Unspoken

shoes and jacket and then opened the front door as quietly as he could. He crossed the dark yard as his thoughts whirled. A jumble of irreconcilable images appeared in his mind: Leif in the sauna, on the ski slope, as Santa Claus at their house, playing soccer on the beach, standing in Dahlström’s darkroom with a hammer in his hand and acting with cold-blooded brutality, bending over Fanny Jansson’s young body in the photographs. He went around the corner of the house, and it took a few seconds before he noticed the figure in front of him. Suddenly he was standing face-to-face with Leif, who was holding his hands at a strange angle behind his back, as if he were hiding something. But Knutas never managed to see what it was.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 23
    Lina sounded worried when she called Karin Jacobsson early in the morning.
    “I haven’t heard from Anders since yesterday morning. Have you?”
    “No, his cell is turned off. I’ve tried to call him several times.”
    “Leif doesn’t answer, either. I just talked to Ingrid. I’m starting to worry. They were going out in the boat yesterday, and since then a real storm has blown in. I hope nothing has happened.”
    “I’m sure they’re fine,” Karin reassured her. “Anders said that he’d be here this afternoon. His cell battery probably ran out. Don’t they have a phone at the summer house?”
    “No. I’m thinking of driving out there to see if everything’s all right. This is making me nervous. It’s so unlike Anders not to call.”
    Jacobsson checked her watch. Ten fifteen. Kingsley wasn’t supposed to land until that afternoon.
    “Listen, I’ll go out there myself. I can get away at the moment.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes. I’ll be there in half an hour. We’ll call you as soon as I get there.”
    “Thank you.”
    Jacobsson had tried to call Knutas on his cell many times without getting through, and she had started feeling uneasy herself. On her way out to Gnisvärd, she called the Marine Rescue Service. No, nothing had happened, as far as they knew. She got the same answer from the Coast Guard.
    The road was slick. The temperature had dropped overnight and the slush had frozen, transforming the road into a sheet of ice. Jacobsson kept a safe distance from the other cars and was grateful that there was very little traffic.
    When she came to the sign for Gnisvärd, she turned off and continued along a smaller road toward the old fishing village. The Almlöv summer house was half a mile away, in a secluded spot near the water. She had been there once before, for a crayfish party. The house had a marvelous location with its own dock.
    The car was parked in the yard, and the boat was tied up at the dock. So they had to be close by.
    It was almost eleven thirty. The house seemed deserted. No smoke from the chimney, and the lights were turned off. Of course it was daylight, but the clouds made it seem quite dark outside.
    She knocked on the door. No answer. Pounded harder. Still no reaction.
    She saw no sign of human activity anywhere, except for the footprints in the snow leading back and forth between the house and the dock. Maybe they were out taking a walk.
    Imagine having a place like this , she thought enviously. Such peace . She looked out at the sea and the boathouse made of limestone. Farther down toward the water, right next to the dock, stood the sauna. That was the one that Dahlström had built. He had been paid under the table for it. She started walking across the yard. She didn’t notice the person who appeared right behind her.
    She heard only a brief rushing sound before she fell to the ground.
    On the day before Christmas Eve the call that he had been dreading came through. Her words were like a battle tank that mowed him down. Powerful and inexorable.
    “It’s not going to work anymore. I can’t keep doing this. I have to make up my mind, once and for all. I really care a lot for you, Johan, but I’m not ready to split up my family.”
    “I see,” he said tonelessly.
    “You have to understand. I just can’t,” she said, sounding more insistent. “It’s for the sake of my children, too. They’re still so young. And Olle and I get along fine, actually. It’s not exactly a passionate sort of love, but it works.”
    “How nice for you.”
    “No, don’t do that, Johan. I realize you’re upset. This is really hard for me, too. Don’t make things worse than they already are.”
    “Right.”
    “Don’t be like