“I’ll try to answer your questions as best I can if you’ll answer mine first. Does that sound okay?”
He nodded, likely realizing that he didn’t have much choice.
“So,” Siri said. “Yesterday.”
“It was a normal Friday, I guess.”
“And what does that entail?”
“School during the day. Party at night. That’s about it. I also went to a friend’s house, in between.”
“And who’s that friend?”
“Killian, is his name. With aK—Killian Persson.”
Siri took this down.
“Thanks. And Mikael Söderström,” she said, more slowly. “Is that a name you’re familiar with?”
When Sander finally spoke, it was as though he were standing on a frozen lake, scared he might fall through the ice.
“Is he the one who died?”
“Do you know each other?”
“We’re in the same class, and he lives pretty close by. I’ve known Mikael forever…not super well, I guess, but since we’re both from here, you know…We went to the same school, had the same friends, we played soccer together when we were little.”
“In Oskarström?”
“No, Sennan. You don’t play in Oskarström if you come from Skavböke.”
“He’s your same age, eighteen?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Who would you say Mikael’s friends are?”
He thought for a moment, or appeared to be thinking.
“I mean, like, everyone. I don’t know.”
“Who does he spend a lot of time with?”
“Oh, some of the guys who were at the party, of course. So, Jakob Lindell. Pierre too. Pierre Bäck. The party was at his house.”
“Pierre’s house?”
Sander nodded.
“And you saw Mikael there last night?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Did you go there together?”
“I went with Killian. Mikael was already there when we arrived, I think. Yeah, he was, because I saw his coat in the hall when we came in. Filip too. Filip is Mikael’s little brother.”
“How old is Filip?”
