"Didn't anyone ever complain?"
"I think people chose to turn a blind eye. He was married, and he and Susanna kept having one child after another. I don't think his colleagues really knew how to handle the whole situation."
"How about you?"
"Staffan and I knew each other professionally, but we didn't discuss our personal lives. I never told him what I thought about his behavior. Maybe that was stupid, now that we're sitting here with the facts in hand."
"What do you mean?"
"I think we can assume that his murder has to do with his infidelities. At least that's what my colleagues are saying at the college."
"Do you know of anyone he used to socialize with when he wasn't working?"
"Not really. I don't think he spent much time with any of his work colleagues. Maybe he realized that people were aware of what he was doing and he felt ashamed. I have no idea whether he and Susanna had other friends."
Knutas left Bjarke's home
SUNDAY, AUGUST 1
The call came just as Knutas was nodding off on a deck chair out in the garden. He had spent the whole morning at the office without making any headway. By lunchtime he gave up and went home. He made himself an omelet and then went to sit outdoors, where he dozed off. He had only managed to sleep for five minutes before the phone rang. Startled awake, he picked up the phone.
"Hi, it's Jonsson out here at the airport."
"Yes?"
"We're out here, Ek and I, to meet Gunnar Ambjornsson. His girlfriend is here too."
"Yes?"
Knutas could hear how impatient he sounded.
"He's not here."
"What?"
"He wasn't on the plane from Stockholm like he was supposed to be."
"Are you sure that you didn't just miss him?"
"All three of us have been standing here the whole time. He couldn't possibly have slipped past us."
"What about the plane from Marrakech? Was he on board?"
"We don't know. We haven't checked yet."
"See that you do. Right away. Call me back as soon as you find out."
Knutas got up and went to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. Where the hell was Ambjornsson? Had he decided to stay in Marrakech?
When he came out the phone was ringing. Jonsson had been amazingly fast.
"He was on the plane from Marrakech. He checked in and went to the gate and showed his boarding pass, so we can be absolutely certain that he was on board. He must have disappeared somewhere between the international and domestic terminals at Arlanda airport in Stockholm. He never checked in for the Visby flight."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, yes, I'm sure. I checked with the airport staff."
"How could he just disappear like that?"
"I suppose he changed his plans. Things like that happen."
Knutas leaned back in his chair to think. Had Gunnar Ambjornsson suddenly decided to stay in Stockholm?
That was actually quite possible. Maybe he'd met someone on the trip who made him want to stay in the capital. Although, considering everything that had happened, it was disturbing that the man had disappeared.
Knutas punched in the number for the Stockholm police.
MONDAY, AUGUST 2
The weekend had turned out far better than expected, and Johan was feeling happier than he had for a long time when he arrived at the office on Monday morning. He and Emma hadn't done anything special. They had taken long walks, cooked good food, and relaxed in front of the TV. Just like a normal family. What he had enjoyed most was being able to spend time with Elin, both day and night. Waking up with her in the morning, feeding her, dressing and undressing her, changing her diapers. He realized how much he missed taking care of his daughter. Even though he had enjoyed the weekend, it also meant that he was going to make new demands. He was no longer going to agree to be shut out. If Emma didn't want him to move into her house, she would have to accept that he occasionally took Elin home with him.
One reason he felt so good after the weekend was that the first evening with Sara had gone rather well. He felt renewed hope that he might be able to function as a stepfather. He was looking forward to seeing both Sara and Filip again.
As usual, he started the day by talking to Grenfors in Stockholm. For a change the editor thought that Johan could take things easy if nothing special was going on.
Johan started by cleaning up his cluttered desk.
Pia drove off to get the car washed and serviced. In the meantime he went through all the piles of papers, throwing out most of them and putting the important ones in file folders. Dust flew everywhere. The place needed a good cleaning.
His attention was caught by a newspaper clipping from Gotlands Allehanda that had to do with the bold burglary at the Antiquities Room a few weeks earlier. Because of the two homicides, what would otherwise have been a big story had been virtually overlooked.
He called the police and asked to speak with the officer in charge of the case. He was put through to Erik Larsson. Johan told him what he was interested in.
"We're working on the burglary, but I'm sorry to say that we haven't made much progress," said the officer, sounding worried.
"Do you have any suspects?"
"I can't say that we do."
"Any leads?"
"Nothing that has made it possible for us to catch the thief."
"This type of burglary-has it happened before?"
"Not from the Antiquities Room, no."
"What can the perpetrator do with that gold armlet he stole? It must be hard to fence something like that."
"Either he'll keep it for himself, which is not very likely, or he'll sell it. We think this was a commissioned job, meaning that he already had a buyer. It could be a collector, maybe somewhere abroad. We know that Gotland's relics are often sold on the international market."
"What would that sort of armlet be worth?"
"Impossible to say. A collector could pay practically any amount. When it comes to coins, we usually say that an unusual silver coin in good condition from the Viking Age is worth around ten thousand kronor. So you can imagine what someone could get for a whole treasure trove with hundreds of coins. We know that there are hoards of silver that haven't been excavated yet. On average, one cache is still being found on Gotland every year."
"But why is so little being done about these thefts?" asked Johan in surprise. "It's not right that so many artifacts should keep disappearing from here without anyone reacting!"
"Of course we try to find the individuals who are stealing relics, but it's not easy. To be quite honest, I think one reason for the passivity of the police is that the perpetrators-if, contrary to all expectations, the case even gets to court-are given sentences that have virtually no impact. They're judged under the laws having to do with cultural relics. The sentences are so light that the police don't think it's worth spending a lot of energy on catching felons who will be back on the street after only a few months."
"Do you feel the same way?"
"I didn't say that, but it's difficult to track down these sorts of thieves unless you catch them in the act."
Johan thanked the officer and ended the conversation. He had been promised an interview within the next few days. He wanted to do some more checking on the thefts before he did a story. He called the switchboard at police headquarters and asked for a copy of all the police reports that dealt with ancient relics or archaeological finds during the past few years. The records clerk promised to fax over the reports as soon as possible. She didn't think there were more than ten at most.