The Double Silence (Andas Knutas 7)

Fortunately, he was still alone in the little restaurant. Probably no one would want to sit inside eating pizza in this heat. The front door stood open to let in some air. Fatigue suddenly overwhelmed him. He hadn’t slept properly for weeks. He ordered coffee and asked for the bill.
    When he left the restaurant, he was a bit unsteady on his feet. And the contempt that he felt for himself grew.

JOHAN BERG WAS cooking dinner. He was itching to get back to his job. He sighed heavily, hoping that the feeling would pass. He couldn’t go around like this for the next six months. He thought with admiration of all the women who stayed at home with their children year after year. He was amazed they could stand it.
    For the moment peace reigned in the house. Elin was watching a TV programme for kids while Anton sat on the floor, waving a rattle. Johan had showered and shaved and was sipping a glass of red wine that he’d placed within reach. Emma was at the gym and would be home soon.
    The phone rang. He picked it up as he continued stirring the chicken casserole, redolent with garlic. It was Emma’s favourite dish.
    He didn’t recognize the voice of the man on the phone.
    ‘Uh, hello, I’m sorry to bother you. This is Arne Gustavsson, and I live on Fårö. I’m a good friend of Emma’s parents. They gave me your number.’
    ‘Oh. Hello.’
    Emma’s parents had lived for many years in the northern part of Fårö.
    ‘I’m calling about the pictures they’ve published on the Internet. You know, the ones of the missing woman.’
    The missing woman? Johan had no idea what the man was talking about.
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘Well, I know that you’re a journalist and so I talked to Sture, Emma’s father. We’ve been friends for a long time. Here on Fårö everybody knowseveryone else, more or less. There aren’t that many of us living here, after all. And I thought that I should ring you. I’ve talked to the police too, of course, but Sture said that you’d definitely be interested.’
    Johan took his eyes off the stove for a moment, picked up his glass of wine, and sat down on a chair at the kitchen table. What in the world was this guy babbling about?
    ‘What’s this about?’
    ‘Well, the thing is, a week ago I saw the missing woman – Stina Ek, whose picture is in all the papers – right outside where I live. She came cycling past, and my dog ran after her. I called out to her, but she just kept on going. I wanted to stop her because she was headed for some private land, and I didn’t know who she was.’
    ‘Private land?’
    ‘Yes, I live next to Ingmar Bergman’s property out here in Hammars. And it looked like she was headed in that direction.’
    Johan slowly lowered his hand, still holding the glass. He was trying to gather his thoughts. He’d spent the whole day without listening to a single news broadcast, and he hadn’t turned on his computer since morning. He had no idea what the man was trying to tell him.
    ‘I’m sorry if I seem a bit confused,’ he apologized. ‘I’m in the middle of taking care of the kids and cooking dinner, so I haven’t a clue what happened today. Could you tell me what this is all about?’
    ‘Sure.’ The man on the phone cleared his throat. ‘The police are looking for a woman named Stina Ek. She was apparently part of the same group as Sam Dahlberg, who was found dead on Stora Karlsö. A bunch of friends from Visby had come over for the Bergman festival and then continued on to Stora Karlsö. One of the women, whose name is Stina Ek, disappeared from Fårö a week ago. Now the police want to find out any information they can about her, and I seem to have been the last person to see her before she vanished.’
    ‘When was that?’
    ‘Last Saturday. She came cycling past in the afternoon.’
    ‘I see.’
    Johan was beginning to understand. At that moment Elin came in fromthe living room, sobbing. She wasn’t wearing a nappy, and she had wet herself. At the same time, Anton began crying.
    ‘Maybe it would be best for us to meet so you could explain things in more detail. Would that be OK?’
    ‘Sure, that’s no problem.’
    ‘How about tomorrow morning? Around eleven? I can come out to your place.’
    ‘All right. My wife and I will be home.’
    Johan asked for directions, which he quickly jotted down while the sound of the children crying rose to a deafening level in the background.
    He put down the phone and dealt with the chaos while thoughts whirled