Crime stories are, as you know, one of the most popular forms of entertainment that exist. If you then try to have something to say... that I have, of course.

The whole organization seemed to be in free fall, indulging in a collective fantasy in which experienced colleagues refused to admit that their every movement, every decision that was made and implemented, only led them one step closer to the abyss.

Normally seven minutes of another person's company was enough to give her a headache so she set things up to live as a recluse. She was perfectly content as long as people left her in peace. Unfortunately society was not very smart or understanding.

Men who just call to say hello generally have ulterior motives.

Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.

In ordinary detective novels you never see the consequences of what happens in a story in the next book. That you do in mine.

Wennerström was devoting himself to fraud that was so extensive it was no longer merely criminal–it was business.