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The word made his heart almost break.

I’ve missed more in these past years than you could ever imagine, he thought as he hung up.

But in the warm bubble of the car he was missing nothing and no one.

‘You’re at a crossroads and have to decide which way to go,’ his father said, when he moved from Lund all those years ago. ‘I can’t really make out what it looks like from where you’re standing and you don’t seem to want to tell me, but there’s one thing I want you to know – the day you need somebody to talk to, I’m here to listen.’

A whole lifetime had gone by since Spencer rebuffed his father, and he had still to discover the full extent of the damage it had done.

I was greedy, he admitted to himself. I wanted everything and my reward was less than half. Because I deserved no more.

At one point in the slow hours of the drive, his thoughts went to Fredrika Bergman. She pretended she did not like him opening the car door for her, though it was a damn lie that she would accept anything else. What would everyday life with her be like? Did they really want to become fixtures in each other’s lives, or would they discover what so many other people in their situation do when they finally get the chance to move in together? That living with each other was only an attractive proposition as long as it remained unattainable? People were good at fooling themselves that way. They never missed what they already had, which meant they didn’t appreciate it, either.

Spencer felt slightly nervous at the thought. Maybe Fredrika, being so honest, would declare that she didn’t want him near her in the way he was now planning.

What the devil will I do then? Spencer wondered listlessly. Where the hell do I go then?

Perhaps it was the weight of all his brooding that made him careless, and he lost control of the car. It took him a few seconds to realise it had lost traction on the snowy, icy road surface, and the skid took him onto the other side of the carriageway. A moment later, the crunching shriek of colliding vehicles resounded along the forest road beneath a black night sky from which the snow just kept on falling. Witnesses saw them meet, buckle and be thrown off the road, where they crashed into the hard trunks of trees that had been standing along the roadside for many, many years.

Then came silence.

When it got to six o’clock, Fredrika went to the staff room to heat up a pie. Alex came in after her and it struck her that he seemed reluctant to go home.

‘We can’t get hold of Johanna Ahlbin,’ he complained exasperatedly.

‘Not even on that new mobile number she gave us?’

‘No.’

The microwave pinged and Fredrika took out her dinner.

‘Might be just as well to send a radio car to her flat to check everything’s okay,’ suggested Fredrika.

‘I’d already thought of that,’ said Alex. ‘They just reported back that there was no answer when they rang the doorbell and the place seemed to be in darkness. They rang at a few neighbours’ doors, but no one had seen or heard anything.’

Alex took a seat opposite Fredrika as she sat down to eat.

‘Why wouldn’t Sven Ljung give us the names of the other people in the Vinterman circle?’ he said, thinking aloud.

Fredrika chewed and swallowed. The pie had gone rubbery in the microwave and tasted disgusting.

‘Either because he’s scared, or for reasons of personal loyalty.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ said Alex. ‘It could easily be that he’s trying to protect someone, and hasn’t been scared into keeping his mouth shut at all.’

‘His son Viggo, for example,’ said Fredrika. ‘A father shielding his son, that’s pretty classic.’

Alex nodded, his head seeming heavy.

‘Quite right,’ he said. ‘You know, I talked to that Viggo and he didn’t breathe a word about being the Ljungs’ son or growing up virtually next door to Jakob and Marja Ahlbin and playing with their daughters. He even claimed he’d never met them.’

Fredrika quietly set down her knife and fork.

‘We definitely know Karolina “played” a great deal with their son Måns,’ she began.

‘Yes?’ said Alex.

‘Do we know how much the girls had to do with Viggo?’

Alex was slow to answer.

‘Not sure,’ he eventually responded. ‘I don’t think technical has managed to get through his phone lists today; they didn’t come in until later.’

Another bit of pie was forced down Fredrika’s throat.

‘I think we’re going to find something there,’ she said. ‘I reckon this whole thing is a lot better thought through and structured than we can see as yet. I checked when Viggo changed his surname, for example, and he did it the year he went to police training college.’

‘Good grief,’ exclaimed Alex. ‘Could he have been in on it from the word go, when they started taking money for hiding illegal migrants in 2004?’

‘Of course he could,’ said Fredrika. ‘And to avoid attracting attention if his father got caught, he made sure to keep his distance from the family by changing his name.’

‘Which clearly worked pretty well,’ Alex muttered.

‘Not at all,’ Fredrika contradicted him. “We’re sitting here now, knowing it failed.’

Alex gave a lopsided smile.

‘But we couldn’t be any further from arresting the damned man if we tried.’

‘Can we put surveillance on him?’

Her boss’s smile grew broader.

‘They’ve been on him for the past hour,’ he said. ‘He’s sitting tight in his flat, apparently.’

‘Awaiting instructions, perhaps?’

‘Could well be,’ Alex agreed.

He answered after the second ring.

‘I’m setting off now,’ she said.

‘Okay. You want me to come with you?’

She went quiet.

‘Not yet,’ she said eventually, but with such hesitation in her voice that he knew straight away he wouldn’t be able to stop himself going after her.

He felt frightened for her, the way he always did when she was reckless.

‘It could be dangerous,’ he said.

‘I know that,’ she said in the same muted tone.

‘Take care of yourself.’

‘Always.’

They lapsed into silence and the stress of it all made him grind his teeth. He had to ask.

‘Did you go round to Mum’s?’

He heard her stop in mid-step.

‘Yes.’

‘And?’

Another pause.

‘She wasn’t in.’

‘Damn. So she’s one step ahead after all…’

She interrupted him, and said firmly:

‘We’ll just have to hope for the best.’

‘And prepare for the worst,’ he finished.

He sat looking out of the window for a long time after she rang off. His jaws were clenched as he came to his decision. He was much better equipped for physical combat than she could ever be, that was what made them such a successful team. She was the strategist, drawing up the guidelines for their work, while he made sure any problems that arose were dealt with and got out of the way. Time after time.

He took the decision on pure impulse. He was not just going to stay in his flat while the one he loved fought for her life in the theatre of war, where she had suffered such injury all that time ago and learned to view every stranger with the greatest caution and suspicion.

Fredrika was just putting things away and finishing for the day when the call came through from the switchboard. An Elsie Ljung was down at reception looking for her. She was very agitated and said it was urgent.

Fredrika had decided that it really was time to go home and devote some time to herself and her unborn child. She had started feeling that something was not quite right when she and Alex were chatting in the staff room. The baby seemed to be keeping still in a new way, as if summoning up the strength for something imminent.

‘You’re not thinking of coming out now, are you?’ she murmured to herself.

But her uneasiness about the baby was still overshadowed by her worry at not being able to reach Spencer. The phone just rang unanswered whenever she tried. The exhaustion in her body and mind were inhibiting her efforts to come up with a logical explanation. He had been so terribly secretive before he left, not like himself at all.