The Double Silence (Andas Knutas 7)

person. I can’t understand where he could have gone.’
    ‘What about his mobile phone?’
    ‘He took it with him. That’s not so strange, even though the coverage is awful here on the island. Sam never goes anywhere without his mobile. He even takes it with him to the toilet.’ A fleeting smile passed over her face. Then her expression turned serious again. ‘What do you think could have happened to him?’
    ‘It wouldn’t be wise to speculate at this point,’ said Jacobsson. ‘We don’t really know anything yet. Our first priority is to locate your husband. Is it possible that he left the island without telling you?’
    Andrea Dahlberg looked genuinely surprised.
    ‘Why would he do that?’
    ‘At this stage we can’t rule out any possibility. You have children, don’t you? When did he last speak to them?’
    ‘I don’t know.’
    ‘Have you told them that their father has gone missing?’
    ‘No. I didn’t want to upset them,’ said Andrea in a stifled voice. For a moment she hid her face in her hands.
    ‘Where are the children?’
    ‘They’re staying with my mother and her husband on Mjölkö in the Stockholm archipelago.’
    ‘It might be a good idea to phone them.’
    ‘You’re right … I’ll do it soon.’
    ‘We’re done here for the moment. Just one last question. How is your relationship with Sam?’
    Andrea gave them a resolute look as she replied.
    ‘It’s great. Couldn’t be better. We love each other. We always have.’
    ‘OK.’ Jacobsson stood up and shook Andrea’s hand. ‘That’s all for now. I think you should ring your children right away. If you find out that your husband contacted them or your mother, you need to notify us at once. Any information is important. Try to think about how Sam has acted lately. How has he behaved? Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary? Has anything new come into your lives? A new person? A new situation? Think about these things, and we’ll come back to see you again later.’
    She gave the anxious wife a friendly pat on the shoulder before leaving the room.

JACOBSSON WENT WITH the coastguard crew to search the shore beneath the bird mountain where Dahlberg’s backpack had been found. Wittberg stayed behind at the cabin area to coordinate the search efforts.
    The inflatable boat puttered quietly along the shoreline. The beach was rocky and inaccessible. From the water it was difficult, if not impossible, to tell whether there might be a body on shore. One of the coastguard officers steered the boat towards a strip of land at the foot of the cliffs. The boat careened as it struck several big rocks on the approach to shore. They had to get out and wade the last few metres. Jacobsson was grateful that she’d had the good sense to wear wellington boots. The group consisted of five people: four beefy guys from the coastguard service, and Jacobsson. As they reached shore, the birds seemed to get alarmed and their shrieking grew even louder.
    Out in the water the male birds had already started to gather. In a few hours the diving would begin. In spite of the situation, Jacobsson couldn’t help being fascinated by the birds. She raised her head and looked up. They were everywhere, and here and there she caught a glimpse of several fledglings. Birds were flying back and forth through the air, reminding her of Alfred Hitchcock’s classic horror film
The Birds
. Her stomach turned over at the thought that they might suddenly go on the attack.
    She and the officers spread out to begin their search, with the angry protests of the birds continuing overhead. The whole time big auks and gulls glided along the slopes, hoping to catch a baby bird. They posed an ever-present threat.
    After only a few minutes one of the men waved from the edge of the beach and everyone else hurried over to him. Jacobsson felt a rush of relief. It must mean that Sam was still alive.
    But behind a boulder they found the windsurfer Jakob Ekström.
    ‘Thank God you came,’ he said.
    ‘How are you?’ asked Jacobsson, leaning down to take his pulse. The young man was suffering from hypothermia and exhaustion. He was bleeding from a cut on his forehead, and his right leg was bent at a strange angle. It was probably broken.
    ‘He’s in much worse shape than me,’ muttered Ekström. ‘That other guy.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    He raised his hand to point at several boulders further away.
    Jacobsson and two of the men ran off in that direction.
    They