through his body, making its way into every nook and cranny. He lost his grip on his pipe, which fell to the floor, scattering bits of tobacco over the rug.
He took another look at the painting to make sure that he was right. No, no. He couldn’t believe it, refused to believe it. The thought passed through his mind that he should just go to bed and pretend that he hadn’t noticed anything. He should bury his head in the sand and go on as usual. Part of him wished that he’d never seen that painting.
He tried to convince himself that there must be some other answer. Suddenly it occurred to him that Leif had been out in the boathouse the night before. What was he doing out there?
He had to go and take a look. Quickly he put on his 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 Dahlstrom’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 Gnisvard, 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 Gnisvard, she turned off and continued along a smaller road toward the old fishing village. The Almlov 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 Dahlstrom 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 that,” she cried, sounding annoyed. “Don’t make me feel even more guilty than I already do!”
“So that’s how it is. You just call me up and tell me it’s over, after you’ve said a hundred times that you love me, and that you’ve ‘never felt this way about anyone else,’ ” he said, doing a terrible impression of her by raising his voice to a falsetto.
“Then in less than a minute you tell me that I have to understand, that I shouldn’t make things worse than they already are, and that I shouldn’t make you feel guilty. Thanks a fucking lot. How considerate of you. But you think you can just crush me underfoot like a cockroach. No problem at all. First you throw yourself into my arms and tell me that I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you-well, except for your kids that you’re always talking about-and then you think it’s perfectly all right to just call me up and say it’s over!”
“It’s good that you brought up the part about my children,” she said, her voice icy cold. “That just confirms what I’ve suspected all along! You think it’s a nuisance that I have kids! Unfortunately, they’re part of the package, you know.”
“Don’t go saying that Sara and Filip have been some sort of obstacle, damn it. As you know, I’ve been fully prepared to take care of both you and the children. I’ve been daydreaming about moving to Gotland and maybe getting a job at the radio station or at one of the newspapers. The children would live with us, and I’ve thought about what my relationship would be with them. I wouldn’t force things. I’d take it easy. I would just be there for them and do the best I could. That’s what I’ve been thinking. And that maybe they would eventually get to know me and want to be with me, that we would play soccer and build tree houses and things like that. I love you-don’t you understand that? Maybe you don’t realize what that means. It’s so damn easy for you to bring up the whole issue with the children. You’re using Sara and Filip as some kind of fucking shield so that you won’t have to change your life!”
“Great,” she said sarcastically. “You said their names. I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you do that! So now you seem to think it’s time to show some interest in them. Well, it’s a little late for that.”
Johan sighed in resignation.
“Think whatever you like,” he said. “But I’m sure that’s exactly how things stand. You simply don’t dare break things off with Olle. You’re too scared. You should at least acknowledge this to yourself and stop putting the blame on anything else.”
“You think you know everything,” she snapped, now sounding on the verge of tears. “Maybe a lot of things have been happening over here that you don’t know anything about. Everything is so easy for you, but life can be very complicated. I hope you’ll learn that someday. You don’t know shit about what I’ve been going through.”
“Well, tell me! You’ve shut me out for weeks now. I’ve called and called, and the closest I can get to you is
