Only an insane person would have done something like this.

By two o'clock they had all the information they needed. Annika had done the legwork, and Patrik thanked her in a low voice as he gathered up all the pages that had come in by fax in a steady stream. He knocked on Martin's door but walked in without waiting for him to answer.

'Hello,' said Martin, and managed to make the casual greeting sound like a question. He knew what Patrik and Annika had been working on, and he only needed to see Patrik's face to know that their efforts had paid off.

Patrik didn't reply to the greeting but sat down in the chair in front of Martin's desk and placed the faxes on his desktop without commenting.

'I presume you've come up with something,' said Martin, reaching for the stack of paper.

'Yes, after we succeeded in getting a warrant, it was like opening Pandora's box. There's all sorts of information. See for yourself.'

Patrik leaned back in the chair and waited for Martin to finish skimming through the printouts.

'This doesn't look good,' said Martin after a while.

'No, it doesn't,' said Patrik, shaking his head. 'A total of thirteen times Albin was taken to the clinic with some sort of injury. Broken leg, cuts, burns, and God knows what else. It's like reading a textbook on child abuse.'

'And you think it's Niclas and not Charlotte who did all this?' Martin nodded at the stack of faxes.

'First of all, there's no proof that it is actually child abuse. No one has found any reason to start asking questions before now, and theoretically he might just be the unluckiest kid in the world. That said, both you and I know that's very unlikely. It's possible that someone abused Albin on repeated occasions. Whether it's Niclas or Charlotte, well, that's impossible to say for sure. But at the moment Niclas is the one we have the most questions about, so I'm assuming he's the more likely candidate, at least.'

'Could it be both of them? There have been cases like that, as you know.'

'Absolutely,' said Patrik. 'Anything is possible, and we can't rule it out. But considering the fact that Niclas lied about his alibi – and also attempted to get someone else to lie for him – I'd like to bring him in for a serious talk. Are we agreed on that?'

Martin nodded. 'Yes, definitely. Let's get him in here and present this information to him and then see what he has to say.'

'Good, that's what we'll do, then. Should we go over there right away?'

Martin nodded. 'I'm ready if you are.'

An hour later they had Niclas sitting across from them in the interview room. He looked obdurate, but he hadn't protested when they fetched him from the clinic. It was as though he had no energy to make any objections. At no time during the trip to the station had he asked why they wanted to talk to him. Instead he had stared out at the passing landscape and let the silence speak for itself. For a brief moment Patrik felt a pang of sympathy. It looked as though Niclas's brain had only now registered the fact that his daughter was dead, and for the present he was devoting all his energy trying to cope with that knowledge. Then Patrik remembered the contents of the physician's reports, and his sympathy was quickly and effectively extinguished.

'Do you know why we want to talk with you?' Patrik began calmly.

'No,' Niclas replied, studying the tabletop.

'We've received some information that is…' Patrik paused for effect, 'disturbing.'

No response from Niclas. His whole body slumped forward, and his hands resting on the table were trembling slightly.

'Don't you want to know what sort of information we have?' said Martin kindly, but Niclas didn't respond to that either.

'Then we'll tell you,' Martin went on, glancing at Patrik to take over, who cleared his throat.

'First of all, it turned out that the statement you gave us about where you were on Monday morning was not correct.'

Here Niclas looked up for the first time. Patrik thought he saw a glint of surprise, which disappeared just as rapidly. In the absence of any verbal reply, Patrik continued.

'The person who gave you an alibi has retracted her statement. In plain Swedish: Jeanette has now told us that you were not with her at all, as you claimed, and she also says that you asked her to lie about it.'

No reaction from Niclas. It seemed as though all emotion had drained out of him, leaving behind only a vacuum. He showed no anger, astonishment, consternation, or any of the feelings that Patrik had expected. He waited him out, but silence prevailed.

'Would you like to comment?' Martin coaxed him.

Niclas shook his head. 'If that's her story…'

'Perhaps you'd like to tell us where you were during the hours in question.'

Niclas merely shrugged. Then he said in a low voice, 'I have no intention of making any statement. I don't even understand why I'm here and being asked these questions. It's my daughter who is dead. Why would I have harmed her?' He raised his eyes and looked at Patrik, who saw a suitable avenue to the next question.

'Perhaps because you have a habit of abusing your children. At least Albin.'

Now Niclas gave a start, and he stared at Patrik with his mouth open. A slight quiver of his lower lip was the first indication of emotion they'd seen. 'What do you mean?' said Niclas uncertainly, and his eyes flicked between Patrik and Martin.

'We know,' Martin said calmly, leafing demonstratively through the stack of papers before him. He had made copies of the faxes so that both he and Patrik had a set.

'What is it you think you know?' said Niclas, and his voice contained a hint of defiance. But he couldn't prevent his gaze from returning to the papers in front of Martin.

'Thirteen times Albin has been treated for various types of injuries. What does that tell you as a doctor? What conclusion would you draw if someone came in thirteen times with a child who had burns, cuts and broken bones?'

Niclas pressed his lips together.

Patrik went on. 'Well, you didn't take him to the same clinic every time. That would have been tempting fate, wouldn't it? But when we gathered reports from the hospital in Uddevalla and the clinics in the region, it makes a total of thirteen times. Is he an unusually accident-prone child, or what?'

Still no reply from Niclas. Patrik looked at his hands. Were those hands capable of injuring a little child?

'Perhaps there's an explanation for this,' said Martin in a deceptively gentle voice. 'I mean, I can understand that things can just get to be too much sometimes. You doctors work long hours and are worn-out and stressed. Sara was also a very demanding girl, and having a little baby as well might have been enough to break even the best of us. All the frustrations that need to get out, that have to find an outlet. In spite of everything, we're only human, aren't we? And that could explain why there haven't been any more reports of "accidents" since you moved to Fjällbacka. Getting some help around the house, a less stressful job, and everything suddenly feels easier. There's no longer a need to vent your frustrations.'

'You know nothing about me or my life. Don't flatter yourself that you do,' Niclas said with unexpected acrimony, staring down at the tabletop. 'I'm not going to talk to you about this anymore, so you can just as well cut out the psychobabble.'

'You mean you have no comment at all to any of this?' said Patrik, waving his copies of the reports.

'No, I don't. I already told you that,' replied Niclas stubbornly continuing to study the top of the table.

'You realize that we have to turn over this data to social welfare, don't you?' said Patrik, leaning towards Niclas. Once again they saw only a slight quiver of his lip.

'Do what you have to do,' said Niclas in a thick voice. 'Do you intend to hold me here, or can I go now?'