‘Killed?’ repeated Fredrik. ‘You mean murdered? Was she murdered? Is that what you’re saying? Who did it?’ He probably looked as confused as he felt. This wasn’t on the list of scenarios that had popped into his head.

‘We have no suspect as yet. But we’re going to start interviewing straight away. Beginning with your cast. The officers who observed your party last night reported that there was a lot of arguing between the murdered woman and the other cast members.’

‘Yes, there were some harsh words and a bit of argy bargy,’ said Fredrik, recalling the scenes they had just watched. ‘But nothing that seemed serious enough for anyone to . . .’

‘We also need your tapes from yesterday.’ Patrik’s tone was curt as he looked Fredrik straight in the eye.

Fredrik stared back. ‘I’m not authorized to let you have any tapes,’ he said calmly. ‘Until I receive a warrant directing me to hand over the material, all of it stays here. Anything else is unacceptable.’

‘You do realize that this is a murder investigation?’ Patrik snapped. Though had hoped for a different response it came as no surprise.

‘Yes, I realize that, but we can’t just turn over our material. There are many ethical principles involved.’ He smiled, pretending regret. Patrik merely snorted. They both knew that ethics were not the reason for his refusal.

‘But I presume that you will cancel the broadcast immediately in view of what has happened.’

Fredrik shook his head. ‘We absolutely cannot do that. We have programme slots booked for the next four weeks, and shutting down production now . . . no, it’s simply impossible. And I don’t think Barbie would have wanted that either; she would have wanted us to continue.’

One look at Patrik told him that he’d stepped over the line. The officer’s face was bright red, and he seemed to be fighting to hold back a couple of choice epithets.

‘You don’t mean to tell me that you’re actually considering –’ He broke off and interjected, ‘What was her real name? I can’t keep calling her Barbie. That’s too degrading. And by the way, I’m going to need all her personal data and contact details for her next of kin. Would you be willing to give us that information, or is that also a matter of ethics?’

The last word was dripping with sarcasm, but his anger had no effect on Fredrik. For some reason the reality-show format seemed to engender hostility; he was accustomed to dealing with it. Calmly he replied, ‘Her name is Lillemor Persson. And she grew up in foster homes, so we have no record of a next of kin. But you’ll be given all the information we have. No problem.’ He smiled suavely. ‘When are you starting the interviews? Is there any chance we could film them?’ It was a long shot, and the murderous look he got from Patrik was a clear enough answer.

‘We’ll be starting the interviews immediately,’ Patrik said curtly, getting up to leave the bus. He didn’t even bother to say goodbye before slamming the door behind him.

‘What a fucking stroke of luck,’ said Fredrik breathlessly, and the technician could only nod. This was their chance to take real drama directly into Sweden’s living rooms. For a second he thought of Barbie. Then he picked up the phone. The management had to hear about this. Sodding Tanum goes CSI. Jesus, the ratings would go through the roof!

‘How should we do this?’ Martin asked. He and Hanna had decided to stay in the break room and work, and he reached for the coffee pot to refill their cups. Hanna poured in milk and stirred. ‘Should we each write our own account first, do you think, or should we write it together?’

Hanna thought for a moment. ‘I think it would be more complete if we wrote the report together and compared notes about what we remembered as we work on it.’

‘Okay,’ said Martin, opening his laptop and booting it up. ‘Shall I type, or do you want to?’

‘You type,’ said Hanna. ‘I still type with two fingers, and I’ve never built up any speed.’

‘Okay, I’ll do the typing,’ Martin laughed, entering the password. He opened a new Word document and got ready to start filling the screen with words.

‘The first I noticed of the commotion last night was when I heard loud voices behind the building. How about you?’

Hanna nodded. ‘Yes, I hadn’t noticed anything before that. The only thing we had to deal with earlier in the evening was that girl who was so drunk she couldn’t stand up. What time could that have been? Midnight?’ Martin typed while Hanna talked. ‘Then I think it was around one when I heard two people yelling at each other. I called for you and we went behind the building and found Barbie and Uffe.’

‘Mmm,’ said Martin, still typing. ‘I checked my watch and it was ten to one. I came around the corner first and saw Uffe holding Barbie by the shoulders and shaking her violently. Both of us ran over to them. I took hold of Uffe and dragged him away, while you took care of Barbie.’

‘Yes, and Uffe was so aggressive that he tried aiming some kicks at the girl while you were holding him.’

‘We defused the situation,’ Martin continued, ‘and separated the individuals. I talked to Uffe and told him that he’d have to come down to the station if he didn’t cool it.’

‘I hope you’re not going to write “cool it”,’ Hanna laughed.

‘Well, only temporarily. Later I have to edit the text and make it sound bureaucratic, so don’t worry. For now, just let the words flow so we can get everything down.’

‘Okay,’ said Hanna with a smile. Then she turned serious again. ‘I spoke with Barbie and tried to find out what had precipitated the argument. She was very upset and kept saying that Uffe was mad because she was “talking trash” about him, but that she didn’t understand what he was on about. She calmed down after a while and seemed to be okay.’

‘And then we let them go,’ Martin filled in, looking up from the computer. He pressed Enter twice for a new paragraph, took a gulp of coffee, and continued. ‘The next incident happened at . . . oh, about two thirty, I would say.’

‘Thereabouts,’ said Hanna. ‘Two thirty, quarter to three.’

‘This time it was a partygoer who came to tell us about an argument taking place on the slope down to the school. We approached the scene and saw several people assaulting a lone female. They were taunting and shoving and poking at her. It was the cast members Mehmet, Tina, and Uffe attacking Barbie. We went in and broke up the fight by force. Barbie was crying; her hair was mussed up and her make-up had smeared. She seemed very shaken. I talked to the others, trying to find out what had happened. They gave the same answer as Uffe gave earlier, that Barbie was “talking a lot of trash”. That was the best explanation I could get.’

‘Meanwhile I was with Barbie a short distance away,’ Hanna filled in, sounding emotional. ‘She was upset and scared. I asked if she wanted to file a complaint against them, but she refused. I talked to her for a while trying to calm her down, find out what it was all about, but she claimed that she had no idea. After a while I looked round to see what was going on with you. When I turned back, I saw Barbie running in the direction of town, but then she went right instead of heading towards the business district. I considered running after her, but then decided that she probably just needed to be alone and calm down.’ Hanna’s voice was trembling a bit. ‘After that we didn’t see her again.’

Martin looked up from the computer and gave her a smile to console her. ‘We couldn’t have done anything differently. All we knew was that they’d had a strong difference of opinion. There was nothing to indicate that it would . . .’ he paused, ‘end the way it did.’

‘Do you think it was one of the cast members who murdered her?’ Hanna’s voice was still shaky.

‘I don’t know,’ said Martin, reading over what he’d typed on the screen. ‘For the moment, they’re all suspects. We’ll have to see what the interviews turn up.’