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intensity. The tissues Thomas had given her were reduced to a pile of shreds. One by one they drifted onto the floor by the leg of her chair. It looked like something a baby bird might have left behind.
    “He drank a bit. I mean, he worked at Systemet, so it wasn’t difficult for him to bring home whatever he wanted. Besides, he didn’t have much in the way of hobbies, or friends for that matter. He was perfectly happy in his own company, as long as he had something to drink and a decent show on TV.”
    Thomas scratched the back of his neck and gave the matter some thought. If Krister had been drunk, he might have gone outside for a breath of fresh air and tumbled into the water. That kind of thing happened far more often than people thought, but understandably the ferry companies preferred to keep it quiet.
    “Is there any reason to think he could have jumped overboard? Deliberately taken his own life?” He thought about the rope looped around the body and gazed at Kicki. His words lingered in the air. It wasn’t an easy question, but it had to be asked. If her cousin had been suicidal, it could explain a number of things.
    Kicki Berggren opened her mouth to say something, but she changed her mind and slumped down in her seat. Her mascara had run; she took another tissue from the box and wiped her eyes as best she could.
    Thomas looked at her. “Was there something you wanted to say?”
    “His mother died in February. He took it really bad. Even though he wasn’t prepared to visit her very often when she was ill, he was really upset afterward. He started drinking big-time.”
    “To the extent that perhaps he no longer wanted to live?”
    Kicki lowered her eyes. “I find it difficult to believe that he would jump off a ferry. He’s never talked about killing himself, in spite of the fact that he thought he’d had a lot of bad luck in his life. He used to say he’d never had a fair chance.”
    Her eyes filled with tears once more, and she shredded yet another tissue.
    Thomas felt sorry for her; it was evident that she’d had no idea why he’d wanted to speak to her. “It could have been an accident, of course. I just wanted to know whether you thought he might have been suicidal. It’s by no means certain that he killed himself. It might well have been an unfortunate combination of alcohol and circumstance.”
    Thomas ended the conversation by asking Kicki to call him if she thought of anything she wanted him to know. When she had gone, he made notes on the interview and placed a printout in the file.
     
    Kicki walked out of the building with her head spinning. She had been so angry with Krister, but now she understood. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell the detective why they hadn’t been in touch for the last few months. She just couldn’t tell him about the argument they’d had the last time they’d met. She was so ashamed of her outburst that she didn’t know what to do with herself. Her harsh words had been Krister’s last memory of her. Why had things turned out this way?
    She stopped and took her cigarettes out of her purse. At last. As the nicotine spread through her body she began to wonder if there might be a connection in spite of everything. Had Krister decided to act on her idea after all? Without saying anything to her?
    But surely that couldn’t be possible. He would never have dared to do something like that alone, especially not while she was still away. Or would he?
    She took another drag on the much-needed cigarette.
    He must have gone on a weekend trip to Helsinki and had too much to drink. She could just picture him. Too many cheap drinks at the bar, his face growing more and more flushed as the evening went on. No doubt he had staggered out on deck to get some fresh air, drunk and overheated, and had lost his balance, just as Thomas Andreasson had said.
    A pure accident.
    Kicki’s eyes filled with tears once more.
    Poor Krister. A messy life, a messy death.
    Just