He fails. Karen shoots him a searching look. Though he hasn’t said a word about it, she knows her sick leave has thrown a spanner in his parental leave plans. Ingrid can hardly be happy he’s back on the job again.

‘Trouble at home?’ she says.

He nods.

‘Then you’re definitely going home,’ she says. ‘Do it right. Dress up and put on a fake beard and shower your wife and children with gifts. That’s an order.’

‘OK, I’ll head off tomorrow after lunch and I’ll be back early Thursday morning. What about you? Are things OK with your friend?’

‘OK might be overstating it, but it seems things are pretty calm for now.’

‘Has she reported the bastard?’

Karen sighs.

‘Yes. And then she recanted her statement, but I don’t think she’ll go back to him this time. And Marike and Leo have promised to call me straight away if something happens.’

‘So you’re staying here over Twelfth Night, all alone?’

‘Cornelis is sticking around, too, so I suppose the two of us will have to make what we can of it. I’m probably going to be invited to a family get-together, and the thought of driving all the way back to Langevik is very nearly more off-putting. Besides, things didn’t go so well the last time I left the island,’ she adds with a wry smile. ‘We wouldn’t want to risk a third murder.’

Chapter 63

63

The sound is almost imperceptible; it’s a deep vibration reverberating from downstairs that makes her sit bolt upright in bed, a light rattling of the windows that’s not caused by a passing lorry or the wind or some clomping neighbour. There are no lorries driving around here at one in the morning, the snow is falling silently outside, and she is alone in the house. Even before she hears the sound again, louder this time, she knows someone has grabbed the door handle and is trying to push open the door to the studio.

She has known he would come, sooner or later. He is going to methodically check every place he can think of, one after the other. Karen’s house, Marike’s, the studio. And Kore and Eirik’s house, too, of course. He’s already been to her parents’. Her mother hadn’t wanted to tell her yesterday, hadn’t wanted to upset her daughter, but eventually, when asked directly, she had admitted Bo had been there. He’d sat in his car outside their house for almost an hour. In the end, her father had gone out and shouted at him that there was no point hanging around. Aylin wasn’t there. Her mother had reluctantly told her what Bo had said back.

‘He asked us to tell you he’s heartbroken and just wants you to come home. He doesn’t understand why you’ve left him.’