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were together all night.”
    “So he can confirm that you were with him all evening and all night?”
    “Sure. I can vouch for him, too.”

THURSDAY, JULY 8
    THE NEXT DAY Martin Kihlgård arrived, accompanied by an NCP colleague. The forensic psychiatrist Agneta Larsvik had been called in to help with interpreting the special circumstances surrounding the murder, in particular the modus operandi.
    When Kihlgård showed up in the corridor of the criminal investigation division, he was greeted with enthusiastic shouts and slaps on the back. The jovial inspector had become very popular in Visby during his previous visits to assist Knutas with homicide investigations. Jacobsson seemed especially delighted to see him.
    “Hey there,” she cried when he appeared in the doorway. She threw herself into his arms and was completely swallowed up by his massive body.
    “Good gracious, what a reception,” he said happily. “How are things out here in the country?”
    “Well, one strange thing after another seems to be happening,” said Jacobsson. “We’re having a meeting in a minute, so you’ll get to hear more about it.”
    “I’ve already heard a lot. Sounds damned nasty.”
    “It really is. Come and say hello to Anders. I think he’s in his office.”
    She took her stout colleague by the arm and escorted him to her boss’s office.
    “Hi, Knutie.” Kihlgård’s face broke into a smile when he caught sight of Knutas sitting at his desk.
    Knutas shook hands with him, keeping a straight face. Martin Kihlgård was the only person who would even consider calling him by that disgusting nickname.
    Kihlgård’s colleague Agneta Larsvik had a gentle and less brusque manner. A tall and slender brunette with her hair pulled back into a knot, she greeted Knutas pleasantly.
    After a little small talk the investigative team gathered to inform the detectives from the NCP about the latest events.
    “Do you need to have to something to eat?” Jacobsson knew what sort of appetite Kihlgård had.
    “Yes, that would be great. Don’t you think?”
    He turned to Larsvik, who looked surprised. She made an attempt to say something but was stopped by Jacobsson.
    “I’ll order sandwiches.”
    “Thank you.”
    With a pleased look on his face, Kihlgård sat down between Lars Norrby and Birger Smittenberg. It didn’t take long before all three were engrossed in a lively discussion about which of the Greek islands was the best vacation destination.
    Someone came in with a platter loaded with open-face shrimp sandwiches, as well as a tray with light beer and Ramlösa mineral water. A moment later chocolate cookies and coffee also appeared on the table. The team wasn’t used to such extravagance. Knutas cast a glance at Jacobsson. She certainly hadn’t spared any expense to make Kihlgård feel welcome.
    He looked at his colleagues. Everyone was talking and laughing with the jovial inspector from the NCP, eager to hear the latest gossip from Stockholm. It was always the same thing. As soon as Kihlgård showed up, the meetings were transformed into some sort of social gathering.
    Knutas loudly cleared his throat to get their attention. He welcomed Martin Kihlgård and Agneta Larsvik.
    Then the team devoted more than an hour to going over what the investigation had produced so far. The interviews from the previous day were reviewed. The most interesting item that had emerged was the news about Staffan Mellgren’s infidelities, as reported by the teacher Aron Bjarke. They agreed that it was a lead that merited investigation.
    When they were almost finished, there was a knock on the door and Erik Sohlman came in. Judging by his expression, he had something interesting to tell them.
    “I have something to add,” he said when Knutas paused.
    “Let’s hear it.”
    “The divers who have been dragging the bay near Warfsholm have found a ring that belonged to Martina.”
    “Where?”
    “In the water near the youth hostel, on the sea floor near the reeds, meaning in quite shallow water. It’s a big, rather ungainly silver ring with several stones of various colors. We’ve cordoned off the area and are presently looking for more evidence. I have to go back.”
    “Where’s the ring?”
    “In the lab.”
    Knutas leaned back in his chair. “It matches the ME’s theory. That’s where she was drowned. Then the perp stuffed her body in his car and drove out to Vivesholm to complete his work.”
    “Presumably he held her head