B0031RSBSM EBOK

committed suicide? That seemed highly unlikely. She was so full of life, or at least that was the image she presented. Had she been the victim of an accident? She was apparently drunk. Maybe she had simply fallen into the water. So far they had only searched on land. Maybe it was that simple.
    Knutas decided to bring in divers on the following day if Martina hadn’t turned up.

 
    In the car on their way back, Jacobsson was full of enthusiasm.
    “Just think how fantastic that is, all the things they’ve found. It’s unbelievable. I was allowed to hold an amber charm from the tenth century. Can you imagine that? In my next life I’m going to be an archaeologist, no doubt about it.”
    “At one point I thought we were going to spend all day there,” muttered Knutas. “My stomach is completely empty. Don’t you ever need to eat?”
    “Don’t be so grumpy. I thought it was incredibly interesting. We’ll pick up some food along the way. What do you think about Mellgren and his relationship with Martina?”
    “He seems sincere. I don’t think he’d get himself mixed up with one of the participants in the course. It’s not just his marriage that would be at stake, if you can use the word ‘just.’ He’d be risking his whole professional career.”
    “Maybe he’s tired of his job,” said Jacobsson matter-of-factly. “Maybe it’s a form of self-destructive behavior, although it could also be unconscious. Maybe deep inside he wishes that the whole thing would go to hell.”
    “Another possibility is that he’s fallen head over heels in love,” suggested Knutas, who had a more romantic outlook than his colleague.
    “Sure,” she said, smiling, “but the one doesn’t have to exclude the other.”
    Back at police headquarters they were stopped by Lars Norrby.
    “I’ve talked to a witness who had something interesting to say.”
    “Let’s take it in my office,” said Knutas.
    They sat down on the little sofa group that stood over by the wall.
    “It was a man who called. One day he was biking along the road toward the Warfsholm hotel. He was actually going over there to have dinner. Apparently that’s what he does every Monday, and this happened to be a Monday. Suddenly he caught sight of Martina walking along the road. He described her in great detail. He seemed positive that he had seen her.”
    “And?” Knutas sounded impatient.
    “She was walking away from the hotel, along the edge of the road. The man said that he thought it was the left side of the road, but he wasn’t positive. She was wearing a blue skirt; he remembered that quite clearly, but he couldn’t remember what kind of top she wore at all.”
    “Get to the point,” barked Knutas.
    His colleague’s long-windedness and tendency to report unnecessary details could drive Knutas crazy. Norrby glared at him, looking insulted.
    “Well. In any case, she got into a car that was parked right at the entrance to the mini-golf course.”
    “How can he be so sure that it was Martina he saw?”
    “Apparently her archaeology colleagues have been going around showing people pictures of her. Or maybe it was just one picture.”
    “I see. So they’re doing their own investigative work?”
    “Exactly, and it has actually produced results.”
    “Did he see who was sitting in the car?” asked Jacobsson.
    “He thinks it was a man about thirty-five or forty. Maybe older. He was wearing dark glasses, so it wasn’t easy to tell. He wasn’t sure about the man’s hair, but he didn’t think it was blond. Closer to brown.”
    “When did this happen?”
    “A week ago. Last Monday, around five or five thirty.”
    “Martina has been missing for three days. No longer than that,” interjected Jacobsson.
    “Yes, but this could still be of interest,” Norrby protested. “Obviously someone was waiting by the side of the road for her.”
    “And we might ask ourselves why he didn’t drive up to the hotel parking lot. Clearly he didn’t want to be seen,” said Knutas.
    “It seems that she has some sort of secret relationship,” said Jacobsson, “and it wouldn’t take much to conclude that he had something to do with her disappearance. Whether she went with him voluntarily or not.”
    “It couldn’t very well be voluntary,” Norrby objected. “Otherwise why hasn’t she called?”
    “Everyone is speculating that she’s been kidnapped,” Knutas said. “We can only hope that nothing worse has happened to her. What kind of car