The worst thing was that at first he had liked Rune. When his mum first met him he'd thought he was cool as hell. He drove a big American car and had mates who drove trendy choppers, and sometimes they let him ride on the bitch seat. But then they'd gotten married and that's when it all started to go haywire. Suddenly Rune and his mum had to show that they were proper Svenssons, with a house, a Volvo, and even a fucking caravan. The mates with the choppers disappeared, and instead they hung out with other ordinary Svenssons and had dinner parties with couples on Saturday nights. And of course they had to have their own kid. He'd heard Rune say that once to one of the boring neighbour couples. That they needed to have a kid of their own. Naturally he loved Sebastian, he said, but then added in a serious tone of voice that it still wasn't the same thing as having his own kid. So when Rune and his mum never managed to produce their own kid, Rune took it out on his stepson. Sebastian had to endure Rune's frustration over the fact that he and his wife never had a kid of their own. And when Mum died of cancer a few years ago, it only got worse. Now Rune was truly saddled with a kid that wasn't his own. He was always pointing this out, no matter how much Sebastian tried to show that he was grateful not to be shipped off to some horrible foster home when his mother died. Rune insisted on taking care of the boy as if he were his own. But sometimes Sebastian thought that if this was Rune's idea of how to take care of his own kid, then it was just as well that he and Mum had never had one.

Not that Rune beat him or anything. No, a decent, average Svensson like Rune would never do that. But somehow it would almost have felt better if he had. Then Sebastian would have had something more tangible to hate him for. Instead he now abused him only mentally – something that couldn't be seen on the outside.

As he lay staring at the ceiling Sebastian realized in an instant of clarity why he'd landed in his present situation. In spite of everything he loved his stepfather. Rune was the only father he'd ever known, and Sebastian had never wanted anything but to please him and in the end to be loved in return. And that was exactly why he was in deep shit. He understood this. He wasn't stupid. But what good did it do him to be smart? He was still stuck.

'What the hell are you saying?' Kaj's face turned beet-red, and he looked as though he was going to rush like a raging bull over to the neighbours' house. Patrik discreetly blocked his way and raised his hands in a calming gesture.

'Could we just sit down and talk this over in peace and quiet?'

Fury seemed to prevent the words from registering in Kaj's brain. Patrik and Gösta exchanged a glance. Suddenly it didn't seem so unbelievable that he might have attacked Lilian. But it was dangerous to get stuck thinking along certain lines, and until they had heard Kaj's version of the matter it was best not to draw any conclusions.

After Patrik's words had had a few seconds to sink in, Kaj turned round and stomped into the house. He evidently was expecting Patrik and Gösta to follow him, which they did after taking off their shoes. When they entered the kitchen they found Kaj facing them, leaning on the counter with his arms belligerently crossed over his chest. He freed one hand for a moment and pointed at the kitchen chairs. He obviously wasn't planning to sit down.

'What did that old biddy say now? That I hit her? Is that what she claims?' The colour again rose in his face, and for an instant Patrik was worried that the man would have a heart attack right in front of them.

'We've received a report of assault, yes,' Gösta said calmly, beating Patrik to it.

'So she reported me, that bitch!' Kaj yelled, and small drops of sweat began to appear at his greying temples.

'Officially, Lilian has not filed a complaint – not yet,' Patrik added. 'We wanted a chance to talk to you in peace and quiet first, so we could get to the bottom of this whole thing.' He glanced at his notebook and went on. 'So you went over to Lilian Florin's house about an hour ago?'

Kaj nodded reluctantly. 'I just wanted to hear what the hell she meant by reporting me as a suspect in the killing of that kid. She's done a lot of despicable things over the years, but something so…' More drops of sweat appeared, and his rage made him stumble over his words.

'So you walked right into her house?' Gösta asked. He too was starting to look a bit worried about Kaj's health.

'Yeah, what the hell, if I'd knocked she never would have let me in. I just wanted to have a chance to catch her off-guard. Ask her who the hell she thought she was messing with.' A note of anxiety now crept into Kaj's voice for the first time.

'And then what happened?' Patrik was jotting down notes as Kaj talked.

'That's all there was to it!' Kaj threw out his hands. 'I probably yelled at her a bit, I willingly admit it, and she told me to get out of her house. Since I'd said what I came to say, I left.'

'So you didn't hit her?'

'I probably wanted to give her a punch in the nose, but I'm not that fucking stupid.'

'Is that a no?' Patrik asked.

'Yeah, that's a no,' Kaj replied sullenly. 'I didn't touch her, and if she claims I did then she's lying. Which wouldn't surprise me in the least.' Now he was starting to sound really worried.

'Is there anyone who can corroborate your story?' said Gösta.

'No, there isn't. I saw Niclas drive off this morning and I made sure to go over there right after Charlotte left with the little boy in the pushchair.' He wiped his brow with one hand and wiped the sweat on his trouser leg.

'Well, I'm afraid it's your word against hers, unfortunately,' said Patrik. 'And Lilian has marks on her arm.'

Kaj was deflating with each word that Patrik said. His initial aggressiveness had been replaced by resignation. Then he suddenly straightened up.

'What about her husband? He was in the house. Damn, I forgot all about him. He's like a ghost. No one ever sees Stig anymore. But he must have been at home. Maybe he saw or heard something.'

The thought gave him renewed courage, and Patrik looked at Gösta. Imagine, that they hadn't thought of Stig. They hadn't even talked to him about Sara's death. Kaj was right. Stig had been virtually invisible as far as the investigation was concerned up till now. They'd completely forgotten about him.

'We'll go and talk to him as well,' said Patrik. 'Then we'll see what develops. But if he has nothing to add, things won't look too good for you if Lilian decides to press charges

He didn't need to explain his reasoning. Kaj was well aware of the possible consequences.

Charlotte was walking around town aimlessly. Albin was sleeping peacefully in his pushchair. Ever since she'd stopped taking the sedatives she had barely been able to bring herself to look at him. And yet she did what she had to do. She changed him, dressed him and fed him, but mechanically, without any feeling. Because what if it should happen again? Imagine if something happened to him too. She didn't even know how she could go on living without Sara. She put one foot before the other, forcing herself to move forward. But she actually wanted nothing more than to sink down into a little heap in the middle of the pavement and never get up again. Yet she couldn't allow herself to do that, nor could she allow herself to sink into the fog of medication again. Because, despite everything, Albin was still here. Even though she couldn't look at him, she felt in every nerve in her body that she still had one child who was very much alive. And for his sake she had to keep on breathing. But it was just so hard.

And then there was Niclas, who had retreated to work. It was only three days since their daughter was murdered, and he was already back in his office at the clinic, treating colds and minor injuries. Maybe he was even chatting casually with the patients, flirting with the nurses, and enjoying seeing himself in the role of the almighty doctor. Charlotte knew that she was being unfair. She knew that Niclas was suffering as much as she was. She just wished that they could have shared the pain, instead of each of them trying separately to find a reason to keep breathing for another minute, and then another and another. It wasn't what she wanted, but she couldn't help feeling anger and contempt because he had abandoned her now when she needed him most. On the other hand, perhaps she shouldn't have expected anything else. When had she ever been able to lean on him? When had he ever been anything but an overgrown child who counted on her to take care of all the dreary chores that shaped the daily lives of most people? But not his. He was supposed to have the right to play his way through life. To do only what was fun and enjoyable. It had surprised her that he'd even completed his medical studies. She had never believed that he would last long enough to get through all the obligatory stages and exhausting shiftwork. But the potential rewards had probably been tempting enough to keep him motivated. He wanted to be respected by others. A happy and successful person. At least outwardly.