Dark Angel (Anders Knutas 6)

started to suspect that he had fallen in love. This could be of great importance to the investigation. Think carefully. Did you notice any change in his behaviour? Some small sign that might indicate he was having an affair?’
    ‘No, nothing. I didn’t notice anything like that.’
    ‘Did you ever spend the night in Viktor’s flat in Visby?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘When was the last time you were there?’
    ‘Good Lord, it must be at least a year ago. I’ve never had any reason to go there.’
    ‘So you didn’t keep any personal belongings in the flat? Clothing or toiletries?’
    ‘No.’ Elisabeth turned around and gave the officers a resigned look. ‘Is that what you found there? In Viktor’s flat?’
    Knutas had no option but to nod.

YET ANOTHER NIGHT when Johan had slept very poorly. Elin woke up at least ten times, coughing so hard that it sounded as if her lungs would burst. He’d phoned both the doctor on call and the paediatric hotline, but both times he was advised to remain calm, give the child some cough syrup and keep an eye on her. How typical, he thought with annoyance.
Just because they don’t want to use any of their sodding resources to make a house call
. He deeply regretted that he and Emma had decided not to vaccinate their daughter against whooping cough, but they had both judged the vaccine to be too new and unproven.
    Around 4 a.m. Elin finally fell asleep, and she was still sleeping soundly when he got up. Emma would stay home with Elin as long as necessary. Johan had taken care of their daughter the previous week, but now he was swamped with work because of the Algård murder case. Besides, Emma was feeling generally worn out, so she candidly admitted that she was more than happy to stay home from work. She was a primary school teacher at the small Kyrk School in Roma. Right now the pupils were bubbling over with spring fever, which made them even more rambunctious than usual.
    Luckily, Johan and Pia had agreed that he didn’t need to drive into town to the editorial office. She was going to pick him up in Roma on her way south. As expected, the murder in the conference centre had prompted big headlines in the local morning papers. It was front-page news, with other related stories inside as well. None of the papers mentioned the victim’s name, merely speaking of ‘a well-known individual in Visby’s hospitality industry ’. When Johan carefully read through all the articles about the murder, he happened to notice a brief story in
Gotlands Allehanda
. It was about the case of the sixteen-year-old boy who had been assaulted. Shit. He’d completely forgotten about that because of everything that had happened yesterday. The boy’s condition was still serious. I need to remember to check up on the case sometime today, he told himself.
    Pia turned up at nine o’clock sharp, as agreed, and then they headed south.
    ‘I think we should start with Birgitta Österman. She’s the one who usually takes care of the Algårds’ dogs.’
    ‘Do you think she’ll talk to us?’
    ‘I’ve already phoned her,’ said Pia with a grin.
    ‘Of course you have. I should have guessed.’
    The farm they were headed for was located a short distance before the road ended at the Algård farm and on the opposite side. The farmhouse was an impressive limestone building with barns forming separate wings on either side and a horse pasture where a colt was restlessly trotting back and forth. The front door opened even before they could get out of the car. Birgitta Österman was a stout woman in her sixties. She gave them a friendly smile when they introduced themselves and then invited them in, but they politely declined the obligatory offer of coffee. Instead, they all sat down outside in the comfortable patio chairs. The yard was warm with sunshine and there was no wind.
    ‘What do you think about the news of the murder?’
    ‘Well, I was certainly shocked.’ Birgitta Österman shook her head. ‘Even though it happened up north in Visby, it still feels so close, since he was a neighbour and all.’
    ‘What was Viktor like?’
    ‘To be honest, I really couldn’t stand the man. There was something fishy about him. I could never figure him out. He was perfectly nice as a neighbour, but he always seemed wound up somehow, as if he could never relax. I always had the feeling he was hiding something, but I don’t know why. That’s just how he seemed. He was that way from the very beginning.’ She