Odd nods and Karen feels her stomach tighten at the memory of Kneought Brodal’s report about the two-day-old signs of assault on Gabriel’s body. She had been the one who revealed his side hustle to her cousin.

Odd shoots her a sidelong glance.

‘I didn’t tell the boys. Couldn’t reveal where I got the information from, but I also couldn’t let Gabriel get away with it, so I took care of it myself.’

Karen briefly considers her cousin and wonders whether he has ever thought about it, the way she has. Has he ever wondered why he’s the only one in the family with red hair? Has he ever suspected that the same blood that flows in his veins flowed in Gabriel’s, too? Was that the real reason he chose to ‘take care of’ Gabriel himself, instead of leaving it to the OP boys?

And she thinks about the cigarette butt Odd dropped before getting into the car. How easy it would be for her to get a definitive answer.

She pushes the thought aside, shrugs and fixes her cousin with a disapproving stare.

‘I can probably guess how you took care of it . . .’

‘What do you expect? He knew what he was doing and he got off bloody lightly, let’s be crystal fucking clear about that. And I talked to him afterwards. Or, to be more precise, he started talking.’

‘And what did he say?’

Odd takes a last drag on his cigarette, opens the door a crack and flicks the butt out. A freezing gust of wind finds its way into the cab, making the tip of Karen’s cigarette flare. She pulls out the ashtray and stubs hers out.

‘Look, he’d been bragging for a while about this grand scheme he’d come up with. Something that would hand control of Groth’s distillery over to the OP. The boys didn’t believe him and neither did I. The guy was a tosser, a useful idiot who thought he was halfway to joining. We got some use out of him, sure, but admitting him as a full member was never on the table.’

Karen decides to refrain from asking what use the OP got out of Gabriel Stuub – at least for now.

‘But when you told me he was using our mark, I decided to have a chat with him, like I said,’ Odd continues.

‘When was this?’

‘The day before New Year’s Eve, or the night, I should say. In this very spot, actually. A good place for a serious chat, this.’

Close to Gabriel’s work, not too far from Odd’s house. And yet remote and deserted. At least on a dark December night when no one is visiting the cemetery. Like right now. Probably an ideal place for ‘a serious chat’ Karen thinks to herself and suppresses a sudden shudder of uncertainty. Surely Odd would never hurt her?