Karen grits her teeth and thinks furiously while Karl firmly leads her over to the passenger seat. If Bo suspects Aylin might have gone to Karen’s, he could turn up in Langevik any minute. And if they leave, they risk meeting him on the road.

‘Stay where you are. Lock all the doors and windows and make sure Aylin and the kids stay upstairs. Did she drive there or take a taxi?’

‘She drove here. No idea how she managed it, but—’

‘You’re going to have to move the car,’ Karen breaks in. ‘Go down the gravel road past my house and continue past the turning area. You can make a left across a rocky patch and go down a gully on the other side of the ridge.’

‘Cliffs?’ Leo asks dubiously.

‘My dad turned a trailer around there once, so I know it’s possible as long as you’re careful. And no one will be able to see the car if you park it down there.’

‘All right,’ Leo says. ‘Anything else?’

‘Close the curtains upstairs. All the better if he can see you and Sigrid downstairs, though. But keep Aylin and the kids upstairs until I get there. And go move the damn car right now. Call me when it’s done.’

‘What’s going on?’ Karl says after climbing in behind the wheel.

‘A friend of mine has been assaulted by husband,’ Karen says darkly. ‘Damn it, I should have seen it coming!’

She punches the glove compartment so hard it pops open. Then she checks her watch.

‘The ferry from Lysvik leaves in twenty-eight minutes. Can we make it?’

Without replying, Karl speeds up.

*

They just make it. They’re the last car to drive onto the ferry; Karen stands powerless on the stern deck, watching the lights from Lysvik retreat into the darkness with excruciating slowness. She takes a deep drag on her cigarette, picturing her house in Langevik. Her home, where she has always felt safe, despite its remote location. The last house of the village, at least two hundred yards to the nearest neighbour, she thinks and touches her keys in her pocket.

For the first time in years she thinks about her service gun, which is locked in a safe on the first floor. She has only fired it once, and a warning shot was enough that time.

‘I would call in a few of our colleagues, if I were you,’ Karl says, waving away the smoke.

‘Leo says she’ll take off if I do. I don’t even think she’s going to report it.’

‘Why not? Is she afraid of the police?’

‘She’s afraid of him. He has contacts in high places.’

‘“Contacts in high places”? Who is this guy, the good Lord himself?’

‘Hardly. Just Bo Ramnes.’

‘The Bo Ramnes? The big-shot lawyer?’