‘What’s going on?’ Jenny took a firmer grip on Max, who was doing his best to wriggle out of her arms.

‘We’re not sure yet. Anders Nilsson is dead, but we don’t know much more. Did you see or hear anything unusual?’

‘No, I can’t recall anything special. The first I heard was when my next-door neighbour started talking to somebody here in the stairwell. After a while the police cars arrived and an ambulance, and there was a hell of a commotion out here.’

‘But nothing special earlier today, or last night?’ Patrik was still fishing.

‘No, not a thing.’

Patrik let it drop for the time being. ‘Okay, thanks for your help, Jenny.’

He smiled at Max and let him grab hold of his finger, something that was apparently hysterically funny because Max laughed so hard he looked like he might choke. Reluctantly Patrik tore himself loose and backed slowly in the direction of Anders’s flat while he kept waving at Max and saying bye-bye.

Lena stood in the doorway of the flat with a mocking smile on her lips. ‘Need one of your own, don’t you?’

To his dismay Patrik felt himself blush, something that only made Lena smile even more. He muttered something unintelligible in reply.

She preceded him into the flat, saying over her shoulder, ‘Well, you know, all you have to do is ask. I’m free and single and I’ve got a biological clock ticking so loud I can hardly sleep at night.’

Patrik knew she was joking, that was Lena’s usual flirty banter, but he still couldn’t help blushing even more. He didn’t reply, and when they entered the living room they both lost any urge to smile.

Someone had cut Anders’s body down from the rope it had been hanging from, and now he lay on the living-room floor. Right above him hung the stub of the rope, sliced off about four inches from the hook. The rest of the rope was around Anders’s neck in a noose, and Patrik could see the deep, angry red wound on his neck where the rope had bit into the skin. What always bothered him the most about dead people was the unnatural facial colour. Strangulation caused a nasty bluish-purple hue which gave the victim a very odd look. Patrik also recognized the thick, swollen tongue sticking out between Anders’s lips as normal for victims who were strangled or suffocated. Even though his experience with murder victims was limited, to say the least, the police got their share of suicides each year, and he’d helped cut down three of them during his career.

But when Patrik looked around the living room there was one thing that quite clearly distinguished this scene from the suicides by hanging that he’d seen. There was no possibility that Anders could have climbed up and put his head through the noose tied to the ceiling. No chairs or tables were anywhere near. Anders had swung freely in the middle of the room like a macabre human mobile.

Unused to homicide scenes as he was, Patrik cautiously moved in a wide circle around the body. Anders’s eyes were open, staring rigidly into space. Patrik couldn’t help leaning forward and closing the dead man’s eyes. He knew that he shouldn’t have any sort of contact with the body before the M.E. arrived-actually the body shouldn’t even have been cut down-but something in those staring eyes set all his nerves on edge. It felt as though the eyes were following him round the room.

The room seemed unusually desolate. Then he noticed that all the paintings had been taken down from the walls. Only big ugly marks were left where the paintings had once hung. Otherwise the room was just as shabby as he remembered it from the last time he was here, but then the paintings had somehow lighted up the room. They had given Anders’s home a certain air of decadence by combining filth with beauty. Now the place just looked dirty and disgusting.

Lena was talking non-stop on her mobile. After one conversation in which Patrik only heard her swearing in single syllables, she slapped shut the lid of her little Ericsson phone and turned to him.

‘We’re getting reinforcements from Forensic Medicine for crime scene investigation. They’re leaving Göteborg now. We can’t touch anything. I suggest we wait outside for safety’s sake.’

They went out on the landing and Lena carefully closed and locked the door. The cold was piercing when they stepped outside the main door; Lena and Patrik stamped their feet in place.

‘Where’s Janne right now?’ Patrik was asking about Lena’s partner, who should have been with her in the car.

‘He’s TCC’ing today.’

‘TCC’ing?’ Patrik looked quizzical.

‘Taking care of a sick child. TCC. Thanks to all the cutbacks there was nobody who could step in on short notice, so I had to come alone when we got the call.’

Patrik nodded, not really paying attention. He was inclined to side with Lena. There was a lot to suggest that it was one and the same killer they were searching for. Drawing hasty conclusions was definitely one of the riskiest things a cop could do, but the odds of there being two different murderers in this little town were infinitesimally low. Add to that the fact that there were strong connections between the two victims and the odds were even lower.

Lena and Patrik knew that the trip from Göteborg would take at least an hour and a half, maybe two, so they sat in his car and turned on the heat. They also turned on the radio, and for a long time they sat listening to happy-go-lucky pop music. It was a welcome distraction from the reason for their long wait. After an hour and forty minutes they saw two police cars drive into the car park, and they got out to meet their reinforcements.

‘Please, Jan, can’t we get our own house? I saw that one of the houses at Badholmen is for sale. Couldn’t we drive down and take a look at it? It has the most fantastic view, and there’s a little boathouse too. Please?’

Lisa’s whining voice made his sense of irritation grow. Her voice almost always did these days. Being married to her would be a lot more pleasant if she had the sense to shut up and just look pretty. Lately not even her big, firm breasts and round arse had managed to convince him that she was worth all the trouble. Her babbling had only accelerated, and in moments like this he bitterly regretted giving in to her nagging about getting married.

Lisa was working as a waitress at Röde Orm in Grebbestad when he first laid eyes on her. All his friends had practically drooled when they saw her plunging neckline and long legs, and he decided on the spot that he had to have her. He usually got what he wanted, and Lisa proved to be no exception. He wasn’t bad-looking, but what usually nailed the final decision was when he introduced himself as Jan Lorentz. Mentioning his last name normally brought a gleam to a woman’s eyes, and from then on it was all systems go.

He had been obsessed with Lisa’s body in the beginning. He couldn’t get enough of her, and he effectively closed his ears to all the stupid comments she kept making in her shrill voice. The envious looks from other men when he showed up with Lisa on his arm also increased her attractiveness in his eyes. At first her little hints that he should make an honest woman out of her fell on deaf ears. To be quite frank, her stupidity had begun to chip away at her appeal. But what finally clinched his decision to make her his wife was Nelly’s vehement opposition to the whole idea. She loathed Lisa from the first moment she saw her and never missed an opportunity to make her views known. A childish wish to rebel had put Jan in his present predicament, and he cursed his own stupidity.

Lisa was pouting as she lay on her stomach on their big double bed. She was naked and doing her best to look seductive, but he was no longer interested. He knew that she was waiting for an answer.

‘You know we can’t move away from Mamma. She isn’t well, and she could never take care of this big house by herself.’