"Incredible." Johan shook his head.
"Yes, isn't it? You used to be able to see a lot more of the boat. She seems to be rusting apart. It won't be long before she completely disappears below the surface."
For the time being they decided not to bother the police officers and walked up to the hotel entrance. They had made an appointment to meet with the manager, Kerstin Bodin. She was a slender, dark-haired woman who gave them a smile but looked tired.
They sat down in the outdoor section of the restaurant, with a view of the harbor. Pia didn't have the patience to sit still, so she went off with her camera.
"This is so unpleasant," said Kerstin. "Of course, it's not certain that anything awful has happened to her, but what if it has? I'm terrified that they're going to find her drowned out there. It's impossible to say what happened. She was apparently very drunk when she left."
"Do you know Martina?"
"We've talked a good deal. I've had more contact with her than with many of our guests. She's extremely nice. A very happy and open sort of girl. Her mother's from Gotland, you know. Martina has been to the island quite often."
"Where is her mother from?"
"Hemse. Both her mother and her grandparents are dead now, and Martina told me that she doesn't have any other relatives on Gotland. But she usually spends a week here every summer, on vacation."
"Do you know where she usually stays when she's here?"
"From what I understood, her family usually stays at the Wisby hotel. Apparently there's a special suite that they always reserve. She told me that her father knows the owner."
"I see. What's his name? Or her name?" Johan quickly added, realizing that he was in fact sitting across from a female hotel manager.
Kerstin smiled. "His name is Jacob Dahlen. We were in the same class in middle school."
"Maybe that's where Martina is."
"I don't think so," said Kerstin, shaking her head. "If so, why hasn't she called anyone? Surely she would know that everyone is worried."
"Yes, you're right," Johan agreed.
The link to the hotel owner in Visby was interesting. He would follow up on it later.
Kerstin took her cell phone out of the pocket of her linen shirt and punched in a number. When someone answered, she got up and went over to the railing that surrounded the restaurant area. She hopped up to perch on the railing as she talked. Sitting there and dangling her legs like that, she looked like a young girl. Johan instantly started thinking about his newborn daughter. In a few years she would be able to sit like that.
Kerstin came back to the table. "Jacob Dahlen doesn't know anything," she said. "He was shocked. He said he didn't even know that Martina was on Gotland."
Because of the photo torn out of a newspaper that Jacobsson had found under Martina's pillow, they decided to drive farther south to Frojel, which was about six miles from Warfsholm. They wanted to have a talk with the excavation leader, Staffan Mellgren.
At the church Knutas turned off from the main road and parked outside the former school building, which now contained a cafe and a small exhibition space with a display about the excavations.
A ladder led down to the dig area, and as they approached, they saw Mellgren walking among the students, who were hard at work. The ground had been divided into rectangles that were about a foot and a half deep. In several of the pits, portions of skeletons could be seen, along with other objects that Knutas had a hard time identifying. On a long table in the middle of the area lay folders, maps, and plastic bags marked with various labels. Mellgren had stopped and was writing some notes in a folder. He looked up when Knutas and Jacobsson greeted him. A tall, athletic man with thick, dark brown hair with a touch of gray, he had to be in his forties, Jacobsson guessed. His eyes were an intense brown, and she concluded that he was good-looking- more attractive than in the photos she had seen.
"We'd like to talk to you about the disappearance of Martina Flochten," Knutas began.
"Of course. Just a minute," said Mellgren. He turned to a younger woman in the next pit, asked her a question that they couldn't hear, and jotted down some illegible squiggles.
There were objects inside the plastic bags on the table-bone fragments or tools. Jacobsson exclaimed with surprise when she saw a bag containing a silver necklace and another with silver coins.
"What are you going to do with all this?" She turned to Mellgren, who now seemed to have finished writing his notes.
"Every item we find is documented." He gestured to the ground behind them. "These spaces are called pits. We divide up the ground to facilitate both the excavation and the documentation. The items we find are placed in a bag on which we record the exact location and time of the find, in which pit and at what depth. When the workday is over, we lock up everything in those carts you walked past on your way here. Later the material is taken to our office at the college, where it's sorted and examined. Finally it ends up in the Antiquities Room for storage."
"Could we sit down somewhere and talk?" asked Knutas.
"Of course."
Mellgren led them to a corner of the excavation area where there was a plastic table and a few simple chairs.
"How long have you been digging here?" asked Knutas after they sat down.
"You mean during this course? We're just starting our third week of excavation."
"So by now you've all gotten to know each other well, is that right?"
"Of course. We've spent an intense amount of time together."
"Also in the evenings?"
"Not always, but there are a number of evening lectures and other activities, and sometimes we eat supper together. My responsibilities as the leader don't end when the workday is over." Mellgren smiled.
"What do you think of Martina?" asked Knutas.
The excavation leader turned serious again. "She's very knowledgeable for someone so young. She knows a surprising amount about the Viking Age in particular. Other than that, she's a lively person with a lot of enthusiasm, which rubs off on the others. So she's definitely an asset to the group."
"What do you think about her disappearing like this?" asked Jacobsson.
"It's incomprehensible. I'm sure that she would have called if everything was okay. Now I'm worried that she's in some kind of trouble. I don't know how much longer we can keep digging if she doesn't turn up soon. The fact that she's missing has created an enormous sense of uneasiness among all of us."
"When was the last time you saw her?" Knutas looked at the excavation leader attentively.
"On Saturday, after we finished digging for the day. She rode home in the bus with the rest of the students, the same as usual."
"What time was that?"
"It was around four, I think. Everybody was going to the concert that evening, and they were in high spirits when they left here."
"You didn't go?"
"No. I stayed home with my family."
"I see." Knutas wrote something in his notebook. "Could you describe your relationship with Martina?"
"We get along well. As I said, she's doing a great job."
"And you don't have a more intimate relationship?"
"No, we don't."
Jacobsson took the newspaper clipping out of her bag. "We found this under Martina's pillow on her bed."
Mellgren glanced at the article. His face was expressionless. "What am I supposed to say?"
"Why do you think she had a picture of you under her pillow?" asked Knutas.
"I have no idea. And by the way, the article is about what we do in the course. It's not just about me."
"Do you think that it's out of devotion to her archaeological work that she keeps a photo of the excavation under her pillow?" Knutas's voice was heavy with sarcasm.
Mellgren shrugged his shoulders. "How would I know? I don't know my students very well."