'She may have done that to distract our attention, as we said earlier. I've found out a few more things about Susanna Mellgren, you see.'
'Okay, let's hear it,' said Knutas, who had calmed down.
'When she was younger she worked as a riding instructor. For five summers in a row she worked at the Dalhem Stables during their riding camps, and also with classes that met during the fall. It's been just over ten years since she stopped doing that. Their oldest son is ten, so that fits. Presumably she stopped when she got pregnant.'
'What does that prove?' Knutas gave Jacobsson an inquisitive look.
'Nothing. Except that she's used to being around horses, and that's an advantage if you're going to kill one.'
'That's not enough.'
'Of course not, but there's something else.'
'What?'
'Susanna Mellgren has also worked part-time at the ICA supermarket off and on. Guess in which department.'
Knutas didn't say a word.
'She worked as a butcher.'
'I see. Interesting. I wonder if that's good enough to arrest her.'
Jacobsson glanced at her watch. 'The meeting starts in five minutes, so we'll soon find out. If I know Birger, he's already here.'
THURSDAY, JULY 29
Birger Smittenberg didn't think there was sufficient reason to arrest Susanna Mellgren. Especially not after it became clear from interviewing guests at the pub in Ljugarn that she had been seen there during the entire time when her husband was being murdered. So she had an alibi. Knutas had never really believed that she would turn out to be the murderer. As a woman she didn't have the physical strength to hoist up the victims as had been done in both cases. It was impossible for her to be the perpetrator-unless she hadn't committed the murders alone.
This meant that the investigation was back to square one. The decision was expected, but Knutas still felt disappointed. It would have been too good to be true if the case could have been solved so easily. Especially since then he could have taken his longed-for summer vacation. Now nothing was going to come of it. The hot summer was disappearing outside the window as he sat in his dusty office and racked his brain.
Maybe it was time to turn everything upside down, to change perspective and point of view, to look at things from a different angle.
The fact that Martina Flochten and Staffan Mellgren were having an affair was undeniable. Susanna Mellgren had previously acknowledged that she realized her husband was once again being unfaithful. Over the years, she had learned all too well to see the signs. On the other hand, she still claimed that she didn't know who the woman was, and Knutas believed her. When it came to the footprints in the chicken house, she explained them by saying that she kept an old pair of wooden clogs out in the barn, but now they were gone. Presumably the perpetrator had put them on to mislead the police.
If it wasn't Mellgren's infidelities that had motivated the murders, then what had? And why the strange way in which they were carried out?
The question was whether the killing was now over. One factor indicated that the perpetrator planned yet another murder, and that was the horse's head at Gunnar Ambjornsson's house. Ambjornsson was still out of the country, but he was expected home on Sunday. Knutas decided to call him up to warn him. He found the number and was surprised to see how many digits there were. Ambjornsson had said that it might be hard to reach him. He had left his cell number. He couldn't provide the name of a hotel because he would be traveling the whole time. Knutas didn't get through; he got only a strange tone when he punched in the number. After several more attempts he gave up. He'd try again later.
That evening he and Lina made love for the first time in ages. Even though their love life usually blossomed during the summer, his sex drive had been virtually nonexistent lately. He'd been unusually tired, and when Lina asked him what was wrong, he had blamed the investigation for wearing him out. Deep inside, though, he was suffering from a feeling of anxiety that he couldn't get rid of. He had tried to contact his therapist without success, so he would have to wait until his appointment in August. From day to day he functioned more or less normally, but he didn't feel his usual sense of joy. He was thinking and moving like a sleepwalker. It was like being in a dream when you're running but your legs feel heavy and sluggish and you never get anywhere. He had the same feeling in his daily life. He had no energy for anything except what was absolutely necessary. Lina had also pointed out that he had gotten quieter and duller, as she put it. She sometimes asked him why he couldn't be happier. Knutas had no good answer to the question.
FRIDAY, JULY 30
It was Friday night, and Johan and Pia were finished with their evening report. Johan was eager to leave the editorial office. He was going over to Emma's house, and she had asked whether he'd like to stay overnight. As if she even had to ask.
She was going to cook dinner for him since he wouldn't be able to get away until around seven. Sara and Filip were staying with their father, and Johan thought that was just as well. They didn't need to do everything at once.
In the car on his way to Roma, he imagined how it would be to live in that house and drive home like this after work every day.
Home to Emma and the children. He was surprised at how wonderful he thought that would feel. To be part of a family. For someone like him who had lived all these years alone, it was a new feeling. Of course, he'd had some long-term relationships when he had practically lived with a girlfriend for certain periods of time, but it was never the real thing. He'd never shared a home with anyone else. And with the baby it was an even bigger deal. Something entirely different.
The idea of sharing his daily life with Emma in a real way appealed to him more than he ever could have imagined. He heard the clinking sound as the wine bottles in their state liquor store bags rolled back and forth. His stomach was growling. His mouth watered as he thought about the food that would be waiting for him on the table when he arrived. He had been longing so much to spend more time with Emma. To sleep with her and wake up together.
He automatically pressed harder on the gas pedal. Hopefully Elin would be awake so that he could hold her for a while before she went to sleep for the night.
Full of anticipation, he rang the doorbell, hiding behind his back the flowers he had bought.
When the door opened, he felt as if he'd been punched in the face. Emma was not the one standing there; it was her ex-husband. In his arms he held a howling and coughing Filip, whose face was purple with exertion.
'Hi. Come in.'
'Hi.'
Johan stepped into the hallway, feeling like an idiot.
'Congratulations, by the way. She's beautiful.' Olle tipped his head toward the back of the house.
For a moment Johan wasn't sure whether he meant Emma or Elin. 'Thanks.'
Emma appeared in the doorway. She gave Johan a quick hug and handed the baby to him. He still felt as if he were standing there with his mouth open, a little like a fish gasping for air. He didn't understand a thing.
'Things are kind of a mess. Filip has a terrible attack of the croup, and we have to take him to the ER. I can't take Elin along. One of us has to drive and the other has to hold Filip when he has a coughing fit. You'll have to take care of Elin and Sara. But I've used the breast pump, so there's milk that you can heat up in the microwave. Sara
