weeks now, and it never seemed to let up. He and the twins had to manage as best they could. Not that it was a problem. For the most part the children did a great job all on their own. So far Petra and Nils had spent their summer vacation swimming and playing soccer. They had no objections to receiving money to buy pizza and hamburgers instead of eating their father's poorly cooked meals. The last straw came when he once again offered them what he proudly presented as 'Pappa's special macaroni and cheese.' It was a tasteless, mushy dish and, on top of everything else, it was burned around the edges.
For Knutas's part, the spring had been relatively uneventful. He hadn't felt well for a while after a high-profile murder case in the winter, when a girl had disappeared and was later found dead. The case had gotten under his skin, and he had become involved in a highly personal manner. In hindsight it was impossible to say how that might have affected his judgment, but he was afraid that it had failed him. If so, he had contributed to the girl's death. The guilt he felt was hard to bear.
For a while he thought he was sinking into a depression of the very worst kind. Insomnia was the clearest sign-and the fact that he often felt dejected and listless wasn't like him. Suddenly he had also acquired a temper that made Lina's loud outbursts seem like mouse squeaks in comparison. He lost his temper at the slightest things, and when his family members reacted to his unprovoked anger, he felt offended and wronged. Like a damn martyr. It ended with Lina dragging him to see a psychologist. For the first time in his life Knutas had accepted professional help for his personal problems. His expectations were low, but he'd been surprised. The therapist was there to help him, and she gave him her undivided attention, listening without offering advice or criticism. She took in what he said, then asked a few questions here and there, which led him onto new avenues of thought. Through the therapy he had gained new insights about himself and his relationship to those around him, and the feelings of guilt gradually decreased. It was actually only recently that he'd started feeling better.
His thoughts were interrupted when the phone rang again. The switchboard wanted to know if he was willing to meet with the team from Swedish TV. With a sigh Knutas agreed. He had an ambivalent relationship with Johan Berg. The reporter's persistence could infuriate Knutas, although he had to admit that Berg was good at his job. Berg often managed to dig up information on his own, plus he had a confounded talent for getting people, including the superintendent, to reveal more than they'd originally intended to say.
Johan seemed stressed when he appeared in the hallway. He probably was in a rush to do his broadcast. His black hair was plastered to his forehead, and his cotton shirt was rumpled and stained. It occurred to Knutas that the reporter had probably already been out to Petesviken and had just come back from there. If only he hadn't found anyone who had agreed to an interview. Knutas didn't want to say anything; he had no right to interfere with the work of journalists. Their job was to find out as much as possible, while his was to make sure that information didn't leak out. He prepared himself for some difficult questions, noticing how his jaw tightened before the interview even began.
Johan had brought with him that new camerawoman, who looked like a punk with her black hair sticking out in all directions. She also had a ring in her nose.
Pia refused to make do with standing in the hallway. She directed them out to a balcony that had been built when police headquarters was remodeled. She wanted Knutas to talk about that horrible crime against the idyllic backdrop of the summer greenery, the ring wall, and the sea. Typical TV people-the only thing they thought about was their camera shots.
Johan started off with the usual questions about what had happened. Then came something unexpected-or maybe not totally unexpected.
'Have you found the head?'
Knutas clenched his teeth and didn't answer. The fact that the head was missing was something the police had decided to keep secret. Those who knew about it had been given strict instructions not to divulge anything about the matter.
'I wonder if you've found the head,' Johan repeated stubbornly.
'I have nothing to say on that topic,' said Knutas, annoyed.
'I've been told by a reliable source that it's missing,' said Johan. 'So you might as well confirm it, don't you think?'
Knutas's face turned bright red with anger. He realized that the police no longer had anything to gain by denying the fact.
'No, we haven't found the head,' he admitted, giving a sigh of resignation.
'Do you have any theory about what happened to it?'
'No.'
'Does that mean that the perpetrator took it with him?'
'Probably.'
'Why would he do that?'
'Impossible to say at the moment.'
'What do you think the person or persons who did this will use the head for?'
'It's all speculation, and speculation is something that we police don't waste much time on. Right now it's a matter of trying to catch the guilty party.'
'What's your personal reaction to the crime?'
'I think it's terrible that someone would do such a thing to an animal. It goes without saying that the police are taking the matter very seriously, and we're going to devote all possible resources to finding out who's to blame. We're appealing to the public to call the police with information if they saw or heard anything that might be connected with the crime.'
Knutas ended the interview.
He was hot and annoyed. Even though he knew it was fruitless, he tried to get Johan to leave out the information about the missing head. Not surprisingly, the journalist refused to budge. He thought the information was of such general interest that it had to be made public.
By the time Pia and Johan got back to the office, they had to hurry to put together the story in time to make the evening news. They sat down to work in the only editing room. Johan called Grenfors, who thought it was okay that they had interviewed the girls. They were old enough, and he was of the same opinion as Pia-it was just a horse, after all. On the other hand, Grenfors wasn't known for being the most cautious of news editors.
'I just hope that no one else finds out the part about the missing head,' murmured Pia as she focused on pushing buttons. They had half an hour left before it was time for the first spot from Regional News, and they had promised the editor to deliver at least a minute and a half. At five fifty they were ready, and they sent the digital story by computer to the home office in Stockholm.
After the broadcast, Grenfors called. 'Well done,' he said appreciatively. 'Great that you got the girls. They were damn good, and I don't think they've been interviewed by anyone else.'
'No, as far as I know, we were the only ones they talked to.'
'How did you get them to talk, by the way?'
'The credit goes to Pia,' said Johan. 'She was the one who persuaded them.'
'Is that right?' Grenfors sounded surprised. 'Give her my best and tell her that she did a damn fine job. What are you doing tomorrow to follow up?'
In his mind Johan pictured the editor as he sat there, tilting his chair back at his desk in the Regional News offices in the TV building in Stockholm's Gardet district. He was a tall, trim man of fifty, with dyed hair and a blatant sense of vanity.
Johan thought that things had been getting worse lately. Grenfors had grown more and more nervous. His anxiety about not getting usable stories delivered on time manifested itself in different ways: constant phone calls to ask how the work was proceeding and long discussions about how the report should be done. The editor often made his own calls to individuals who had been booked for an interview, just to double-check that it was actually going to take place.
Of course, Grenfors had always had a tendency to meddle too much, but not to this extent. Johan wondered whether it had to do with the increased stress and shrinking profits at the editorial office. Cutbacks were frequent at the news divisions. Resources were constantly being reduced, while fewer and fewer people were being asked to do more stories, at the price of stressed-out colleagues and reduced quality.
That was one of the big advantages of working on Gotland-not having to take the brunt of the editor's constant anxiety. Right now Johan could at least keep it at a distance.
