The door was open, the hall empty and dark, there was no light anywhere aside from some pale daylight under the door at the other end. He went to the door and opened it: it led into a large room, and he could see the street through the windows. There was a hammering on the door. He went to unfasten the lock. Ringmar, Bergenhem, and Sara Helander were standing outside.

"It's all quiet in here," said Winter.

"Let's take a floor each?" Bergenhem said.

They did so, and Winter retraced his steps and tried another door.

The staircase was steep. It was as dark as night. He turned on his flashlight and shone it down. The stairs led to a narrow corridor that led in turn to an empty room. He could see a curtain and a pane of glass. There was a CD player. The flashlight beam burrowed its way into the wall, and shadows darted around the room, which smelled of stale sweat. Or something even worse, he thought. Fear.

He found a light switch. He pressed himself against the wall and turned on the light, which was white and dazzling for a second.

Vennerhag drove back with the sun in his face. The weather forecast on the radio said it was going to get even hotter, which sounded impossible.

He'd turned off the air-conditioning so that he could feel the morning breeze through the open window. It smelled of things he recognized but had forgotten the name of. He was thinking about a lot of things. He felt calm, but the situation was complicated.

Ha, ha.

He hadn't asked for it. Things had grown worse and worse, but that wasn't his fault, not in that way, unless silence in itself was wrong. Well, yes, of course it is. You don't keep quiet about things like that. Even if it's got nothing to do with you.

He drove down the last of the hills toward the center of town. He tried to think what he should do with her. With her. He hadn't had any help from Samic. Samic was dangerous for everybody, worse than he was. They could have him.

Better to wait and see what happened. Must think. Sleep.

Winter stood in front of the glass panel and understood. They'd find similar setups elsewhere in the house.

It was here. There was an answer. The girls had been here, they must have been here and done whatever they did. Danced.

Beier's forensics technicians would have plenty to occupy them here.

The house was deserted. Why? Because of Halders? Yes. Halders had appeared, and that was why they'd all disappeared. "All." Who was all?

Where was Halders?

Winter looked around. The dust would have stories to tell for the forensics team: marks, stains, prints, fibers.

He went back up the stairs and into the big room, which was also a hall with a staircase leading up to other floors.

Ringmar appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Come up here, Erik."

Ringmar waited for him at the top. A new hall, morning light coming through the door to another room.

It was a bar, and the trappings were familiar. The wall seemed to be built of real brick, but when Winter touched them he could feel the plastic. There was a table and some chairs, and peculiar decorations on the walls.

"Just like in the photographs," said Ringmar.

"We have Sara to thank for this," said Winter,

She had come into the room and heard what he said.

"Don't thank me until we've heard from Halders," she said. "I should have stopped him."

"Stop Halders?" said Ringmar.

Bergenhem appeared in the doorway. "I've been all around the place and it seems deserted, to say the least," he said.

"OK, let's go and pick up Bielke," said Winter.

They rang the doorbell and Bielke's wife answered, wearing a white robe. Her expression was sleepy.

Bielke didn't say a word in the backseat of Winter's car. A patrol car was behind them. Bielke turned around once. "Now you've crossed the line," he said, when they were in the interrogation room with no windows. Winter was accompanied by Ringmar. "This is an abuse of power."

"We want to ask you a few questions," Winter said.

Bielke didn't seem to be listening.

"We have some new information."

"I'm saying nothing without a lawyer present," said Bielke, whose face looked angular in the bright fluorescent light. His tan was crisscrossed by white diagonal lines.

"OK. We'll wait until he gets here," Winter said.

Bielke's lawyer looked as if he'd seen it all before. It was eight o'clock in the morning, but he was dressed as if for dinner. Maybe he wondered about the weariness in the eyes of the two detectives.

Nevertheless, Winter detected uncertainty in the young man, in his movements, his eyes.

Winter started the interrogation again.

"I'd like to get some details about your movements last night," he said.

Bielke waited.

Winter specified the times.

"It's impossible to ask-" the lawyer began.

"If you're going to keep interrupting you'll be out that door," Winter snapped.

"Wh… what?"

"You are interfering with the interrogation. You can ask questions if you want when I give you permission to do so, but you will do that when I've finished or you're out."

The lawyer looked at Ringmar, who nodded with a friendly smile.

"Is it legal to proceed like this?" asked Bielke, looking first at Winter and then at his lawyer.

Winter asked another question.

Bielke was resting. His lawyer had left, but promised to come back.

"You need to get some sleep, Erik," Ringmar said.

"You're right."

"Go home.''

"I'll sleep here. Two hours."

"Three," said Ringmar. "We'll keep him for another six."

"I want him detained," Winter said.

"Molina will no doubt want more on him than we've got," said Ringmar. "And that's an understatement."

Mr. Prosecutor Molina always wants more than we've got, thought Winter.

"Send Bergenhem and a few of the boys to his house."

"It'll be your decision."

"It is my decision. I've just made it."

"What are they supposed to be looking for?"

"Angelika's camera," Winter said.

"What?"

"The dog leash, the belt, cameras. Anything we need to nail that bastard."

"I think he's sick," said Ringmar.

"That's an understatement." Winter looked at Bertil. "One hour from now Cohen will sit down with him and his lawyer, if he dares to come back."

"Right."

Cohen was an experienced interrogator whom Winter always relied on when he couldn't ask the questions in person.

"We have to press him for more information about Fredrik," Winter said. "I briefed Cohen about that."

"I don't think Bielke knows what happened," said Ringmar. "I don't think he saw Fredrik in there."

"Fredrik may have seen him."