Unknown

year, and they always stay at his hotel. Of course, he's probably mostly a friend of her father, but it's still odd that she didn't at least stop by to say hello, don't you think? She's been on Gotland for more than four weeks, two of them in Visby. Why didn't she contact him? The hotel is right downtown, for God's sake, just a stone's throw from the college.'

'Have you talked to Jacob Dahlen?'

'Only on the phone. He's out of town.'

'Maybe she did intend to contact him but hadn't gotten around to it yet. You know how it is when you're someplace where you know someone only superficially. And the course continues until the middle of August. Maybe she thinks she has plenty of time to look him up.'

'Sure,' Jacobsson conceded. 'You might be right.'

'By the way, where did she stay during those two weeks when she was studying theory in Visby?'

'The same place as all the others. Student dorms on Mejerigatan.'

'Let's drive over and have a talk with the lodgers, also the landlord. Someone might have noticed something. I'll make the arrangements,' said Knutas and reached for the phone.

Patrick Flochten was a stately man with dark brown hair that stuck out in all directions. Judging by the color of his complexion, the weather had been nice in the Netherlands. He wore glasses with black frames that looked expensive, and he had on a light linen suit. His handshake was damp and his expression tense as he sat down on the visitor's chair in Knutas's office.

'Martina's brother and I are, of course, beside ourselves with worry. I'd like you to tell me everything that led up to my daughter's disappearance,' he said in perfect English. ' Everything! '

Knutas, whose command of English was far from sufficient for conducting an interview, had already anticipated this problem. That was why he had asked Jacobsson to join them. She began by describing what the police knew so far about Martina's disappearance. Jacobs-son kept wondering why there was something familiar about the man sitting across from her. Maybe it was just that he and his daughter looked alike, judging by the photos that she'd seen of Martina.

'I'm familiar with Warfsholm. I've gone out to the hotel with the children for dinner several times when we've been here on Gotland. How could Martina disappear from there without a single person seeing her? There are cottages and people everywhere. Besides, the nights are so bright here; it never gets really dark.'

'It was late at night when Martina left the others. The hotel guests were in bed asleep. She went to the bathroom around one o'clock, and by then almost everyone who had been to the concert had gone home. The few who were still awake were sitting in the bar.'

'Didn't anyone see anything?'

'Apparently not, unfortunately. A full-blown search is under way, of course. We're using dogs and helicopters. A search party is also being organized today. The search area is gradually being expanded.'

Jacobsson deliberately neglected to mention the divers. It sounded too horrible, as if they'd already given up hope of finding Martina alive.

'Could she have gone to the mainland?'

'There's no indication that she has left the island. We've checked the passenger lists with the company that operates the ferry service, as well as the airlines. In any event, she didn't travel under her own name. The front desk at the hotel holds on to the students' valuables for safekeeping, and nothing was missing-not her passport or her Visa card or the cash that she had stowed away.'

Patrick Flochten gave both officers a look of despair. 'It sounds as if you're assuming that she's been involved in some sort of crime.'

Knutas and Jacobsson exchanged glances.

'Let's not rush ahead and assume the worst,' Jacobsson urged him. 'We have no idea what may have happened. Sometimes people disappear under the most peculiar circumstances, only to show up later without any sort of drama. That may well be the case here. We shouldn't forget that Martina has only been missing for a few days. Who knows? Maybe she fell head over heels in love, or something like that. Right now we need to take one thing at a time. First and foremost, we need to concentrate on finding her as quickly as possible. Has Martina ever disappeared before without letting anyone know?'

Patrick Flochten thought about that for a moment.

'Well, yes…She was sometimes pretty wild as a teenager. And yes, a few times she didn't come home at night, but not for several days in a row like this. And she's calmed down over the years.'

'Does she use drugs?'

'Not that I've noticed. She may have tried them-that goes without saying-but she has never used drugs in the sense that I think you're implying.'

'No other addiction problems or illnesses?'

'No.'

'What's her relationship like with her boyfriend?'

'Good, as far as I know. They've been together for over a year, and it seems to be very stable. He's quite a bit older.'

'Has she told you about some new man that she's met?'

'No, why would she do that?'

'Several circumstances indicate that she has a new relationship. A witness has also suggested that she may be in love with someone.'

'Really? That's odd. She's usually so open about things like that. We have no secrets from each other.' Patrick Flochten's expression grew wary.

'We know that you regularly come here on vacation and that you usually stay at the Wisby hotel-is that right?'

'Yes. I've known the owner for a long time. Jacob Dahlen. We're business acquaintances, and we've also been friends for many years.'

Tears welled up in Patrick Flochten's eyes, as if he suddenly remembered that his daughter was missing.

No one said anything for a moment.

'What kind of work do you do?' Knutas asked.

'I'm an architect. I run an architectural firm in Rotterdam along with a partner. We also own several development companies, including one here on Gotland.'

'Is that right? Which one?'

'Our firm helped design the new condos at Sodervarn, and we're involved in the big hotel project that's being planned.'

'The one at Hogklint?'

'Exactly. I designed the hotel, and we're also investors.'

Jacobsson suddenly remembered where she had seen Patrick Flochten before. One of the local newspapers had done a story about the project and included the name of the architect along with his picture. She now recalled that his children were also mentioned. It was reported that his late wife had been from Gotland.

'So you're going to be working over here a good deal?'

'I would think so.'

'But you've been here a lot before?'

'Yes. During the past year I've spent a great deal of time in Visby.' His voice faded away. Patrick Flochten hid his face in his hands.

'Maybe that's enough for now,' Knutas interjected. 'Is there anything else you would like to know?'

'Yes,' replied the man tonelessly. 'Where can I start searching?'

When Emma woke up in the morning, it took a moment before she realized that she was back home again after giving birth. The tenderness in her abdomen reminded her of what she'd been through. The sunlight coming through the curtains rested on the face of her newborn baby as she lay there, so very small, surrounded by pillows and covers. Emma turned onto her side and placed her hand gently on the tiny, downy shoulder poking out from under the knitted shirt.

The baby's face was a blotchy red. Emma looked for signs of herself and Johan in their new daughter's features. He was going to drop by for a while before work. She wanted to see him, and yet she didn't.