‘Her husband. He called the emergency services in total panic mode.’

Alex suppressed a sigh.

‘What made it so difficult to convict him?’

‘He had an alibi. We worked like dogs to crack it, but we got nowhere. We couldn’t prove he’d been at home when Beata was thought to have died, and that was the crucial point. Plus the murder weapon was never found.’

‘Did you follow up on any other suspects?’ Fredrika asked.

‘No. I don’t mean we didn’t bother – we were open to the possibility that it could be someone other than Richard. Aggravated burglary, for example, but when there isn’t a single piece of evidence, you can’t really go in that direction.’

Another detail that stuck in Alex’s mind. Not a single piece of evidence to suggest that Beata had been killed in connection with an aggravated burglary. Not a single piece.

‘Can you elaborate on that?’ Alex could hear the thickness in his voice; it always happened when he was tense. ‘What do you mean when you say there was no evidence to link Beata’s death to a burglary?’

‘There was absolutely no indication of forced entry into the apartment,’ Linda explained. ‘Which could mean that she’d forgotten to lock the door, of course, but all of her friends insisted that the front door was always locked. That left two alternatives: either she let the murderer in, or the person in question had a key.’

‘And you concluded that the second option was the most likely?’ Fredrika said.

‘Yes. Because of the way she died, it seemed that she’d been surprised by the perpetrator and hadn’t heard him coming.’

Alex frowned. ‘Because of the way she died?’

‘She was shot at close range. The bullet hit her in the chest; she would have died instantly.’

Alex and Fredrika looked at each other, both equally surprised. Alex could feel the unease clawing at his body. Beata had been killed in exactly the same way as her father. With a bullet to the chest. This was what he’d known all along, deep down: the murder of Malcolm Benke was hiding a bigger story. Maybe even big enough to encompass the letter writer who had sent Alex a cryptic message.

I am doing what you cannot do.

Fredrika crossed her legs. ‘Do you happen to know whether Beata was wearing her wedding ring when she was found?’

Linda slowly shook her head.

‘I can’t remember, to be honest – but I can certainly check.’

There was a brief silence. Alex thought they were unlikely to get any further, and might as well bring the meeting to a close. Then Fredrika spoke:

‘Where exactly was she when she died?’

‘In the living room. She was sitting in an armchair in front of the open fire.’

Chapter 11