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href="#litres_trial_promo">Chapter 79

      

       Chapter 80

      

       Chapter 81

      

       Chapter 82

      

       Chapter 83

      

       Chapter 84

      

       Chapter 85

      

       Chapter 86

      

       Chapter 87

      

       Chapter 88

      

       Chapter 89

      

       Chapter 90

      

       Chapter 91

      

       Chapter 92

      

       Chapter 93

      

       Chapter 94

      

       Chapter 95

      

       Chapter 96

      

       Chapter 97

      

       Chapter 98

      

       Chapter 99

      

       Chapter 100

      

       Chapter 101

      

       Chapter 102

      

       Chapter 103

      

       Chapter 104

      

       Chapter 105

      

       Chapter 106

      

       Chapter 107

      

       Chapter 108

      

       Chapter 109

      

       Chapter 110

      

       Chapter 111

      

       Chapter 112

      

       Chapter 113

      

       Chapter 114

      

       Chapter 115

      

       Epilogue

      

       Keep Reading …

      

       About the Author

      

       Also by Lars Kepler

      

       About the Publisher

      It’s early morning, and the still water of the inlet is shimmering like brushed steel. The luxurious villas are asleep, but outdoor lights glint behind tall fences and hedges.

      A drunk man is walking along the road by the shore, a bottle of wine in his hand. He stops in front of a white house whose elongated façade faces the water. Very carefully, he puts the bottle down in the middle of the road, steps across the ditch, and climbs the black metal railing.

      The man weaves his way across the lawn, then stops and sways as he stares at the big windows, the reflections of the patio lights, the indistinct outline of the furniture inside.

      He heads towards the house, waving at a large, porcelain garden gnome, and then stumbles out onto the wooden deck. He manages to hit one knee, but keeps his balance.

      The water of the pool shines like a blue sheet of glass.

      The man stands unsteadily on the edge, unzips his trousers and starts to urinate into the pool, then weaves his way over to the navy-blue garden furniture and proceeds to soak the cushions, chairs and round table.

      Steam rises from his urine in the chill air.

      He zips up his trousers and watches a white rabbit as it hops across the lawn and disappears under a bush.

      Smiling, he walks back towards the house, leaning against the fence. He makes his way down to the lawn, then stops and turns around.

      His befuddled brain tries to make sense of what he just saw.

      A

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