Katja Stuub comes to the door of her parents’ yellow wooden house in central Thorsvik. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail and a light swelling around her eyes reveals she has been crying. A girl of about four with her thumb in her mouth is clinging to one of her jeans-clad legs, while a boy who looks to be a few years older is peering out suspiciously from behind her back. A grey-haired woman is standing further down the hallway. She nods to them from afar but makes no move to come to greet them.

‘Welcome,’ Katja says and holds out her hand. ‘Mum has promised to keep an eye on the kids so we can talk without disruptions. Would you mind if we sit in the kitchen, so they can watch TV?’

‘Of course,’ Karen replies and smiles at the children. ‘Loke and Lava, right?’

An image of Aylin’s children flashes before her and suddenly there’s a knot in her stomach. It takes considerable effort to bring her focus back to the present. Right here, right now, there’s nothing she can do.

Once they have seated themselves around the kitchen table and been served coffee and apple crumble, despite half-hearted protests, Karen gets straight to the point.

‘So, as you already know, we’re here to ask you some questions about Gabriel’s death. From what I understand, you filed for divorce but are still formally married. Is that correct?’

Katja Stuub nods and quickly runs the back of her hand under her nose.

‘Yes, the divorce won’t be final until the end of the year,’ she says. ‘Or . . . well, I don’t know how it works now. I suppose I’m technically a widow.’

‘Yes, according to Doggerian law, divorce proceedings are automatically terminated if one party passes away,’ Karen tells her. ‘But you can let them know if you want to complete the process,’ she adds. ‘Since the divorce has already been initiated, it’s your right.’

And sure, there have been examples of a people insisting on making the divorce official even after their spouse passed away. But it’s highly unusual. And almost always involves domestic abuse. Women who don’t even want to be the widow of the person who assaulted them.

‘But that would entail giving up any claim to the inheritance, of course,’ Karl puts in.

Katja Stuub looks uncomfortable, but doesn’t rise to the bait. Karen realises direct questions will be required if they want to get anything out of this conversation.

‘We’re trying to get a sense of what Gabriel was like as a person. Can I ask why you were getting divorced?’

‘I wanted to,’ Katja replies tersely. ‘Gabriel wanted us to carry on.’

‘And why did you want to get divorced? Did he beat you?’ Karl asks bluntly.

Katja shoots him a quick glance and then sighs.