Dark Angel (Anders Knutas 6)

head office back in Stockholm. This time both were harshly reprimanded, primarily for choosing to publicize the information about Viktor’s mistress. It didn’t help that the neighbour’s speculation about Algård’s dalliances had been confirmed by his employees.
    Several managing editors also found it appalling that Regional News had revealed the victim’s identity only twenty-four hours after he was found murdered. Johan defended his decision by saying that there was enormous interest in the case on Gotland, since Algård was so well known on the island. Besides, they had checked with the police to make sure that all family members had been informed about the death.
    Johan, together with Pia and their boss Max Grenfors, had thought the information sufficiently relevant to make it public, given that this was a high-profile homicide. It might also provide an important clue to the motive.
    Even though Johan defended himself fiercely and certainly presented a convincing argument, doubt was gnawing at him as he drove home to Roma in the dark.
    He hoped to find Emma still awake. What he needed right now was a glass of wine and a chance to talk.
    And Emma. He was longing for her. He was always longing for her. Finally they were able to be together, all the time. They could fall asleep together every night, and wake up together every morning.
    Their relationship had definitely had its ups and downs since they’d met five years ago. Back then, Emma was married to Olle, she had two children in primary school, and she was living a quiet life with her family in Roma.
    Then she met Johan. He happened to interview her in connection with a murder case, and they instantly fell in love. Eventually she divorced Olle and gave birth to Johan’s child. Their relationship had been stormy ever since. Against all odds, they had decided to get married during the previous summer. Johan had begun to doubt that they’d ever become husband and wife, when Emma had suddenly accepted his marriage proposal. On the day of the wedding, she kept him nervously waiting outside the church. Fårö Church was filled with guests, the time for the wedding came and went, and the pastor was wringing her hands. Johan’s best man, Andreas, started looking worried, while all the groom wanted to do was run away. Half an hour late, Emma and her maid of honour had finally appeared, both of them out of breath. They’d had a flat tyre and had left their mobiles at home.
    For the past six months they’d led a normal family life with their three-year-old daughter Elin. Every other week the family expanded when Sara and Filip, Emma’s children from her first marriage, now eleven and ten, came to stay. Johan had moved into Emma’s house in Roma and sublet his flat in the Södermalm district of Stockholm.
    His routine of buying fast food at the local 7-Eleven had now been replaced by major shopping expeditions at Willy’s supermarket. Takeaway pizza had been replaced by home-cooked meals served at specific times of the day. He’d become an expert at making sausage stroganoff, mincemeat sauce and pancakes. Instead of sleeping late on the weekend, he now got up to fix porridge for the kids in the kitchen. The days were filled with playing with the doll’s house and plastic cars , watching children’s programmes on TV, Parcheesi, football and sledding.
    Instead of spending late nights at the pub, Johan would fall asleep by ten o’clock in front of the TV, with Emma leaning on his shoulder and sometimes one or two of the kids on his lap. His job didn’t claim all his attention the way it used to do. Sometimes in the middle of editing a story he’d find himself suddenly wondering what Elin was doing at the day-care centre. And an interview that unexpectedly ran late could make him start to fret because he’d promised to take the children swimming or to football practice, or he was supposed to attend a parents’ meeting at school. Previously he’d been the type of person who more or less lived for his job, endlessly on his computer or discussing work with colleagues. But now he was always in a rush to get home. His family was waiting for him. They needed him. And he loved that.
    It was dark by the time he parked outside the house, but there were lights on in all the windows. Emma was awake.
    ‘Hello,’ he called as he went in, pushing aside ten pairs of shoes and some little rubber boots decorated with flowers.
    ‘Hi,’ he heard her reply from the