raising his hand for them to stop. At the same time a woman got out of a car parked a few yards away.
All three policemen froze. The central switchboard had reported that two people had been shot, and the man was holding something in his left hand. It took a couple of seconds to be sure that it was a mobile telephone. They got out of their cars at the same time and adjusted their belts. Mårtensson assumed command.
"Are you the one who called about a shooting?"
The man nodded. He seemed badly shaken. He was smoking a cigarette and his hand was trembling when he put it in his mouth.
"What's your name?"
"Mikael Blomkvist. Two people were just shot in this building a very short time ago. Their names are Dag Svensson and Mia Johansson. Three floors up. Their neighbours are standing outside the door."
"Good Lord," the woman said.
"And who are you?" Mårtensson asked Annika.
"Annika Giannini. I'm his sister," she said, pointing at Blomkvist.
"Do you live here?"
"No," Blomkvist said. "I was going to visit the couple who were shot. My sister gave me a ride from a dinner party."
"You say that two people were shot. Did you see what happened?"
"No. I found them."
"Let's go up and have a look," Mårtensson said.
"Wait," Blomkvist said. "According to the neighbours the shots were fired only a minute or so before I arrived. I dialled 112 within a minute of getting here. Since then less than five minutes have passed. That means the person who killed them must still be in the area."
"Do you have a description?"
"We haven't seen anyone, but it's possible that some of the neighbours saw something."
Mårtensson motioned to Magnusson, who raised his radio and talked into it in a low voice. He turned to Blomkvist.
"Can you show us the way?" he said.
When they got inside the front door Blomkvist stopped and pointed to the cellar stairs. Mårtensson bent down and looked at the weapon. He went all the way down the stairs and tried the cellar door. It was locked.
"Ohlsson, stay here and keep an eye on this," Mårtensson said.
Outside the apartment the crowd of neighbours had thinned out. Two had gone back to their own apartments, but the man in the dressing gown was still at his post. He seemed relieved when he saw the uniformed officers.
"I didn't let anyone in," he said.
"That's good," Blomkvist and Mårtensson said together.
"There seem to be bloody tracks on the stairs," Officer Magnusson said.
Everyone looked at the footprints. Blomkvist looked at his Italian loafers.
"Those are probably from my shoes," he said. "I was inside the apartment. There's quite a bit of blood."
Mårtensson gave Blomkvist a searching look. He used a pen to push open the apartment door and found more bloody footprints in the hall.
"To the right. Dag Svensson's in the living room and Mia Johansson's in the bedroom."
Mårtensson did a quick inspection of the apartment and came out after only a few seconds. He radioed to ask for backup from the criminal duty officer. As he finished talking, the ambulance crew arrived. Mårtens son stopped them as they were going in.
"Two victims. As far as I can see, they're beyond help. Can one of you look in without messing up the crime scene?"
It did not take long to confirm. A paramedic decided that the bodies would not be taken to hospital for resuscitation. They were beyond help. Blomkvist suddenly felt sick to his stomach and turned to Mårtensson.
"I'm going outside. I need some air."
"Unfortunately I can't let you go just yet."
"I'll just sit on the porch outside the door."
"May I see your ID, please?"
Blomkvist took out his wallet and put it in Mårtensson's hand. Then he turned without a word and went outside, where Annika was still waiting with Officer Ohlsson. She sat down next to him.
"Micke, what happened?"
"Two people I liked a lot have been murdered. Dag Svensson and Mia Johansson. It was his manuscript I wanted you to read."
Annika realized that this was no time to ply him with questions. Instead she put her arm around her brother's shoulders and hugged him. More police cars arrived. A handful of curious nighttime onlookers had stopped on the pavement across the street. Blomkvist watched them while the police started to set up a cordon. A murder investigation was beginning.
It was past 3:00 a.m. by the time Blomkvist and his sister were allowed to leave the police station. They had spent an hour in Annika's car outside the apartment building in Enskede, waiting for