The Double Silence (Andas Knutas 7)

back.’
    ‘What about his wife, Andrea? Could someone as small as Stina Ek have done it? Or someone else in that circle of friends?’
    ‘Håkan doesn’t have an alibi, since he was sleeping alone,’ said Knutas. ‘And Andrea was too, actually. While Stina wasn’t even there.’
    ‘Maybe she has a specific reason for staying away. Or else she may have fallen and her dead body is lying out there somewhere,’ Wittberg speculated.
    ‘OK. We really have no idea about that. But what about the motive? Who had a reason for wanting Sam Dahlberg dead?’
    For a moment none of them said a word. Finally Jacobsson spoke.
    ‘Maybe we’re on the wrong track. We’re locked into the idea that it had to be someone in the group. What if the site itself is the reason for the murder – the fact that they were on Stora Karlsö? Had Sam ever been there before? Did he have a connection to any of the employees? Or has he ever worked there in the past? Have we checked on that?’
    Knutas shook his head.
    ‘Not as far as I know. Could you follow up on that?’
    ‘Of course,’ said Jacobsson. ‘But it’s only a suggestion. It seems so strange that Stina has disappeared. What exactly do we know about her?’
    ‘Not much. She was adopted from Vietnam, and she’s generally well liked. A close friend of both Andrea and Sam. Her parents weren’t able to tell us much. Her colleagues couldn’t either. She’s always been conscientious, both at home and on the job. Apparently she has never drawn attention to herself. Everyone describes her as pleasant and nice, but somewhat reserved. A bit hard to get to know.’
    ‘I still think that the group of friends holds the answer to this case,’ said Wittberg. ‘One thing that has struck me with this whole investigation is that those people from Terra Nova seem to have a slightly unhealthy sort of friendship. I mean, good Lord, they do everything together. They live only a few metres from each other, the kids are in the same classes, they work out together, they have all their celebrations together, they help each other repair their houses and cars. They do their Christmas baking together, spend Midsummer with each other, and hold their annual crayfish parties and New Year’s Eve celebrations together. Some of them have summer cabins in the same area near Sudret. It’s unbelievable. They can’t even take holidays on their own! The ones who like to ski go to the mountains every year; the women take “girl holidays” together, and some of them even get together to do major grocery shopping. Can you imagine that? Every week they make lists and then take turns driving to the ICA Supermarket to shop. It almost seems like some sort of cult. It wouldn’t surprise me if they even fucked together!’
    ‘I don’t think there’s anything wrong with helping each other out andoffering support,’ Jacobsson objected. ‘It seems only natural, especially since they have children the same age.’
    ‘But shopping for groceries together? And spending holidays together? Doesn’t that seem a bit extreme? For me it sounds like a real Knutby situation, the way they’ve put up such a united front. I wouldn’t be surprised if we find out that one of them is the killer. Somebody who wanted Sam out of the way.’
    ‘But why?’
    ‘I have no idea. Maybe someone has been getting it on with Andrea.’
    ‘So according to your theory, his wife, Andrea, made friends with someone and it went so far that she and her lover decided to get rid of Sam?’ said Knutas. ‘Why not just get a divorce if that was the case?’
    A brief silence ensued. Then there was a knock on the door. Erik Sohlman stuck his head in.
    ‘They’ve found a sleeping bag and some other things hidden in a grove of trees on Stora Karlsö. It seems that our killer spent the night there.’

JOHAN BERG WAS filled with anticipation as he pulled up outside the Swedish Radio and TV building in Visby and parked his car. It was going to be great to have some adult conversation for a change, talking shop with his colleagues and hearing the latest scuttlebutt from TV headquarters in Stockholm. He’d missed the annual summer party, which was always a huge bash, with alcohol flowing in rivers. And once in a while some of the party-goers would really let loose. It would be fun to hear who had gone home together at the end of the evening.
    As he approached the front door, he really felt how much he had missed his job. He said hello to a few