‘That’s where my memory fails me again. I don’t recall who he is.’

Alex and Fredrika couldn’t believe their ears. It took a few seconds for the significance of what Sten Aber had just said to sink in.

Fredrika shook her head.

‘Enough. You claim you can’t remember when or where this photograph was taken. You can’t even name everyone in it. Your friend Malcolm lived in a great big house; there were only three photographs on display in the whole place. Three. And then we found this one, on the drinks trolley. At the moment we don’t know what it was doing there, but the very fact that it was in Malcolm’s living room tells us that it must have meant something to him. Or possibly his killer – he or she might have brought it along and left it there.’

She broke off. It wasn’t like her to experience such a surge of adrenaline during an interview.

It’s because life has changed beyond recognition. And I hate it.

Sten didn’t speak. It wasn’t a cheap silence; trying to appear unconcerned was obviously costing him a great deal. Fredrika wanted to beg and plead, shout and scream. Help us to help you! But if there was one thing she’d learned during her time with the police, it was that the help she and her colleagues were prepared to offer wasn’t always sufficient. People got themselves into the most peculiar – and sometimes dangerous – situations. Under those circumstances they often weren’t prepared to confide in the police, either because they thought involving the cops would just make things worse, or because they had something to hide. She didn’t know whether either of these applied to Sten Aber, but it infuriated her that he was preventing them from moving forward with the investigation.

Faced with Sten’s continuing silence, Alex too was unable to hide his frustration.

‘Let me give you a clue. This wallpaper is in Beata Benke’s hallway in her apartment in London. And the man you claim not to recognise is Mikael Lundell. He’s a priest, and he spent a number of years with the Swedish church in London.’

Sten opened his mouth then closed it again.

‘So we already know where the photograph was taken and who’s in it,’ Alex went on. ‘But we’d like to find out why it was taken, and why it was so important to Malcolm.’

Sten sighed.

‘We went on so many trips together, Malcolm and Eskil and I. It’s very difficult for me to remember the kind of detail you’re asking for.’

‘How many times were you in Beata’s apartment in London?’ Fredrika asked.

Sten thought for a moment. ‘Ten, maybe?’

‘Maybe,’ Alex said.

And with that the interview was over.

*

They went back to Alex’s office.

‘Stubborn fucker,’ Fredrika said.

Alex raised his eyebrows.