Mari Jungstedt - The Dead Of Summer

‘Why did she move here?’ asked Knutas.

He was just in the process of overtaking a long-distance tractor-trailer that seemed to go on and on, and he really couldn’t see far enough ahead. Kihlgård winced but went on with his report.

‘I suppose she moved here because she got married to Stefan Norrström.’

‘How did they happen to meet?’

‘I have no idea. All I know is that they were married last summer. And now they’re about to have a baby.’

‘OK. We’re almost there.’

Kyllaj was only ten kilometres from Slite, but its location seemed very remote, all the way out by the sea. Nowadays, it consisted mostly of summer visitors, but for centuries Kyllaj had been an important town because of its stone quarry and port. The harbour was lined with boathouses and piers. Towering above the houses that had been built on the slope leading down to the harbour and Valleviken was the bare, rocky cliff with its magnificent view of the sea and the islets Klausen, Fjögen and Lörgeholm. As far back as the seventeenth century, limestone had been heated in kilns here, and traces of them still remained.

The police cars drew a good deal of attention as they arrived, one after the other, disrupting the idyllic atmosphere.

The house that Stefan Norrström and his wife had built stood in lonely majesty high up on a huge plot of land that sloped gently down towards the water. Great expanses of lawn with carefully arranged shrubs and trees surrounded the big white limestone house. The land must have been passed down through the family , thought Knutas. The place looked much too aristocratic to belong to an ordinary sea captain.

After parking their cars at a safe distance, the officers spread out and surrounded the house. They were dealing with someone who had already killed twice, and it was impossible to know what awaited them.

Knutas and Kihlgård took the lead and crept up to the front door. Knutas rang the bell. Waited. No response. He rang the bell again.

They waited a moment longer. Knutas was sweating in the heat. The tension was also taking its toll. When nothing happened, he gave the order to go in.

One of the officers broke down the door, and they all stormed inside.

KARIN JACOBSSON WAS getting really desperate. She dozed off for a while, exhausted as she was, and by now very dehydrated. She couldn’t change position other than to move sideways a few inches. She did that now and then so that her body wouldn’t go completely numb. She wondered how long she’d be able to hold out. She started losing hope that anyone would ever find her. The boat still wasn’t moving, and she couldn’t hear a single sound from outside. She’d lost all sense of time and could no longer tell how long she’d been taped and tied up like some sort of package.

Her thoughts focused on Knutas. Why wasn’t he doing anything? By now he must have realized that she was on board. After all, she’d told him she would ring from the ship. Maybe the captain had fed him some lies that meant nobody was going to come to her rescue.

Strangely enough, she no longer needed to pee. It was as if her body was already in retreat. Turning off its functions, slowing down until it would gradually shut down completely. No, she shouldn’t be thinking like that.

It was pitch dark as she sat there with her legs tucked up and her arms held in front of her as if she were praying.

Suddenly she heard a thud. At first she thought she’d imagined it. Then there was another thud, and one more. Voices shouting. She repeatedly tried to throw herself against the wall to make some sort of noise, at the same time doing her best to slam her feet against the door.

Miraculously, she heard someone turning the lock outside. When the door opened, the light was so blinding she had to squint.

THE HOUSE IN Kyllaj was empty. They searched the garden and outbuildings as well but, obviously, the Norrströms had taken off. Knutas got out his mobile to sound the alarm, but before he could do that, it rang.

‘Hi, it’s Thomas,’ said Wittberg, his voice agitated. ‘We’ve just found Karin. She was tied up and locked in a cargo space on board the M/S Gotska Sandön . It was Stefan Norrström who knocked her out and threw her in there.’

‘Bloody hell! How is she?’ shouted Knutas.

‘She’s exhausted, but otherwise there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with her. Just very dehydrated. We’re in the car on our way to the hospital. What’s going on out there?’

‘We’re at the house in Kyllaj right now, but the place is deserted. I assume they’re going to try to leave the island, so I need to notify headquarters. I’ll talk to you later.’

‘OK, I’ll phone you after I drop Karin off.’

Knutas issued orders quickly to his colleagues. The airport had to be alerted, as well as the ferry system. Suddenly he noticed that Kihlgård had disappeared, but then he saw him coming out of the kitchen with a cordless phone in his hand.

‘I think we can forget about the airport. I checked the last number that was called, and it’s the number for a boat company called Destination Gotland. The next boat leaves at eight o’clock, which means in twenty minutes.’

FORTUNATELY, THE FERRY to the mainland hadn’t yet left the dock, but all 1,500 passengers were already on board. Not wanting to cause a panic, the crew had informed everyone that the delay was due to a minor technical problem that would soon be fixed. Only plainclothes officers boarded the ship. The ferry had two levels in addition to the car deck, and the police spread out to make their search.

Knutas and Kihlgård went to the information counter to get help checking the passenger cabins. The crew member behind the counter gave them four key cards that would serve as master keys.

Just at that moment, Knutas noticed out of the corner of his eye two people rushing towards him. He turned round and was surprised to see Wittberg and Jacobsson.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked Karin. ‘Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?’

Jacobsson looked worn out, but there was nothing wrong with her tongue.

‘Did you really think I was going to miss out on all the fun? I was just a little dehydrated. I poured about half a gallon of water down my throat on the way over here, plus an equal amount of juice. That should be sufficient.’

Wittberg threw out his arms. ‘She refused to go to hospital. What are we doing now?’

‘OK, well, we’ve spread out to search the ship. We’re almost positive that they’re on board. The whole terminal has been blocked off, so there’s no chance of them escaping. Now we just have to find them. Martin and I were just about to start checking the cabins.’

They each took a key card and split up. Jacobsson started with the cabins on the port side, one level up. She didn’t bother to knock, but just yanked open the doors.

‘Police!’ she shouted each time, her gun drawn.

The first cabin was empty; the second one was too. In the third, an elderly man was sound asleep. In the fourth cabin, some young guys were in the middle of playing cards and drinking beer. They stared in surprise at Jacobsson standing in the doorway. Then came a long series of cabins that all turned out to be empty.

Finally, she reached the end of the corridor. Only two cabins remained to be checked. By now she was out of breath, and her head was pounding. When she stuck the card in the door slot, the lock jammed. She tried several times without success.

Suddenly she heard a sound from inside the cabin. Someone was whimpering. It sounded like a half-stifled scream, as if someone were wearing a muzzle. Damn it all, she thought. She was alone on this level; her colleagues were on the deck below. She pulled out her mobile to ring Knutas. Shit, it wasn’t charged.