Alex shrugged. Disregarding work calls, how much did he use his phone? He spoke to the kids maybe once a week, Diana rang him now and again, but only when he was at the station or out on a job. If he was a pensioner and at home all day, there would be very few calls. The thought made him go cold. As far as he was concerned, retiring was something in the distant future. So distant it didn’t seem real, even though in fact it wasn’t that many years away.

Fredrika interrupted his train of thought. ‘Okay, so who’s Benke been in touch with?’

‘Mainly business acquaintances. He was an active member of his company’s board, and he spoke to his son in Vienna. He also contacted Sten Aber occasionally.’

‘Isn’t that a bit odd?’ Ivan said eagerly. As always he was keen to find some interesting diversion. ‘I’d have expected him to talk to his best friend more often.’

Alex couldn’t suppress a smile. He had two best friends, and they rarely spoke. The idea of chatting on the phone to maintain relationships made his flesh crawl.

‘No,’ he said. He could see that most of his colleagues agreed with him. ‘It’s not at all odd.’

‘Who was the last person he spoke to?’ Fredrika wanted to know.

The investigator consulted her notes. ‘His son in Vienna – at eight o’clock on the evening Benke died.’

Alex’s phone rang again. Diana. He felt a stab of unease. Had something happened? He rejected the call and switched his phone to silent. He would ring her after the meeting.

‘Sorry,’ he said to the others.

‘We need to interview the son,’ Fredrika said. ‘For several reasons.’

‘Do we know where he is right now?’ Alex asked.

‘He’s still in Vienna,’ Ivan informed him. ‘I talked to him earlier today – he contacted us. His mother told him what had happened, and he’s flying to Stockholm tonight.’

‘Good – we can question him tomorrow.’ Fredrika made a note in her diary.

Under different circumstances her pallor would have worried Alex, but right now there wasn’t time for concerns of that kind. For the same reason he had pushed aside the thought of her red-rimmed eyes when she turned up late for the interview with Sten Aber.

He straightened his back. The chairs were uncomfortable, and the air con now seemed to have achieved some sort of turbo-charged level and was dispensing ice-cold air.

‘What else have we got? Anyone checked Benke’s emails?’

They hadn’t. The technicians had discovered two accounts, both password protected. Alex sighed. If people only knew how much time it took to gain permission to access their email, even when they’d been murdered.

‘There might be a short cut,’ Ivan said.

‘Not one I want to hear about,’ Alex said firmly, before adding: ‘Although of course I’d be interested in anything you find out.’