The Double Silence (Andas Knutas 7)

and take it off her.’
    ‘Then what happened?’
    ‘She rang the police. She was so upset that the duty officer sent out a patrol car. They checked outside the house but found nothing. Then they stayed to talk to her until she calmed down.’
    ‘What in Christ’s name could that be about? Did she recognize the voice?’
    ‘I don’t think so. But I haven’t talked to her. Wittberg was the one who went out there to see her.’
    ‘The guy must have been right outside her window. Have you checked with the neighbours? Asked them if anybody suspicious was seen outside the Dahlberg house, I mean?’
    ‘Of course we have,’ said Jacobsson impatiently. ‘No one noticed anything unusual. At least they said they didn’t. I’m starting to have serious doubts about whether this group can be trusted.’
    They passed the little village of Tingstäde.
    ‘Isn’t this where your parents live?’ asked Kihlgård.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Whereabouts?’
    ‘You can’t see their house from the road.’
    Kihlgård fell silent. It was obvious that Karin didn’t want to talk about her parents.
    ‘Would you like one?’ He held out a bag of sugar doughnuts. Jacobsson couldn’t help smiling.
    ‘Didn’t you have time for breakfast?’
    ‘Yes, but there’s a bakery right next door to the hotel, and every morning when I open the window, I can smell the fresh doughnuts. I couldn’t resist. Coffee?’ Kihlgård pulled out a thermos and two paper cups.
    ‘And where did you get those?’
    ‘Well, I’ve made friends with the waiter who serves breakfast, and I told him we were driving all the way to Fårö and wondered whether we could get some coffee to take along. He said it was no problem.’
    Jacobsson gratefully accepted a cup of coffee. They soon reached the dock at Fårösund, just in time to catch the ferry. At this hour on a Saturday morning, only a few cars were on board.
    They were going to start by driving over to the home of the woman that Knutas had spoken to yesterday, the one who had reported her brother missing. Märta Gardell lived just outside the village of Dämba, which consisted of a cluster of houses crowded in between sheep pastures. She lived in a small, low limestone house, and she’d set the table in the garden for coffee. All three of them sat down in the shade. Kihlgård helped himself to the homemade saffron pancakes.
    ‘So tell us what happened,’ said Jacobsson. ‘You said your brother has disappeared. Is that right?’
    ‘Yes,’ replied Märta. ‘I haven’t heard from him all week, and that’s not like him. He usually comes by at least every other day to have a meal with me. We both live alone now. My husband passed away last year, almost the same time as Ingmar Bergman, just a week later. And Valter has never married. He has lived over there in that cabin of his all these years. The only people he ever sees are me and my family, plus Ingmar. They were neighbours, you know. Valter helped him out a lot, taking care of the house when Ingmar was in Stockholm or travelling.’
    ‘When did you last see your brother?’
    ‘A week ago. He came over and we had dinner together. He’d brought me several flounders.’
    ‘Did you notice anything different about him?’
    ‘Not at all. He was just the same as usual. Very quiet. My brother doesn’t talk much. Not like me.’
    ‘How long did he stay?’
    ‘He must have been here a couple of hours. He helped me with some digging in the garden and then chopped some wood for me. My arms aren’t as strong as they used to be.’
    ‘So this was a week ago? And you haven’t heard from him since?’
    ‘No, not a word. I haven’t seen him, and nobody else has either. I’ve asked all the neighbours, everyone we know, in the shops and down by the ferry. Not a single person has seen hide nor hair of him for a whole week.’
    ‘And you said that he lives alone?’
    ‘That’s right. He always has, though I don’t know why. But I’ve never asked. That’s his own business.’ She sighed.
    ‘Does he usually keep to himself?’
    ‘I suppose he’s somewhat of a loner, but we’ve always got along well. We enjoy each other’s company. And after the children moved away and my husband died, he doesn’t mind coming over here. In the past there was always so much commotion in the house, and he doesn’t do well in noisy situations. So he didn’t come around much. But as I said, I started to think something was wrong, and he’s not answering his phone.