One reason he felt so good after the weekend was that the first evening with Sara had gone rather well. He felt renewed hope that he might be able to function as a stepfather. He was looking forward to seeing both Sara and Filip again.
As usual, he started the day by talking to Grenfors in Stockholm. For a change the editor thought that Johan could take things easy if nothing special was going on.
Johan started by cleaning up his cluttered desk.
Pia drove off to get the car washed and serviced. In the meantime he went through all the piles of papers, throwing out most of them and putting the important ones in file folders. Dust flew everywhere. The place needed a good cleaning.
His attention was caught by a newspaper clipping from Gotlands Allehanda that had to do with the bold burglary at the Antiquities Room a few weeks earlier. Because of the two homicides, what would otherwise have been a big story had been virtually overlooked.
He called the police and asked to speak with the officer in charge of the case. He was put through to Erik Larsson. Johan told him what he was interested in.
'We're working on the burglary, but I'm sorry to say that we haven't made much progress,' said the officer, sounding worried.
'Do you have any suspects?'
'I can't say that we do.'
'Any leads?'
'Nothing that has made it possible for us to catch the thief.'
'This type of burglary-has it happened before?'
'Not from the Antiquities Room, no.'
'What can the perpetrator do with that gold armlet he stole? It must be hard to fence something like that.'
'Either he'll keep it for himself, which is not very likely, or he'll sell it. We think this was a commissioned job, meaning that he already had a buyer. It could be a collector, maybe somewhere abroad. We know that Gotland's relics are often sold on the international market.'
'What would that sort of armlet be worth?'
'Impossible to say. A collector could pay practically any amount. When it comes to coins, we usually say that an unusual silver coin in good condition from the Viking Age is worth around ten thousand kronor. So you can imagine what someone could get for a whole treasure trove with hundreds of coins. We know that there are hoards of silver that haven't been excavated yet. On average, one cache is still being found on Gotland every year.'
'But why is so little being done about these thefts?' asked Johan in surprise. 'It's not right that so many artifacts should keep disappearing from here without anyone reacting!'
'Of course we try to find the individuals who are stealing relics, but it's not easy. To be quite honest, I think one reason for the passivity of the police is that the perpetrators-if, contrary to all expectations, the case even gets to court-are given sentences that have virtually no impact. They're judged under the laws having to do with cultural relics. The sentences are so light that the police don't think it's worth spending a lot of energy on catching felons who will be back on the street after only a few months.'
'Do you feel the same way?'
'I didn't say that, but it's difficult to track down these sorts of thieves unless you catch them in the act.'
Johan thanked the officer and ended the conversation. He had been promised an interview within the next few days. He wanted to do some more checking on the thefts before he did a story. He called the switchboard at police headquarters and asked for a copy of all the police reports that dealt with ancient relics or archaeological finds during the past few years. The records clerk promised to fax over the reports as soon as possible. She didn't think there were more than ten at most.
While he waited, Johan made coffee. He was puzzled by the nonchalance displayed by the police regarding the thefts. He happened to think it was terrible that cultural treasures were being offered on a lucrative market and disappearing-not just from the island of Gotland but from Sweden as a whole.
He rushed over to the fax machine when it started whirring. There were only seven reports. One had to do with the most recent burglary at the Antiquities Room. The rest concerned similar thefts from the antiquities warehouse and from various excavations.
One report caught his interest. A necklace had disappeared from the excavation at Frojel. The police report was dated Tuesday, June 29. The stolen item was an amber necklace with silver settings. It had been found in the earth on the previous day by the person who filed the report. She had put the necklace in a bag that was placed inside a box in one of the carts that stood lined up a short distance away from the excavation site. That was where the archaeologists stored their finds along with a computer and various tools and implements. When the person who filed the report went to look at her discovery the next day, it was gone. No one could explain how it had happened. The cart had been locked up for the night, and the lock was undamaged.
The person filing the report was named Katja Ronngren. Johan thought he recognized the name and began searching through his notes. He found the list of people who had participated in the same excavation course as Martina. Sure enough, there was the name.
Katja Ronngren was one of the students who had left the course after Martina's death.
She lived in Goteborg. Johan tried different information services until he tracked down her phone number. He called her up at once. He introduced himself and explained what he wanted to know.
'This is Katja's mother,' the woman said. 'Katja's not here.'
'This is very important. How can I get hold of her?'
'Katja's on Gotland.'
'But she left the course several weeks ago, didn't she?'
'She was only home for a couple of days. Then she went back to try to finish it after all.'
'Have you heard from her since then?'
'Several times. She said that she couldn't stay at the youth hostel because it was booked up. So she's staying with some friends in Visby. You can call her on her cell. Do you want the number?'
They had checked the passenger lists from Destination Gotland without result. Ambjornsson had apparently not changed his mind and taken the boat instead of the domestic flight.
A large number of people had been questioned, but it had given them no leads. Knutas's colleagues from the NCP were extremely capable, but they hadn't come up with anything new, either. And Agneta Larsvik had been forced to take on another case back in Stockholm.
After the eight o'clock meeting, Knutas decided to leave police headquarters and follow in the footsteps of the murderer on his own. He told the switchboard that he'd be gone for several hours. Then he got into his old Benz and chugged off. The weather kept changing. It had rained during the night, and clouds were gathering in the sky in dark, threatening clusters as he drove south along the coast road. Right before Klintehamn he turned off at Warfsholm and parked outside the hotel. The place was deserted. The tourists had no doubt gone into Visby since the weather was bad.
He went up to the hotel porch and sat down at the same table where Martina and her friends had sat just over a month earlier. A chill wind was blowing, and it had started to drizzle. The water was gray, and from the harbor he could hear the machines roaring. It was far from the vacation paradise that he had encountered when he was last here with Karin Jacobsson. He stood up and looked toward the path that led to the youth hostel. That was where young Martina Flochten had presumably met her killer. Why in that particular spot?
He strolled along the pathway, heading in the same direction that Martina had taken, and then stopped in the middle, where the willows on either side formed a tunnel. They sheltered him from both the wind and the rain. Somewhere along here she had been attacked. Then the perpetrator must have dragged her across the parking lot to the lawn with the juniper bushes and finally down to the water where her ring was found. Knutas continued on, taking the route that he imagined the killer had taken. On this side of the shore he would have been well hidden from view, so no one would have bothered him. After he drowned her, he must have stuffed the body into his car and driven away. Knutas stood still and looked around for a moment. Had they arranged to meet? Did Martina have a secret that was not linked to any romantic involvement? During her stay in Sweden, had she gotten to know someone without anyone else finding out about it?
The investigative team had exhausted all possibilities with regard to the excavation course and the college.
