hullabaloo that always ensued whenever Martin Kihlgard was part of the group, and Knutas reluctantly had to admit that he missed his charismatic colleague. Even though Kihlgard frequently drove Knutas crazy, at least he was entertaining. Jacobsson politely greeted their newly arrived associates, but displayed what seemed like a deliberate lack of interest in talking to them. Knutas found that annoying. It wasn’t their fault that Kihlgard was ill.
In charge of the group was an inconsequential-looking man by the name of Rylander. Under his direction, they immediately set to work on the most pressing task: scheduling and recording the huge number of interviews. Some had already been conducted, but hundreds of others still needed to be done.
Viktor Algard’s two children were coming to the police station to be interviewed, but his wife couldn’t muster the strength to do the same. So the police would have to go to the Algard house. Knutas thought that was actually just as well. He wanted to see Algard’s home to get a better picture of what the man was like as a person. The police had already searched the house without finding anything of interest. The same could not be said of the victim’s flat on Hastgatan. In the bathroom the police had found perfume, a hair dryer and other feminine toiletries. In the bedroom were shoes and clothing belonging to a woman, but of course they might be his wife’s. Knutas had decided to wait to ask about these items until he could talk to Elisabeth Algard in person.
As soon as the morning meeting was over, Jacobsson and Knutas headed for Hamra to interview the widow.
First, however, they made a detour to Bokstromsgatan and parked in front of Knutas’s house.
‘I just need to run in and see Nils for a moment,’ he explained. ‘He stayed home from school because he had a stomach ache this morning.’
‘But isn’t he sixteen by now?’
‘Children still need their parents. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. They’re never too old for a little parental concern.’
Knutas gave her a wry smile as he opened the car door. Jacobsson made a choking sound, as if something had got lodged in her throat. Then she had a coughing fit.
‘Are you coming down with something too?’ Knutas asked.
He pounded his colleague on the back as tears ran down Jacobsson’s cheeks. Knutas looked at her in astonishment.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘It’s nothing,’ she told him. ‘I must have swallowed something the wrong way. That’s all. I think I’ll wait in the car.’
‘OK.’
The house was dark and silent. Knutas tiptoed upstairs so as not to wake Nils if he was asleep. Cautiously he opened the door. Nils was sitting at his desk next to the window with his back turned. His computer was on. Knutas saw at once the picture of Alexander Almlov that had been published in the newspapers.
‘Hi, Nils. How are you feeling?’
His son turned around with a start. His eyes were shiny with tears.
‘What are you doing at home?’
Knutas went over to Nils and placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. The boy was much too thin. That was something he’d been noticing for a while now.
‘I just wanted to look in on you. Mamma said you had a stomach ache.’
Knutas’s expression turned grim as he looked at the picture on the computer screen. The photo had been taken at Tofta beach in the summertime. Alexander, his face suntanned and his hair wet, was smiling at the camera. Now he lay in a coma.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked gently.
‘Nothing.’ Nils turned off the computer and went over to his bed to lie down. ‘Just leave me alone.’
‘But how are you feeling?’
‘Better. Nothing to worry about.’
He turned over to face the wall. Knutas sat down on the edge of the bed.
‘Are you thinking about Alexander?’
‘Why are you here, anyway? Don’t you have a lot to do because of the murder and everything?’
‘Yes, I do,’ sighed Knutas. ‘We’re on our way down to Sudret. Karin and I. She’s waiting in the car.’
‘So go. I’m fine.’
‘Shall I get you something? Are you thirsty?’
‘No.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yes. I said I’m fine.’
Knutas made his way back to the car, filled with anxiety. He had to find some way to reconnect with Nils.
They drove south, taking the coast road. It was a beautiful day with the springtime sun shining over the fields and meadows. The hides of the cattle gleamed as they grazed in the pastures. On the right-hand side of the road Knutas and Jacobsson occasionally caught glimpses of the sea, which glinted with promise. After the long and dreary winter, it was as if someone had lifted a hazy grey curtain that had been hovering over the island for months and now nature had come back to life. A few fiery red poppies were visible in places along the road, and suddenly summer didn’t seem so far away. The air was already warmer. Knutas rolled down the window.
‘Beautiful day,’ he said, casting an enquiring glance at Karin.
‘It really is.’
‘So how are things going?’
‘Fine, thanks.’
She looked at him and smiled. She had a relatively large mouth for such a narrow face. The big gap between her front teeth was particularly endearing.
‘We haven’t had much time to talk lately.’
‘No.’
‘You’ve seemed a bit down.’
‘You think so?’
Karin’s face seemed to close up. It was obvious that she didn’t want to discuss the topic. They continued driving south in silence.
Knutas looked out of the window again, wondering what could be weighing on her. He’d worked with Karin Jacobsson for more than fifteen years and she was his closest confidante. At least from his point of view. He told her everything, including any problems he experienced with his family. She was a good listener, always willing to offer encouragement and advice. But when it came to Karin’s own personal life, that was a whole different story. As soon as the conversation turned to her, she became guarded and silent.
A year ago Knutas had promoted Jacobsson to Deputy Detective Superintendent and second in command, which had stirred up some bad feelings at the station, even though most people were positive about her new role. Malicious comments were heard from a handful of older male officers who didn’t like being passed over for a much younger colleague who also happened to be a woman. Jacobsson’s petite stature hadn’t made it any easier for her to win their respect. The fact that she didn’t live according to the expected norms had also given rise to speculations. Although she was forty years old, she still lived alone with her cockatoo named Vincent. She devoted most of her free time to football, both as a coach and as a player in the women’s league.
‘Have you heard anything more about Kihlgard?’ Knutas asked, mostly just for something to say.
‘Yes. He was in Karolinska Hospital for a week, and they did a lot of tests, but he’s home now. The doctors don’t know what’s wrong with him.’
‘I didn’t even know that he was in hospital. What sort of symptoms does he have?’
‘He just generally doesn’t feel good. He’s suffering from nausea and dizziness.’
‘How long will it take to get the results of the tests back?’
‘A week or two.’
‘We should send him flowers.’
‘That’s a good idea.’
He glanced at Karin. She looked more tired than usual.
‘You know that you can talk to me if there’s something bothering you,’ he said. ‘I’m always willing to listen.’
