Dark Angel (Anders Knutas 6)

really, although we already know quite a lot about her,’ said Jacobsson, leafing through her notes. ‘As we found out before, she’s been divorced for many years. Her ex-husband died in a car accident twenty years ago. They were already divorced by then. She has four grown children. Two of them live here on Gotland, and two of them live in Stockholm. She’s friends with one of her neighbours, and she has two sisters, one on Gotland and one in Stockholm, whom she sees once in a while. She has a few colleagues who are also personal friends.’
    ‘OK, we need to interview everyone in Veronika’s family and social circle. Including neighbours and artist friends. She probably belongs to some sort of art society or association. Also the people who live in the summer-house area in Holmhällar. We may find an important lead out there. I’m planning to go and see Sten Bergström. He lives right nearby, so I want to talk to him again. As far as her children are concerned, we need to interview them as soon as possible.’

JOHAN WAS WOKEN by someone shaking him. He blinked at the light, and at first he had no idea where he was. Then he remembered. Last night at the Solo Club.
    Afterwards he’d gone back to the office and crashed on the sofa. He was staring up at a face black with soot. It took him a second before he recognized who it was.
    ‘Wake up. I’ve been ringing and ringing your mobile. You’d probably just go on snoozing even if the sky was falling.’
    ‘Calm down,’ he groaned.
    He sat up, yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He had a terrible taste in his mouth. Then he stared in surprise at Pia.
    ‘Have you seen what you look like?’
    ‘Some people have been working while you’ve been lying here dreaming. Did you go out on the town last night? Or to some party?’
    ‘I wish. No, I was at the Solo Club, taking care of drunk little girls. What’s going on?’
    Pia’s face was as black as the eyeliner she used. Her hair stuck out even more than usual, and her clothes were wrinkled and covered with black specks. The streaks on her neck matched her black mascara.
    ‘A cabin burned down out near Holmhällar.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘It was arson, and a woman was injured. I thought we could at least get some pictures for the wire service. I was awake when the call came in, and I happened to be down by Sudret, so I managed to take pictures while the cabin was still burning, plus I interviewed the fire chief. Then I waited for the crime techs to arrive and got one of them to confirm that they’d found a petrol can on the property along with several rags. Unfortunately, I missed the ambulance that came for the injured woman.’
    ‘Do you know how serious her injuries are?’
    ‘The fire chief thought she was just suffering from minor smoke inhalation. I called the hospital, but they wouldn’t tell me anything, of course. And by the way, it turned out to be a lucky break that I went out there.’
    ‘Why’s that?’
    ‘The cabin doesn’t belong to just anybody, let me tell you.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Veronika Hammar was living there. You know – the artist who does those sheep paintings that they sell at Stora Torget? Sheep out in the pasture, back-lit sheep, sheep on the beach …’
    ‘Oh, right. Sure, I know those paintings.’
    ‘Well, she’s the one who was injured. And do you know who she was having an affair with?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Viktor Algård. She’s the secret mistress.’
    Johan slowly put down his coffee cup.
    ‘Are you sure?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘How sure?’
    ‘Absolutely positive. I have a reliable source.’
    ‘We need two sources. Independent of each other.’
    ‘I don’t know whether that’s really necessary in this case.’ Pia had a sly look on her face.
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘My source is very close to the individual in question. I got the information from Andreas. You know – the sheep farmer.’
    ‘So?’
    ‘His last name is Hammar.’
    Johan stared at his colleague, dumbfounded.
    ‘You’re dating Veronika Hammar’s son?’
    ‘Your powers of deduction are impressive.’
    Johan turned on his computer and read the wire service news. All of the newspapers had printed pictures of the fire on the front page. Nowhere did it say that the cabin belonged to Veronika Hammar or that there was any connection between the fire and the murder of Viktor Algård.
    ‘But if the cabin belonged to Veronika and she was his secret girlfriend, then it sounds like the fire