‘I thought he’d been deemed unsuitable for this kind of task,’ Fredrika said.

Berlin folded her arms over her bosom. This wasn’t entirely successful; her arms were too short and her breasts were too big.

‘Because?’

‘Because he behaved inappropriately towards Thea Aldrin.’

Both Alex and Fredrika preferred to avoid mentioning Thea Aldrin’s name. She was an elderly children’s writer whose books had had terrible consequences for far too many people, including Peder Rydh. His brother had been murdered, and Peder had been so angry that he’d shot the perpetrator, putting an end to his career as a police officer.

Alex’s thoughts returned to the ongoing investigation, to Malcolm Benke in his armchair and Lovisa Wahlberg in the ground. Some people were capable of extinguishing life, under certain circumstances.

Does that apply to me too? Am I capable of murder? I’d really like to think the answer’s no.

‘That was a long time ago,’ Berlin replied. ‘Plus he’s expressed an interest in this particular case.’

‘Has he indeed.’

‘Yes, he has. For very good reasons. He has good knowledge of Lovisa Wahlberg’s background.’

Fredrika sighed and sat down on the visitor’s chair in Alex’s office.

‘That’s good news,’ she said. ‘And what background is this?’

Berlin ignored the sarcasm.

‘Lovisa was suspected of drug offences a number of years ago. Not here in Sweden, but in Haiti. I think that’s what he said. The Swedish police were involved on the periphery, and Torbjörn was the main contact.’

Alex pricked up his ears, noticed that Fredrika did the same. The tattoo on Lovisa’s wrist, the chemical formula that neither of them had recognised.

‘Cocaine,’ he said.

‘Exactly. It was thought that she’d been a courier between Scandinavia, Central America and the West Indies. However, she was cleared and allowed to return home. Since then she’s had nothing to do with the police.’

Malcolm Benke. Lovisa. What was the connection? Alex wondered.

‘Did Lovisa know Benke’s daughter?’ Fredrika asked, obviously on the same track.

‘You’ll have to ask Torbjörn,’ Berlin said, then she was gone again. By tacit agreement Alex and Fredrika hadn’t said anything about the book they’d found in Benke’s house. They couldn’t cope with her guesses and speculation before they’d had time to process the discovery themselves.

This time they waited until they were sure she couldn’t hear them.

‘This is unbelievable,’ Fredrika began. ‘How the hell can she give this case to Ross?’

Alex could only agree. ‘But we need to make sure we collaborate effectively with him, otherwise this will go badly wrong before we’ve even started.’

And the next thought: I’m not inviting him to a single fucking meeting.