If it wasn't Mellgren's infidelities that had motivated the murders, then what had? And why the strange way in which they were carried out?
The question was whether the killing was now over. One factor indicated that the perpetrator planned yet another murder, and that was the horse's head at Gunnar Ambjornsson's house. Ambjornsson was still out of the country, but he was expected home on Sunday. Knutas decided to call him up to warn him. He found the number and was surprised to see how many digits there were. Ambjornsson had said that it might be hard to reach him. He had left his cell number. He couldn't provide the name of a hotel because he would be traveling the whole time. Knutas didn't get through; he got only a strange tone when he punched in the number. After several more attempts he gave up. He'd try again later.
That evening he and Lina made love for the first time in ages. Even though their love life usually blossomed during the summer, his sex drive had been virtually nonexistent lately. He'd been unusually tired, and when Lina asked him what was wrong, he had blamed the investigation for wearing him out. Deep inside, though, he was suffering from a feeling of anxiety that he couldn't get rid of. He had tried to contact his therapist without success, so he would have to wait until his appointment in August. From day to day he functioned more or less normally, but he didn't feel his usual sense of joy. He was thinking and moving like a sleepwalker. It was like being in a dream when you're running but your legs feel heavy and sluggish and you never get anywhere. He had the same feeling in his daily life. He had no energy for anything except what was absolutely necessary. Lina had also pointed out that he had gotten quieter and duller, as she put it. She sometimes asked him why he couldn't be happier. Knutas had no good answer to the question.
FRIDAY, JULY 30
It was Friday night, and Johan and Pia were finished with their evening report. Johan was eager to leave the editorial office. He was going over to Emma's house, and she had asked whether he'd like to stay overnight. As if she even had to ask.
She was going to cook dinner for him since he wouldn't be able to get away until around seven. Sara and Filip were staying with their father, and Johan thought that was just as well. They didn't need to do everything at once.
In the car on his way to Roma, he imagined how it would be to live in that house and drive home like this after work every day.
Home to Emma and the children. He was surprised at how wonderful he thought that would feel. To be part of a family. For someone like him who had lived all these years alone, it was a new feeling. Of course, he'd had some long-term relationships when he had practically lived with a girlfriend for certain periods of time, but it was never the real thing. He'd never shared a home with anyone else. And with the baby it was an even bigger deal. Something entirely different.
The idea of sharing his daily life with Emma in a real way appealed to him more than he ever could have imagined. He heard the clinking sound as the wine bottles in their state liquor store bags rolled back and forth. His stomach was growling. His mouth watered as he thought about the food that would be waiting for him on the table when he arrived. He had been longing so much to spend more time with Emma. To sleep with her and wake up together.
He automatically pressed harder on the gas pedal. Hopefully Elin would be awake so that he could hold her for a while before she went to sleep for the night.
Full of anticipation, he rang the doorbell, hiding behind his back the flowers he had bought.
When the door opened, he felt as if he'd been punched in the face. Emma was not the one standing there; it was her ex-husband. In his arms he held a howling and coughing Filip, whose face was purple with exertion.
"Hi. Come in."
"Hi."
Johan stepped into the hallway, feeling like an idiot.
"Congratulations, by the way. She's beautiful." Olle tipped his head toward the back of the house.
For a moment Johan wasn't sure whether he meant Emma or Elin. "Thanks."
Emma appeared in the doorway. She gave Johan a quick hug and handed the baby to him. He still felt as if he were standing there with his mouth open, a little like a fish gasping for air. He didn't understand a thing.
"Things are kind of a mess. Filip has a terrible attack of the croup, and we have to take him to the ER. I can't take Elin along. One of us has to drive and the other has to hold Filip when he has a coughing fit. You'll have to take care of Elin and Sara. But I've used the breast pump, so there's milk that you can heat up in the microwave. Sara hasn't had any dinner, either. I'll call you from the ER. Bye."
Before Johan had time to react, Emma, Olle, and Filip had disappeared down the gravel path. He stood there at a loss, staring after them as the car roared off.
Consequently, the night turned out a lot different than he had expected. Instead of enjoying a dinner with a bottle of good wine and having a romantic evening with Emma, he was left alone with the children for the first time. There's no problem with Elin, but what the hell am I going to talk about with an eight-year-old? he thought a bit desperately as his stomach churned with hunger. He put Elin in the baby buggy, which stood in the hallway, and she promptly started to howl.
"Just for a little while, sweetie," he assured her as he felt the first signs of a headache. In the fridge he found a plastic bag with something he guessed was marinated chicken breasts, but he had no idea what to do with them. There wasn't much else. The same thing with the freezer. What were they going to eat? They had to have food. He took out a little plastic package containing breast milk and put it in the microwave to thaw it out. He called Sara but got no response, so he picked up Elin and started walking through the house to look for her. Johan had met Sara and Filip several times for brief periods, but Emma had always been present. Right now he felt awkward and unprepared, and the fact that Elin was bawling nonstop didn't make the situation or his headache any better. To top it all off, the puppy kept leaping around his feet. Johan was terrified that he might trip over the dog and drop Elin on the floor. At the moment his brain had stopped functioning. He couldn't for the life of him remember the name of the dog.
Finally he found Sara under the table in the living room.
She didn't notice that he had found her, and for several seconds he didn't know what to do. Then he leaned down so that he was almost lying under the table with Elin in his arms. The dog was so delighted that he could hardly restrain his joy. He eagerly licked Johan and Elin all over. Elin started howling again.
"Hi," Johan said to Sara, who made a big show of covering her ears.
What a great start. After a long workday, he didn't have even a drop of energy to deal with a screaming baby, a hysterical puppy, and a recalcitrant eight-year-old-and all on an empty stomach. He was the type of person who couldn't wait too long to eat. If he did, his blood sugar would drop drastically, and he would be in a terrible mood.
But he now realized that he would have to put himself and his own needs last. He tried asking Sara whether there was a pizzeria in Roma. She just kept her hands pressed over her ears. Then he put the screaming Elin on Sara's lap and let go. Instinctively she took down her hands to hold the baby.
"Hi there. I'm hungry," said Johan. "I was thinking of ordering a pizza. Would you like some?"