Unknown

SUNDAY, JULY 25

The summer heat made people slow their pace, and Knutas was forced to change shirts several times a day. His thoughts flowed like sluggish syrup, often straying far away. The chances of the investigative team finding a solution to this unusual case seemed more remote than ever.

Lina and the kids had gone out to the country, but he couldn't stand the idea of sitting there twiddling his thumbs.

It hadn't rained a single day since early June, but that didn't make him any less irritable. He was in a wretched mood, and when the phone rang he barked an angry hello.

"Hello, my name is Susanna Mellgren," said the voice on the line.

"Yes?"

"My husband, Staffan Mellgren, is in charge of the excavation in Frojel," the woman explained.

"Oh, right," Knutas hurried to say. He hadn't immediately made the connection.

"He didn't want me to call, but I felt that I had to."

"Yes?"

"The thing is that yesterday evening we found a very odd thing outside our chicken coop."

"Is that right?"

"It was a horse's head stuck on a pole."

Knutas snapped to attention.

"Someone put it there during the evening. Staffan found it when he came home from work."

"What did it look like?"

"It was stuck on a really heavy wooden broomstick. Actually I don't know what kind of pole it was, but on the very end someone had wedged a severed horse's head. It was from a real horse."

"Where was this pole?"

"We have an old barn that is partially used as a chicken coop. It was standing outside the door, leaning against the wall-in full view."

"When did this happen?"

"Last night."

"And you didn't call until now?"

Knutas looked at his watch. It was two fifteen in the afternoon.

"I'm sorry, but Staffan didn't want to tell anyone. He said it would just upset the children for no reason. He didn't want to make a big deal about the matter. In fact, it doesn't seem to have bothered him at all. As if it wasn't important. But I happen to think that it's awfully disgusting, so I felt that I had to contact the police, regardless of what he said."

"It's good that you called. Is the horse's head still in the same place?"

"No. Staffan drove a short distance away and threw it into a ditch. He didn't want the children to see it. They don't even know that anything happened."

"Do you know where?"

"Yes, I actually went out there to have a look. I covered it with some grass and branches so no animals would destroy any evidence."

"We need to drive out there and look at it, of course. Right away."

"Okay. Staffan left this morning and said that he was going to be gone all day. He refused to tell me where he was going. I'd prefer it if he doesn't find out that I called you."

"I'm afraid that's probably impossible," said Knutas. "We're in the midst of investigating an earlier crime against a horse, as well as the case of the young woman who was murdered-the one who was a student in your husband's course. There seem to be too many points of connection for us not to link these cases together. I hope you'll understand."

"I guess so," said Susanna Mellgren, sounding resigned. "But what does Staffan have to do with all this?"

Knutas didn't answer the question.

Knutas, Erik Sohlman, and Karin Jacobsson all rode in the same car up to Larbro.

The farm was located a mile or two outside town. It consisted of a farmhouse, a smaller wooden building that appeared to be some kind of workshop, and a barn. About two dozen hens were strutting around, pecking at the yellowed summer grass.

Susanna Mellgren opened the door at the first ring of the doorbell. A big woman with short black hair, she was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Knutas thought her beautiful with those dark eyes and that olive complexion. She can't be a hundred percent Swedish, he had time to think before she held out her hand and greeted him.

"Could you show us where you found the pole with the horse's head?" he asked.

"Sure, it's this way."

She led the way over to the barn. The hens clucked and flocked around her.

"It was right there, next to the door to the chicken coop," she said, pointing at the wall.

"You haven't seen any strangers around here lately?"

"No, and neither has Staffan. I asked the children, a bit cautiously, of course, because they actually have no idea about what happened, but they don't seem to have seen anything unusual, either. Whoever put the horse's head there must have done it sometime between eight and nine o'clock last night. Just before eight I called the kids inside- they'd been out playing-and at that time I didn't see anyone. Then Staffan came home right after nine o'clock."

"Good," said Knutas, offering her encouragement as he took notes. "The narrower the time frame, the easier it will be for us. There's one thing that I want to say right from the start. Don't tell anyone about this. It's important that not a word gets out. Especially for the sake of the children."

"Of course," said Susanna Mellgren hesitantly. "Although my mother…"

"That doesn't matter, as long as she keeps it to herself. So where is the horse's head?"

"It's kind of a long walk," she said.

"We'd better drive. We're going to take the head with us," said Sohlman.

"Really?" She looked doubtful, and a new anxiety appeared in her eyes.

"Of course. It has to be properly examined. When we compare samples from the head with the decapitated horse's body, it may help us to solve the case, if things go our way," Sohlman explained pedantically.

"Before we drive over there, I'd just like to have a look inside your house. Would that be all right?" asked Knutas.

"Yes, of course."

Susanna Mellgren showed them in. The house had an old-fashioned feel to it with oiled wood floors, unpainted furniture, and a mostly white decor, which created a bright and cozy impression. The wide window ledges were filled with earthenware pots and wooden and ceramic sculptures of various sizes. Clothes, balls, and toys were strewn everywhere. In the kitchen sat an elderly woman reading from a book of fairy tales to a child sitting on her lap. The woman glanced up and greeted them with a friendly nod when the three detectives appeared in the doorway.

"This is my mother," Susanna explained. "She's here to help me with the kids today."

They took two cars. Jacobsson drove with Susanna Mellgren in the first one, while Sohlman and Knutas followed in the second.

After half a mile on the paved road that took them even farther away from Larbro, they turned onto a bumpy tractor path. Susanna stopped the car next to a field and a cluster of trees. There was a ditch next to the path. She climbed down in the ditch and started removing grass and branches.

Knutas and Sohlman immediately joined her to help. Jacobsson chose to stand on the side of the road to watch. She had a hard time coping with the sight of dead bodies, whether animals or people. She had foolishly believed that she would eventually get over it, but instead it had gotten even more difficult over the years. The more bodies she saw, the more unbearable it became.

When the head was uncovered, they climbed out of the ditch and stood on the road to look at it.

"There's no doubt about it. Or what do you think?" said Knutas.

"It's obvious that it's a pony, and it definitely looks like it belongs to the horse's body out at Petesviken," said Sohlman.

"It's extremely well preserved," murmured Jacobsson through the handkerchief she held pressed to her mouth. "And it doesn't smell much, does it?"

"No, it's been frozen, just like the horse's head at Ambjornsson's house."