The Double Silence (Andas Knutas 7)

over, and now they were just waiting for the arraignment.
    Andrea would have to undergo a psychiatric examination. Karin couldn’t help feeling sorry for the woman. Life was a labyrinth, and the human being was such a fragile creature. She found it hard to judge anyone. I’m really too soft-hearted to be a police officer, she thought, looking out of the window as the plane rose through the cloud cover.
    Now she was on her way to see her daughter. When Karin thought about that, she felt her stomach churn. She was glad the plane was only half full so she had the row to herself. She needed to retreat for a while. She’d decided to meet with Hanna von Schwerin face to face, but without phoning her in advance. She’d just have to wait and see how things went. Knutas was the one who had helped her make up her mind. He had offered support and encouragement all along. She pictured his face in hermind and couldn’t help feeling both admiration and a bit of envy because he was the one who had actually caught the murderer.
    The plane landed at Bromma Airport outside Stockholm, and Jacobsson headed straight for the taxi queue. She hadn’t bothered to bring along any luggage. On the way she switched on her mobile and discovered a text message. It said:
Saturday 8 o’clock at Packhuskällaren? Interested? Hugs from Janne
. Karin smiled and replied:
Sounds great
.
    She got into a cab.
    ‘I’m going to Wollmar Yxkullsgatan 51,’ she said, noticing that her voice quavered. If Hanna wasn’t at home, she’d just wait outside. It didn’t matter how long it took.
    The cab stopped in front of a grand red-brick building with a beautifully carved door. Karin paid the fare and got out. Her heart was beating twice as fast as normal. Through the glass panes in the door she could make out a gold nameplate engraved with the names of all the residents who lived in the building.
    Hanna von Schwerin lived on the fifth floor, which meant that her flat was at the very top. Karin wondered if it faced the street. She backed up a few metres and peered at the façade from the opposite pavement. A beautiful, ornamental wrought-iron balcony covered nearly half the width of the building on the top floor. Was that her flat? Karin assumed that it must have cost several million Swedish kronor. Her courage sank. How would this all end?
    She walked back across the street and over to a small café. She sat down at a table nearest the door and ordered a caffè latte and a glass of water. She lit a cigarette, preparing herself for a long wait. She’d brought along some newspapers, which she absent-mindedly leafed through as she sat there. An hour passed. Then another. Several times the door opened and various people came and went. An elderly couple, a young man, a father with a baby in a pram. No one who could possibly be Hanna von Schwerin.
    Karin needed to use the toilet, but she was afraid of missing herdaughter. For a long time nothing happened, and she began to lose hope. What if Hanna was out of town?
    It was past five o’clock when the front door opened again. First she saw the dog. A big, shaggy mongrel that was tugging at its lead. The next second a young woman appeared. She looked to be about twenty-five. Karin stared, holding her breath. She was just as short as Karin, with tousled dark hair under a cap that said ‘Fuck You’ on it. A hoodie, jeans and trainers.
    ‘Come on, Nelson,’ she said to the dog, which had spotted Karin sitting at the nearby table and had come over to say hello. Karin leaned down to let him lick her hand. And then she couldn’t help it – she started to cry.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ said Hanna, who hadn’t noticed Karin’s tears. ‘He loves people.’
    Karin raised her head, with tears still streaming down her face.
    Hanna’s smile vanished. At first she looked surprised.
    ‘Oh, what’s wrong …?’
    Then her voice faded. Her gaze quickly took in Karin’s face. The young woman froze.
    Karin looked at her daughter. There was absolutely no doubt.
    Hanna even had a little gap between her front teeth.

KNUTAS WAS SITTING at his desk, filling his pipe. The corridor outside his office was quiet. It was past midnight. He had stayed on at headquarters to go through all of the paperwork that had piled up while he was on sick leave. It felt good to put that whole depressing murder case behind him. It was time to move on.
    Besides, there were plenty of other things that required his attention. In spite of his good