He leaned forward across the table and let her know with a look that she was talking unnecessarily loudly.

‘I mean Rumajärvi.’

‘Why?’

‘Well. Even though living in this hotel is very pleasant, I don’t think we can stay here for the rest of our lives. It’s much too expensive. And Gudrun, she’s tired. She can’t take much more. It’s wearing us all down. So we have to find another solution. A final solution.’

‘Final?’

He glanced to the side and adjusted his watch strap by turning it around his wrist. Then he met her eyes and nodded.

‘And how is that supposed to work?’

‘You don’t have to worry about that.’

‘It’s mice we’re talking about. You can’t even see them. You don’t get it.’

‘I think we should focus on this village. On Lennart Brösth and this Erasmus fellow. I find it hard to believe that these mice would have an axe to grind with you, personally, so to speak.’

‘You don’t understand how twisted that place is.’

‘How many people live in the village?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Then we’ll have to ask for a best guess.’

‘My best guess. Maybe ten.’

‘Men? Women? Children?’

‘I saw one child.’

‘How many are fit to fight? So to speak.’

‘They’re all equally twisted. The worst one, the one I was most afraid of, was a woman. Young, blonde. She was the one who told me what was going to happen to Kiruna.’

‘This not knowing who they are, or even how many they are, complicates things. You want to cut the whole tumour out in one go, you know?’

‘My husband,’ she said. ‘He’s gone.’

‘Yes, I heard.’

‘They may have taken him. He might be there.’

‘In the village?’

She nodded.

‘Do you really think he is?’

‘If not, where is he? Can you tell me that?’

Roland sat in silence for a moment before pressing on.

‘Did you see any of those wolves when you were there? Susso reckons there might be five of them, does that sound right to you?’

‘Mm.’

‘What?’ he said and angled his ear to her.

‘Yes, that sounds about right.’

‘And this Erasmus? What does he look like?’

‘In his seventies. Long beard, long hair. Grey. He’s pretty short. Shorter than me. Like maybe five foot three. And he’s got a limp.’

‘Could you draw him for me?’

‘I can’t draw.’

‘You could try.’

Diana took the pen and started drawing.

When she was done, he studied the picture and nodded.

‘Now I want to know what it is you want us to do.’

He folded the paper and held it in his hand.

‘You won’t have to do anything.’

‘But I don’t understand. What’s your plan?’