Knutas started off the meeting of the investigative team by telling everyone about the horse's head out at Mellgren's place.
'What is going on here?' growled Kihlgard agitatedly, making the bread crumbs fly. His mouth was full of Gotland rye bread, fresh out of the oven.
'Yes, things do seem to be getting worse and worse,' said Knutas with a sigh. 'Mellgren found the horse's head stuck on a pole outside his chicken coop on Saturday night. We didn't find out about it until yesterday afternoon when his wife called. He clearly didn't want to tell anyone about the incident.'
'Why not?' asked Kihlgard.
'He told me that he panicked and didn't know what to do. At the same time, Susanna Mellgren claims that he seemed entirely unaffected by finding the head. They have completely opposite stories. Something definitely doesn't add up. But I think we should leave that part alone for the time being. The more important thing that I want to discuss is: What does it mean that the same bizarre thing has happened to Mellgren as to Gunnar Ambjornsson?'
'It must be a similar kind of threat, just like it was with Ambjornsson,' Norrby stated dryly.
'Although Ambjornsson hasn't received any subsequent threats,' interjected Wittberg.
'That's not so strange,' said Jacobsson, rolling her eyes. 'He's been out of the country ever since.'
'He'll be home in a week,' snapped Knutas. 'So the safety of these two individuals could be at risk. We need to consider giving them some protection.'
'Do we have resources for that?' Jacobsson raised her eyebrows.
'Not really.'
'But should we actually regard Mellgren as under some sort of threat?' Wittberg objected. 'Maybe he's mixed up in this whole thing himself. Why didn't he report the incident at once? And why wasn't he more upset? I, for one, have my suspicions.'
'Absolutely,' Jacobsson agreed. 'Mellgren must have some skeletons in his closet. Pardon the pun.'
'He's had a lot of adulterous affairs. Could it be a vengeful lover?' Kihlgard had a look of conspiratorial delight on his face.
'Someone who was also involved with Ambjornsson?' Jacobsson protested. 'An amorous woman who in the heat of passion kills horses and decapitates them, and then puts the heads on poles at the homes of her former lovers? That doesn't sound terribly plausible, does it?' She gave her colleague a friendly poke in the side.
'Never underestimate the power of love,' Kihlgard admonished her in a bombastic voice, shaking his finger like some sort of doomsday preacher.
'Let's stop joking around,' Knutas interrupted them, sounding annoyed. 'This isn't a game. We need to find out more about Mellgren. Who is he really? What sort of things does he do in his spare time? Is he politically active? What links can we find to Ambjornsson?'
'Yes, that's worth looking into. Maybe they've run into each other in connection with various types of construction. Archaeologists are often brought in on building projects,' Kihlgard suggested.
'Here on Gotland that's true with nearly every building,' said Jacobsson. 'The island is literally overflowing with ancient relics.'
'There's something else we should think about, just as Wittberg mentioned. Why did Mellgren seem so unaffected when he discovered the horse's head? At least according to his wife,' said Knutas. 'Yet he told me that he was panic-stricken, and that was why he didn't contact the police immediately.'
'Extremely odd.' Kihlgard tugged at a lock of his hair. 'The guy is obviously lying.'
'He must be a real cold-blooded type,' Jacobsson added. 'First his wife goes through the shock of seeing a horse's head stuck on a pole near their home. Then what does her husband do? He takes off and leaves her all alone, alarmed and frightened, and with four children. Not only that-he refuses to tell her where he's gone!'
'He doesn't give a shit about her. That much is clear,' said Wittberg.
'We've actually already come to that conclusion,' said Knutas. 'But why was he in such a hurry?'
In his hand he carried an invisible mirror in which he saw his parents. Sometimes their faces disappeared, and he couldn't manage to conjure them up again, no matter how hard he tried. He had been interrupted.
In the early evening, as he stood there painting with even strokes the rough surface of the facade and the air breathed peace and tranquility, the man had appeared from around the corner of the house.
Not that it came as any surprise. The visitor was expected. The meeting could have ended in disaster, but he had managed to restrain his anger. They had talked, and he was indignant that the intruder had succeeded in his intention of upsetting him.
When the man left, he felt shaken, and it had taken a good amount of time to recover his sense of equilibrium. That made him even stronger in his conviction, and in his mind he was able to anticipate enjoying the sweetness of retaliation.
He sat down on the mound that he'd created only a few weeks earlier-yet another holy place that offered him inner peace.
The earth hid its secrets; truth pounded beneath the surface, wanting to get out. It would soon be time. The labyrinth in which he had wandered all his life was about to come unraveled. The angles and corners, the detours and dead ends, the obscure recesses, everything was crawling out into the light, becoming clearer and simpler and filling him with hope for a much better life.
He happened to think of a poem that he'd read in school and had saved ever since. It was by the great nineteenth-century Swedish author Carl Jonas Love Almqvist. You are not alone. If among a thousand stars only one looks at you, believe in the star's meaning, believe in the gleam in its eye…
Someone was looking at him. Not just one, but many.
Just as Knutas was considering calling it a day and heading for home, someone knocked on the door. It was Agneta Larsvik. She was normally so composed, but right now there was something agitated in her expression, and she moved in an abrupt manner as she sank onto the visitor's chair in Knutas's office.
'I've just come back from the Mellgren place,' she explained. 'I was in Stockholm over the weekend and didn't get back until around three this afternoon. At any rate, I drove out to their farm in Larbro, even though no one was home. I couldn't get hold of Staffan Mellgren or his wife, so I took a chance and just drove out there.' She leaned forward. 'This incident with the horse's head on the pole is a serious matter. Very serious. I think that Mellgren needs immediate protection.'
'Why?'
'I interpret this as meaning that the perpetrator feels quite euphoric that he managed to pull off the first murder. It may be his way of announcing his arrival this time. He's sending a warning. At the same time, he's very self-confident, so confident he's going to get away with the crime that it doesn't matter if the individual receives a warning. On the contrary, that makes him all the more elated. I'm prepared to go so far as to say that the horse's head may very well represent a threat of homicide.'
'But Martina didn't receive a horse's head before she was murdered.'
'No, she didn't. For two reasons. Partly because he's gotten tougher. Partly because Martina lived with a lot of other people. It would have been more difficult to send her a personal warning.'
'In that case, your analysis would mean that Ambjornsson's life is also threatened.'
'Of course. Most likely the only reason that nothing has happened to him yet is because he's out of the country.'
'It's lucky that nothing about the horses' heads has leaked to the press. At least we're not going to offer the perpetrator that sort of satisfaction. And no one outside this building knows anything about the horse's head found on Mellgren's property.'
'Good. Keep it that way. It's important that the news doesn't get out. That would just make him feel even more exhilarated.'
'So you seriously think that this man is going to murder more people?'
'I'm afraid that he will. The question is: How long will it take before he does? There's a real risk that another murder is going to be committed soon. Now that he's had a taste of the experience, he's going to want to do it again.'
When the workday was over, Mellgren drove home. His wife had left a message on his cell phone, saying that she was taking the children over to her parents' house in Ljugarn. She didn't want to stay at the farm after the incident with the horse's head.
