Unknown

WEDNESDAY, JULY 28

When Knutas woke up the next morning, he was so anxious to see what the press had found out about the murder of Staffan Mellgren that he could hardly wait to get to the office. He said a silent prayer that the media hadn't gotten wind of the ritualistic elements this time, either. His cell phone had started ringing right after the story was reported on the evening broadcast of Regional News, when Johan Berg referred to several independent sources who had confirmed that the two murder victims had been having an affair. Out of pure self-preservation Knutas had turned off his cell after the third call. The police spokesman, Lars Norrby, was the only one who had to be available to the media. Knutas had had a long conversation with him last night, and they had agreed on what would be appropriate to reveal. Among other things, the police would not mention anything about a possible relationship between Martina Flochten and Staffan Mellgren. At 6:00 a.m. he listened to the financial news, which fortunately didn't mention anything about a ritual murder or a relationship between Martina and Staffan. Knutas sat down at his computer and looked up the online editions of the newspapers. When the front page of the evening papers appeared on his screen, he sighed.

At the top of both papers were two big photographs-one of Martina Flochten and one of Staffan Mellgren. On one of the papers a red heart had been drawn around the photos.

This can't be true, thought Knutas, as he clicked to move on. The big headlines worried him: killed for their love and police suspect jealousy drama. The articles that followed were full of endless speculations. Most of them were based on the Regional News report from the night before. It was disastrous for the investigation, and he silently wondered who had helped Johan Berg to track down this lead. Ignoring the fact that it was only six thirty in the morning, he punched in the reporter's phone number.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked tersely when he heard Johan's sleepy voice on the other end of the line.

"Who is this?" asked Johan defiantly.

"This is Detective Superintendent Anders Knutas, as if you didn't know. How could you broadcast sensitive information like that in your report last night without talking to me first? Don't you realize that you're sabotaging the whole investigation?"

"I can't very well be responsible for your investigation. I got the information confirmed, and it's of such great interest that of course we wanted to make it public. Two murders have occurred within a matter of a few weeks, and then it turns out that the victims were having a secret affair. People are terrified because the murderer is still on the loose. So of course the story was too important-it had to be told."

Johan held back his anger as he spoke.

"But don't you understand that it's going to have consequences for our work? How are we going to catch the perpetrator if confidential information comes out in the press every fifteen minutes? This isn't a game-we're talking about a double homicide, and in the worst-case scenario a serial killer who's on the loose!"

Knutas's voice was getting louder on the phone.

"Look, I'm just doing my job," said Johan calmly. "I can't sit on important information out of consideration for your investigative work. You take care of your business, I'll take care of mine. Unfortunately, I don't have time to talk to you any more about this right now."

To Knutas's great annoyance, Johan hung up.

He was shaking all over after the conversation, the phone still in his hand, when Lina came downstairs.

"Who are you talking to on the phone this early?" she asked, ruffling his hair.

"That damned journalist," said Knutas as he slammed down the receiver. He went to get his jacket, even though it was much too warm for it outside.

Lina came out into the hall as he was about to leave.

"Don't you want any breakfast?"

"I'll get some at work," he said, sounding annoyed. "Bye."

He left without giving her a hug. It was a lovely summer morning, but the only thing he noticed was the sun blazing down on his back. He realized that he was going to be sweaty again before he even got to the office, and he slowed his step. He now felt ashamed about his conversation with Johan. He should have behaved in a more professional manner; it was embarrassing. He didn't even recognize himself. Maybe it was being frustrated because they hadn't made any progress that had upset his composure. No, the fact was that he hadn't been himself for the past six months. Last winter's case had taken its toll, and he was having a hard time letting go of what had happened to him back then. His marriage was also suffering negative effects, even though things were basically good between him and Lina. He loved her, and she hadn't given him any reason to doubt her feelings. Knutas was dissatisfied with himself. It felt as if he'd taken a step back in his recovery, and that bothered him. He wasn't seeing his therapist during the summer, but he was thinking of calling her anyway. If she wasn't away on vacation, maybe he could go and see her.

That was at least one concrete step forward he had made. He was no longer afraid to ask for help.

When he arrived at police headquarters the corridors were already humming with activity. They had received additional reinforcements from Stockholm, and the group was clearly wide awake that morning.

Even Kihlgard was present. He was standing next to the coffee machine having a lively conversation with one of the female officers from Stockholm. He stopped talking when Knutas came walking past in the hallway.

"Good morning to you, Knutie."

Knutas returned the greeting. He had no desire whatsoever to engage in any social chitchat, and he was rescued by the appearance of Karin Jacobsson.

"Hi," he said to her. "I need to talk to you."

He took a firm grip on her arm. Jacobsson looked surprised but let herself be hustled along to Knutas's office.

"What's up?" she asked. "Has something happened?"

"No, nothing. Except that we've got a hell of a problem. Do you know about the information leaking out to the media? About the love affair between Martina Flochten and Staffan Mellgren?"

"It was really only a matter of time before it got out." She shrugged her shoulders.

"How can you take it so lightly?" Knutas had a hard time hiding his irritation.

"But my dear Anders." Karin gave him a sympathetic look. "What does it matter, really? Both of them are dead, and we can't do anything about that. Maybe the solution is a simple matter, and Susanna Mellgren is the murderer. Her alibi for the night of the murder is pretty weak. She was gone for more than four hours, according to her parents, and the only one who can vouch for her being at the pub is that bartender, Stefan Eriksson. Who knows whether he's telling the truth? Maybe they're in it together, or maybe he just wants to protect her. And her shoe size matches the prints at the scene of the murder. We have her under surveillance. Maybe she'll make a mistake all of a sudden, and then the case will be solved."

"What about the horses? How do you explain them?"

"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."