The Double Silence (Andas Knutas 7)

meant. ‘Your neighbour whose name is Sten Boberg. Do you know where he is?’
    For a moment the old woman looked confused. Her gaze shifted and her lower lip quivered. Jacobsson was afraid that she was going to burst into tears.
    ‘It’s all right,’ she said soothingly. ‘It’s nothing to worry about. We just want to have a little talk with the man.’
    She pointed again and then held up her ID.
    ‘I have his keys. If he’s not at home, you can go in and wait for him.’
    Jacobsson gave the woman a doubtful look.
    ‘You have his keys? Well, how fortunate. Could we borrow them?’
    ‘Just a minute.’
    Jacobsson watched in surprise as the old woman disappeared intothe dimly lit flat. She heard drawers opening and closing as the woman muttered to herself the whole time. It almost sounded as if she were scolding someone. After several minutes she was back behind the security chain, holding out a gnarled, trembling hand to give Jacobsson a key ring.
    ‘I have the keys from when Asta lived there. Before she died. I used to water her flowers when she went out of town to visit her son on the mainland. Gunnar. He was a nice boy. He always brought flowers for his old mother. Such a nice boy. But now Asta is dead, and everyone else is too. I’m the only one left, except for that man, who comes and goes. I don’t trust him, so I didn’t tell him that I had the keys. Here you are, young lady. Take them.’
    ‘Thank you so much.’ Jacobsson grabbed the key ring. ‘I’ll bring them back when we’re done.’
    ‘That’s not necessary. I have no use for them any more. Asta is dead, and soon I’ll be gone too.’
    ‘Unbelievable,’ Jacobsson whispered to Wittberg, who was sitting on the stairs, having resigned himself to wait. ‘One minute the old woman was totally confused, and the next she was sharp as a tack.’ She waved the keys before her colleague’s eyes. ‘And she had his keys. It’s too good to be true.’
    ‘You’re out of your mind. We can’t just barge in. We have nothing on him. He’s not under suspicion for any sort of crime.’
    ‘Right now I couldn’t care less. But OK, I’ll phone Smittenberg.’ Without waiting for a response, she tapped in the phone number for the prosecutor. No answer.
    ‘What a shame,’ she told Wittberg with a grin. He didn’t reply.
    And before her colleague could object, Jacobsson unlocked the door.

KNUTAS WOKE UP early. The ache in his wrist was almost gone. He was alone in the bed because Lina was out of town again. Lately she’d done nothing but take off from work, using up any holiday time and days off in lieu that she was owed. The kids weren’t at home either. He was almost starting to think that he was getting used to the solitude.
    He thought about his wife and how she had changed. Maybe it has something to do with the menopause, thought Knutas, but then he was ashamed of such an idea. Why did people always blame hormones as soon as a woman wanted changes and started to make demands or to seek more time for herself? He wasn’t going to fall into that trap. Maybe he should just leave her in peace.
    Andrea Dahlberg’s face appeared in his mind. His first impression of her was that she was extremely controlled. Even though her husband had been murdered in the most cruel way, she had been composed during the first interview he’d had with her at police headquarters. She hadn’t shed a single tear.
    Andrea seemed determined to maintain a façade. Every time he’d seen her she had been amenable; she had been well groomed and properly dressed. She wore her long hair loose, but it was beautifully styled. She kept her home in perfect order, and the shop that she owned on Adelsgatan had been meticulously arranged and designed down to the smallest detail. Andrea seemed to be someone who left nothing to chance.
    Now she had sent her children to stay with their grandparents, but she herself had decided not to join them for the sailing expedition. She’dchanged her mind at the last second. Knutas wondered why. Apparently someone had contacted her. Was it a friend of hers? How could she leave her children like that when they’d just lost their father? And strangely enough, she’d made herself unavailable, even though her husband and best friend had just been murdered, and the police might need to contact her.
    Within a short time she’d lost the two people who meant the most in her life, other than her children. How had that affected her? He thought