'It's me.' Patrik's voice had an empty sound to it, and Erica was Instantly uneasy.

When he entered the living room she was even more concerned. His face was grey, and his eyes had a dead expression that didn't vanish until he caught sight of Maja, still asleep in Erica's arms. With two long strides he came over to them, and before Erica could react he had swept up the sleeping baby, pressing her hard to his chest. He didn't even stop when Maja woke up from the shock of being picked up so abruptly and started shrieking as loud as she could.

'What are you doing? You're scaring Maja!'

Erica tried to take the screaming baby from Patrik to calm her down, but he fended off her attempt and just hugged the infant even harder. Maja was now screaming hysterically, and for lack of any better idea Erica slapped him on the arm and said, 'Stop that! What's wrong with you? Can't you see that she's terrified?'

Then Patrik seemed to snap out of it. He cast a confused look at his daughter, who was bright red in the face from anger and fright.

'Sorry.' He handed Maja over to Erica, who did her best to soothe the baby. After a few minutes she succeeded, and Maja's screams gave way to low sobbing. Erica looked at Patrik, who had sat down on the sofa and was staring out at the storm.

'What's happened, Patrik?' said Erica, now in a kinder tone. She couldn't prevent a hint of uneasiness from creeping into her voice.

'We got a report of a drowned child today. From here in Fjällbacka. Martin and I took the call.' He paused, unable to go on.

'Oh my God, what happened? Who was it?'

Then her thoughts began whirling until they all fell into place at once, like tiny puzzle pieces.

'Oh my God,' she repeated. 'It's Sara, isn't it? Charlotte was supposed to come over for coffee this afternoon, but she never showed up and there was no answer when I rang her at home. That's it, isn't it? It was Sara you found, right?'

Patrik could only nod. Erica sank into the easy chair to prevent her legs from buckling under her. Before her she could see Sara jumping on their living room sofa as recently as two days ago. With her long red hair flying about her head and laughter bubbling up inside her like an unstoppable primal force.

'Oh my God,' Erica said again, putting her hand to her mouth as she felt her heart sink like a stone to her stomach. Patrik just stared out of the window, and she saw in profile his jaws clenching tight.

'It was so horrible, Erica. I haven't seen Sara that many times, but seeing her lying there in that boat, totally lifeless… I kept picturing Maja in my mind. Since then my thoughts have been churning round in my head. I can't stop imagining if something like that happened to Maja. And then having to tell Charlotte what happened…'

Erica uttered a whimpering, tormented sound. She had no words to describe the depth of the sympathy she felt for Charlotte, and Niclas too. She understood at once Patrik's reaction, and found herself holding Maja even closer. She was never going to let her go. She would sit here holding her tight, keeping her safe, for ever. But Maja squirmed restlessly, intuiting as most children can that things were not as they should be.

Outside the storm continued to rage. Patrik and Erica just sat there for a long time, watching the wild play of nature. Neither of them could stop thinking about the child who was taken by the sea.

Medical examiner Tord Pedersen began the task with an unusually resolute expression on his face. After many years in his profession he had developed a hardened attitude – either desirable or loathsome, depending on how one wanted to view it – which meant that most of the ghastly things he observed in his work left little trace at the end of the day. But there was something about Hitting open a child that conflicted with a primal instinct and disrupted all routine, undermining the objective professionalism that his years as a medical examiner had given him. The defencelessness of a child tore down all the defensive walls that his psyche could put up, so his hand shook a bit as he moved it towards the girl's chest.

When she was brought in he had been told that drowning was the presumed cause of death. Now it was up to him to confirm or reject that hypothesis. But so far there was nothing he could see with the naked eye to contradict it.

The mercilessly bright glare in the post-mortem room emphasized her blue pallor so that it looked like she was freezing. The cold aluminium table beneath her seemed to reflect the cold, and Pedersen shivered in his green scrubs. She was naked as she lay there, and he felt as though he were violating her as he prized open and cut into the defenceless body. But he forced himself to shake off that feeling. He knew that the task he was performing was important, both for the girl and her parents, even if they didn't realize it themselves. It was necessary for the grieving process to have a final determination of the cause of death. Even though there didn't seem to be any ambiguities in this case, the rules were in place for a reason. He knew this on a professional level, but as a human being and father with two boys at home, he sometimes wondered in cases like this how much humanity there was in the work he was doing.

'Agnes, I have nothing but tedious meetings today. It's not a good Idea for you to come along.'

'Hut I want to go with you today. I'm so bored. There's nothing to do.'

'What about your girlfriends?'

'They're all busy,' Agnes replied, sulking. 'Britta's getting ready for her wedding, Laila's going to Halden with her parents to visit her brother, and Sonja has to help her mother.' In a sad voice she added, 'Imagine having a mother to help…' She peered at her father from under her fringe. Yes, the ploy had worked, as usual.

He sighed. 'Well then, come along if you like. But you have to promise to sit still and be quiet, and not run about like a whirlwind talking to the staff. The last time you completely confused those poor old men; it took them several days to get over it.' He couldn't help smiling at his daughter. She was unruly, certainly, but a more dazzling girl could not be found on this side of the Norwegian border.

Agnes gave a happy laugh, having once again emerged victorious, and she rewarded her father with a hug and a pat on his big belly.

'Nobody has a father like mine,' she cooed, and August Stjernkvist chuckled with pleasure.

'What would I do without you?' he said half in earnest, half in jest, pulling her close.

'Oh, you don't have to worry about that. I'm not going anywhere.'

'No, not at the moment, anyway,' he said sombrely, caressing her dark hair. 'But it won't be long before some man is going to come and steal you away from me. If you can find one who's good enough, that is,' he laughed. 'Up until now it's been slim pickings, I must say.'

'Well, I can't just take any man who comes along,' Agnes laughed in reply. 'Not with the example I've had. So it's no wonder I'm particular.'

'Look here, my girl, enough flattery,' August preened. 'Get a move on if you're coming with me to the office. It wouldn't do for the boss to arrive late.'

Despite his admonishing words it took almost an hour before they were on their way. First there was the whole business of tending to her hair and clothes, but by the time Agnes was ready, her father had to admit that the result was worth it.

'I'm sorry I'm late,' said August as he swept into the room where three men were sat waiting. 'But I hope you'll forgive me when you see the reason for my tardiness.' He gestured towards Agnes, who was close behind him. She was wearing a red dress that clung to her body, accentuating her slim waist. Although many girls had let their hair fall to the scissors in a bob, as was the fashion in the Twenties, Agnes had been smart enough to resist the temptation. Her thick black hair was done up in a simple chignon at her neck. She was well aware of the impression she made, thanks to the mirror at home. Now she exploited it fully as she paused in front of the men, slowly removing her gloves, and then letting them shake her hand, one by one.