The Double Silence (17 page)

‘It’s fantastic, glorious, just amazing,’ he said emphatically. ‘I love it. I couldn’t ask for anything better. I can’t even describe how wonderful it is to be a father.’

‘And how’s the baby? What’s the little one’s name? Is it a boy or a girl?’

‘A boy. Anton. He’ll be seven months soon.’

‘Ah. How sweet.’

Pia put down the phone and turned towards Johan.

‘Did you know that somebody has gone missing from the group that Sam Dahlberg belonged to?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Some friends went on holiday together – first to the Bergman festival on Fårö, and then on to Stora Karlsö. All of them live in Terra Nova, and it seems to be a really tight crowd. Just before you arrived, I talked to one of my brother’s friends who works on the Fårö ferry. He told me that the police have made several trips over there this week, and yesterday they went up to Kuten and the inn where the whole group of friends had stayed, the Slow Train. They were asking about Stina Ek, who was also part of the gang. And now she’s gone missing.’

‘Missing?’ Johan foolishly repeated, but at the same time he felt the familiar churning inside his stomach.

‘Apparently she disappeared on Fårö. On Saturday afternoon. She took off on a bicycle, and nobody has seen her since.’

‘Oh shit. What if she was murdered too?’

‘Or maybe she’s actually the killer,’ Madeleine interjected. ‘You never know.’

‘So what are you doing now?’

Pia glanced at her watch.

‘It’s eleven ten. If we leave now, we can catch the twelve o’clock ferry.’ She began gathering up her equipment.

‘Have you got an interview lined up?’

‘Yup. The guy who owns Kuten is willing to talk to us, and there won’t be any problem finding someone to interview on the ferry. Then we’ll talk to folks at the scene, of course. You know how it’s done.’ She smiled broadly. Pia was a wizard at getting people to open up, and she knew it.

‘What about the police?’

‘We’ll catch them later. On the way back.’

‘Can I help with anything? I could stay here and hold the fort. Emma is home with the kids, so it’s no problem. Or do we have any extra cameras here? If so, I could go over to police headquarters and do an interview. I can stay and edit it too, so all you’ll have to do is insert it in the story later on.’

While he was talking, Madeleine and Pia had finished packing up their gear, and now they were headed for the door.

‘Thanks for the offer,’ said Pia, ‘but isn’t that overdoing it a little? We’ll manage on our own. Gotta go now. See you later!’

And before he could say another word, they were gone.

The fresh cinnamon coffee cake was still in the bag on the table.

THE CHIEF RANGER
, who had discovered the items in the woods, had been sensible enough not to touch them, and instead waited for the police to arrive. He had asked one of his colleagues to stop anyone from approaching the site. When Knutas and Jacobsson, accompanied by Thomas Wittberg, disembarked from the boat at Stora Karlsö, the chief ranger was waiting for them on the dock. They went at once to the discovery site, which was a little less than a kilometre from the lighthouse, but in an area that was off-limits during the summer. For that reason, it was a good place for someone to spend the night undisturbed.

‘We can’t possibly keep track of everyone who comes over here on the day boats,’ the chief ranger told them as they made their way through the brush-covered terrain. ‘A lot of people pay cash for a ticket at the ferry terminal in Klintehamn. They come over to spend a few hours here and then go back home. It’s impossible to know when people arrive or depart. There are also those who spend the night, and we have a little more contact with them, or at least some of them. But not everyone, by any means. Ten thousand people come through here in the summertime, so I can’t remember all of them.’

‘When did you discover these things?’ asked Knutas, who was panting in the heat. He noticed to his dismay that he wasn’t in as good physical condition as he used to be. He’d been lazy about working out lately.

‘I was out taking a morning walk and thought I’d go over to the most distant bird mountain to try and find out how many baby birds still haven’t left. So I took a short cut through that area; it takes half the time,
compared to following the road. The first thing I saw was something pink fluttering from a bush. That’s what made me go down into the clearing. I never would have done it otherwise. I don’t like to disturb the wildlife here unless it’s really necessary.’

Knutas raised his eyebrows.

‘Something pink?’

‘Yes. It turned out to be a hair ribbon. The old-fashioned kind that little girls used to wear when I was at school. Very wide and sort of silky. You’ll see for yourselves. I left it where it was. I didn’t touch anything,’ he added with a trace of pride in his voice.

Smart dude, thought Jacobsson crossly. You’ve probably watched crime shows on TV, even though you don’t seem like the type. She was already annoyed by the chief ranger’s pedantic attitude. He was close to her own age, but he acted like an old man.

They turned off on to a smaller path that headed down towards the sea. The ground was dry and covered with stones. They had to hunch over so as not to run into the dense network of tree branches. Soon a clearing opened before them, with soft grass surrounded by protective thickets. A perfect hiding place.

The next moment they caught sight of the ribbon. It was hanging on a thorny bush. Jacobsson gave a start. She’d seen photos of the missing Stina Ek, and she recalled seeing the woman wearing a similar ribbon in her hair.

‘There it is,’ said the chief ranger, pointing.

Silently they all stopped next to the bush to study the ribbon. It looked out of place in this remote natural setting. And somehow ominous. Are we going to find her now? Jacobsson asked herself. Is she dead or alive?

The chief ranger continued on through the trees.

‘Look over there. In that crevice.’

And there it was: a light blue sleeping bag. Jacobsson felt her mouth go dry. This could very well be the murderer’s hiding place. Instinctively she glanced around, as if the perpetrator might be lurking in the thickets. But all she saw was a water bottle lying in the grass. Knutas ordered everyone back.

‘Not another step closer. We need to cordon off the area.’

Wittberg immediately began putting up police tape.

Everyone felt a spark of hope. Finally they had a lead.

But what does that pink ribbon mean? thought Jacobsson. Then the same question that had been bugging her lately popped up again. Stina Ek: was she a victim or the perpetrator?

She turned around and let her gaze sweep over the scene. It was a perfect hiding place, well protected from the wind and any prying eyes.

‘If these things belong to the killer, why didn’t he take them with him? He should have been terrified about leaving any evidence behind.’

‘Maybe something unexpected happened. If the murder was not premeditated, it’s not so strange that he would be panic-stricken and decide to leave in a hurry. But where the hell did that ribbon come from?’

Knutas leaned forward to study the gleaming strip of fabric. ‘Very strange. Almost as if it were a signal, asking to be noticed.’

‘Or else it got caught there by mistake,’ said Jacobsson. ‘I mean if the murderer is a woman who wore a ribbon in her hair. Or maybe Stina was here, along with the killer.’

She looked out at the sea. Where on earth was Stina Ek?

ON THE SURFACE
everything looked the same as usual in the residential area of Terra Nova. But inside Håkan Ek’s home, everything had changed. His parents were looking after his daughters for a few days, while he went around like a zombie, unable to sleep or eat. Beata and John refused to leave him for long; at the moment they were sitting on the terrace. Andrea was there too. It was as if they were seeking solace from each other. Håkan had poured strong mojitos for all of them. The alcohol helped – at least for the first few drinks.

‘The police came over to our place today. I’ve stopped counting how many times they’ve come to see us,’ sighed Beata. ‘I don’t know what they’re looking for any more. They ask the same questions, over and over.’

‘Well, what else can they do?’ said John. ‘If this was the United States, we’d all be sitting in jail.’

‘There are probably some people who think that’s where we belong,’ said Andrea tonelessly.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Beata.

Andrea shrugged. She took a big gulp of her drink and lit a cigarette.

‘I don’t know. But I bet some people think one of us is the murderer.’

‘You mean because people have been avoiding us? They probably just don’t know what to say,’ replied Håkan. ‘I feel that way myself.’

‘I think the majority opinion is the exact opposite,’ said Beata. ‘People have been talking to me, at any rate, but I suppose it’s not as sensitive an issue with me. I ran into Eva-Britt and Göran today. They hinted that
there are rumours going around that Stina was the one who pushed Sam. And that’s why she’s staying away.’

‘Are they crazy?’ raged Håkan. ‘They think Stina would …? How can they possibly accuse her of something like that?’

Beata gave Håkan a searching look.

‘You shouldn’t think that everybody regards Stina as the sweetheart you think she is. Stina can actually be quite snobbish. And a lot of people think she’s been acting strangely lately. She has really retreated, not wanting to go for walks any more and turning down invitations to have dinner with the girls. She usually goes grocery shopping with Andrea, but she has stopped doing that too. Right?’ She turned to Andrea for support.

‘Yes, but there might be some other reason for that,’ said Andrea wearily. She was leaning back in her chair. Now she rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes. ‘Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Håkan,’ she said suddenly.

‘What’s that?’ Håkan’s tone was aggressive, and he kept taking sips of his drink.

‘I’ve also noticed that Stina has changed. Quite drastically, as a matter of fact. How have things been between the two of you?’

‘What do you mean?’

Andrea opened her eyes and looked at him.

‘You always used to be so affectionate with each other. Really paying attention to each other. Holding hands and hugging. But I don’t recall you doing that sort of thing lately.’

‘In the past, Stina was always sitting on your lap,’ Beata added. ‘I haven’t seen her do that for at least a year.’

Håkan spat out his words. ‘There’s nothing wrong in our marriage. Things are great between Stina and me. Of course we have our ups and downs, just like everybody else. That’s how it goes when you’ve been together for a long time – you both know that as well as I do. And Stina and I have been faithful to each other, not sleeping with anyone else – unlike certain other people!’

The last remark was clearly aimed at Beata and John. It was well known that they had an open relationship when it came to sex.

‘Calm down, damn it,’ snapped John, joining the conversation for the first time. ‘Everyone makes their own choices about how to live. It’s none of your business.’

‘That’s OK as long as you stick to people outside of the immediate circle. And if you’re
discreet
about it. But that’s certainly not something I could ever accuse you of being. I’ve seen how you’ve tried to make a play for Stina. You’ve always been hot for her. We all know that. And I’m not even going to talk about you,’ Håkan screamed at Beata. ‘You’ll open your legs for anybody who’s got balls. It’s disgusting!’ He stood up furiously, downed his drink in one gulp, and stomped off into the house.

The others sat there as if turned to stone, holding their mojitos in their hands.

On the other side of the hedge, where the neighbours were having a dinner party, it was suddenly very, very quiet.

DURING THE AFTERNOON
, the suspicion grew that Stina Ek was behind the murder of Sam Dahlberg. One of the crew members on the ferry thought he recognized her from the photos the police had shown him. He was almost positive that she had taken the Karlsö boat from Klintehamn on the evening before the others arrived on the island. He distinctly remembered that the rest of the group caught the nine-thirty boat on Sunday morning. The famous director Sam Dahlberg was with them, and that fact had not escaped notice. He was a well-known figure on the island.

At the same time that Knutas wanted to devote all his energies to the investigation, he was also struggling with personal problems. For one thing, he was concerned about Karin Jacobsson and her search for her daughter. Karin had been looking so pale lately, and she seemed even thinner than usual. He noticed that she was frequently lost in her own thoughts. He thought she was so lovely, and on a few occasions he had felt an inexplicable tension between them when they happened to be alone together outside of work. There was
something
, which he couldn’t understand or control. But he quickly dismissed the feeling. He’d been in love with Lina for so many years that his feelings for his wife overshadowed everything else that had to do with the opposite sex. It worried him that Karin often haunted his thoughts. That was so unlike him. He had to see to it that he and Lina spent more time together. They needed to find their way back to each other. When he suddenly recalled that she’d mentioned something about taking a trip with a girlfriend at the end of the summer,
he felt an immediate urge to talk to her. They could do something together instead. Just the two of them. Impatiently he tapped in her number on his mobile. She picked up after it rang four rings, sounding just as happy and cheerful as usual. He found that reassuring.

‘Hi. What are you doing?’

‘I’m lying in the sun in the garden, feeling lazy. It’s such beautiful weather.’

Knutas looked out of the window. The summer was turning out to be marvellous after all the rain they’d had earlier in June.

‘Why don’t you come with me and the kids out to the country after we get back from Italy the third week of August?’