Take heart and stop telling yourselves that hell is the other guy
Take heart and stop telling yourselves that hell is the other guy. It's all Sodom!
The fire at the Hornsberget orphanage ended hopes that the hell in Stockholm was over, and the guardians of the remnants of its sanity had come out of the worst. On the contrary. The "City of Bridges" is simply the Sodom of the North, so the dastardly libertine - and at times even a useful idiot - Tycho Ceton is already preparing a feast for the local confessors, the cruelty of which would make the Marquis de Sade blanch. But the knitter is not safe even in the sheep's clothing. He's being hunted by vigilantes who wondered if he was on the shovel: the inveterate lame-ass Mickell Cardell, who has butter on his own head, and Emil Winge, not just the brilliant minds of the fledgling police force, but also a spider, with one more wheel. While they chase the devil in a labyrinth of terror, somewhere off to the side, poor Anna Stina is missing. She has tragically lost her toddlers and is uncertain of her life because she is the only person outside the circle of conspirators who knows a secret that would properly ventilate the conditions in the decaying empire of Gustav IV. Adolf. The dice are therefore thrown on a dunghill, the bottom of which perhaps has no end. And the "hounds" must have even rougher tricks in reserve to reveal who is really pulling the strings.
The chess and charades of the haughty elites escalate in the final part of a noir trilogy in which regency Sweden of the late 18th century is only reluctantly emerging from the moral morass of autocracy.