It was inexplicable that he had been capable of such a mistake, but they looked so similar. Two women walk out of a house. One to live, one to die. He had made one tiny error on the way, a miserable little second of carelessness and all the preparations had been in vain. He realized his mistake when he saw her curly head of hair turning up once again in the window of the health center, which he could see from the parking area. She was holding Anders Ahlström, kissing him; then left the building. He followed the wandering dot on his monitor. Was she on her way back to her home address? If he only had her name, address, and social security number: then he could examine her life on the computer screen.