The Double Silence (Andas Knutas 7)

back to me, utterly still, and looking out of the window at the garden, the lilacs, the blossoming apple trees, the bright green leaves of the birches. And off in the distance, the gleaming water.
    Pappa suddenly seemed like a stranger as he sat there. Motionless. Unaware that he was not alone. Usually he was in constant motion. Taking big strides in his wellington boots, he would cross the yard on his way to tend to the livestock. He would drive the tractor around and around out in the fields, spend time working on a piece of machinery behind the barn, or go out to mow the grass. He was always dashing about, always busy with something. He never sat still, the way he was doing on that morning. Maybe that was why he seemed like a stranger to me.
    I sank down on to the staircase and sat there without announcing my presence. I don’t know why I did that. The air seemed oppressive in the room. The mood seemed inexplicably unpleasant and unfamiliar. As if the walls were closing in with anguish.
    I heard Pappa sigh. He leaned his head on one hand, ran the other through his hair. I wondered what he was thinking about at that moment. I wondered if he was worried about something. If there was anything I could do to help him. Beloved Pappa. My stomach churned with anxiety. Maybe he needed comforting. I was just about to get up when he turned around. Our eyes met. I will never forget the expression on his face. I opened my mouth to say something, but he beat me to it. The strange silence was shattered, and his face broke into a smile. His voice sounded the way it always did.
    Everything was as it should be. I breathed a sigh of relief.

KARIN WAS SITTING alone in her office, paging through the preliminary post-mortem report. It had been difficult to ascertain the precise time of death, but the ME thought Stina Ek had been dead for about two weeks. The cause of death was a violent blow to the head, delivered by a blunt instrument, most likely a rock. Karin felt sick when she read that part. The victim had suffered extensive skull injuries, but it had been impossible to determine much else because the body had already started to decay as a result of the heat and the exposed location near the water. However, the ME did find bruises and scratches on her forearms, neck and chest. The victim also had shreds of skin under her fingernails, all of which indicated that she had put up a fight. DNA samples had been taken, and Jacobsson had asked the techs at the Swedish Crime Lab to put a rush on their report, but it would still take at least a few days to get back the results.
    Jacobsson took out the ME’s findings on Sam Dahlberg and Valter Olsson. She spent the next hour comparing all the facts that the police had collected so far regarding the three homicides. Was it possible to determine that the same person had committed all three murders? By all indications, Stina had been killed before Sam, so they could rule her out as a possible suspect. Both she and Valter had died as the result of a blow to the head, but Valter’s body exhibited no signs of a struggle. What did these three people have in common that would make somebody want to kill them?
    Of course there were many things connecting Sam and Stina. Theywere neighbours, members of the same social circle, and good friends. But what about Valter?
    The only common link that she could think of was Ingmar Bergman. Sam was almost fanatically interested in the acclaimed director, while Stina had become a member of the group called the Friends of Bergman. Olsson had lived next door to Bergman for many years, ever since the director’s house had been built in the 1960s. The old man seemed to have had a good relationship with Bergman. Was it because of that relationship that he had died?

THROUGHOUT MY CHILDHOOD I secretly harboured a strong admiration for my sister, even though I would never openly admit to it. Emilia hated receiving compliments. She felt burdened by such remarks, and she usually thought that people were exaggerating when they praised her for something that she’d done or accomplished. She also loathed hearing any comments about her appearance. If anyone said that she was attractive or beautiful, she would merely snigger.
    But she was both of those things. She had long, shiny dark hair, very straight. A pale, heart-shaped face with freckles, and a dimple in her chin. Brown eyes with thick lashes. Nice teeth, although they were seldom seen because she almost never