And it is true, in a way. As Lönnrot moves, each camera is turning to look elsewhere. The Inspector knows with a disembodied, eerie certainty that if she looked at the screens upstairs, right now, she would see a babble of confusion and consternation, and that confusion would appear to be the perfect map of what is happening down here—but it would be missing, in perfect synchrony with Lönnrot’s movements, the image of the one person she really needs it to see.