything they didn’t know, everything they couldn’t prove.

There was a knock on the door and a younger colleague came in.

‘Can I have a quick word with the two of you?’

He nodded to Fredrika and Berlin; Ross was no longer a part of the team.

They went out into the corridor. Berlin slammed the door behind her, leaving Ross alone.

‘We’re carrying out a search of Ross’s house at the moment.’

‘I know,’ Berlin said. ‘I was the one who asked the prosecutor for a warrant.’

The young man ignored her.

‘I’ve just had an initial report from the scene. They’ve made a number of discoveries, including two copies of Morgan Sander’s book hidden at the back of a wardrobe.’

Fredrika let out a long breath. At last, solid ground beneath her feet.

At last.

She could see there was more to come; the corner of their colleague’s mouth was twitching with eagerness.

‘And they found a revolver.’

‘A Colt 45,’ Berlin said quietly.

‘Exactly.’ He was beyond excited. ‘It’s being fast-tracked to the National Forensics Centre, of course, but I think we can be pretty sure it’s our murder weapon.’