‘Me? He was out of control. Must have bought his licence online.’

‘Just tell me what you found so we can hang up and save some lives.’

‘The laptop. The one you and Byle found. They haven’t gone through everything yet but the old man had a lot of documents about Noorö history, runes, cod levels, fishing quotas, expansive cement and whatever else. And then some stuff from the university, an employment contract, parts of his research on mould and other crap like that. You’ll get copies so you can have a look for yourself. There was nothing of interest in his browser history so far as I could make out. Aside from the aforementioned subjects, Fredrik Stuub apparently spent most his time researching genealogy and mushroom picking. Oh, and he did a search for a dewormer for dogs.’

What the hell is expansive cement? Karen thinks to herself. But this is not the time to ask Sören Larsen to explain; the sooner he can get back to focusing on driving, the better.

‘OK, Karl and I will have to go over everything with a fine-tooth comb and see if we can unearth anything interesting,’ she says. ‘Is that it?’

‘Hold your horses, this is the best part. Fredrik Stuub sent some emails that might be worth having a look at. Or, to be more precise, one email. To Björn Groth, on 22 December.’

Larsen pauses for effect. Karen stands stock-still with the phone pressed to her ear, waiting for him to continue.

‘Come on, Sören,’ she snaps after a few seconds. ‘What did he write?’

Sören Larsen sounds decidedly pleased with himself when he replies.

‘Verbatim, it says: “I have information that can put an end to your expansion plans. Contact me asap.” Signed with Fredrik Stuub’s name and mobile number.’

Chapter 42

42

‘Would you mind holding on?’

The scraping of chairs being pushed drowns out her question, so Karen puts a hand on Thorstein Byle’s arm instead as he, too, starts to get up.

He sinks back onto his chair.

‘I’d like a word in private,’ she says quietly.

The morning meeting at the Lysvik police station is over. Before Röse, Andersson and Svanemark leave the room, they knock back the last of their coffee and reach out for fistfuls of biscuits.