Right now she just wanted some time to herself, an opportunity to regain some sort of balance and collect her thoughts. Luckily the children would be spending a couple of weeks at camp.
She was plagued by a feeling of listlessness. This time of year would normally be so glorious, but she was now a shadow of her former self. She had no energy. Just taking out the trash made her tired.
Emma raised her eyes to look at the clock on the wall. Almost eleven. Maybe I should put in a load of wash before going to bed. Pull yourself together, goddamn it, she thought angrily.
With her arms full of dirty laundry, she leaned down to put the clothes in the machine, then abruptly stopped what she was doing. The newscaster on the radio was reporting that a woman had been found murdered in the Visby cemetery.
SUNDAY, JUNE 17
When Johan and Peter climbed out of the cab in front of the Strand Hotel in Visby on Sunday afternoon, they were met by a cold gust. The wind had really begun to pick up. They had even felt the cab sway significantly as they drove in from the airport. Shivering, they dashed inside to the front desk. The fact that they were hungover wasn’t helping matters.
They were given the same rooms they had before. I wonder whether it’s a coincidence or if there’s something more to it, Johan thought as he put his card key in the door.
He called Knutas, who explained that they were inundated with journalists and that a press conference would be held at three o’clock that afternoon. He had nothing to say until then.
“You must be able to tell me something,” Johan persisted. “Was the woman murdered?”
Knutas’s voice was thick with fatigue. “Yes.”
“How?”
“I can’t tell you anything about how she was murdered.”
“What kind of weapon was used?”
“I can’t tell you that, either.”
“Has she been identified?”
“Yes.”
“How old was she?”
“Born in ’67, which makes her thirty-four.”
“Did she have any sort of previous dealings with the police?”
“No.”
“Is she from Visby?”
“Yes. That’s enough for now. You’ll have to wait until the press conference.”
“One last question. Did she go out to a pub that evening?”
“Yes, she was at the Monk’s Cellar with some of her girlfriends. They said goodbye to each other outside, and then she bicycled home alone.”
“So presumably she was murdered on her way home?”
“That’s one conclusion you might draw, yes,” said Knutas impatiently. “I don’t have any more time right now.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you at the press conference. ’Bye.”
Johan and Peter went over to the cemetery on Peder Hardings Vag to film the crime scene and try to find some-one willing to be interviewed. The place where the body had been found was cordoned off, but a short distance from there they found a police officer who was making sure that no one went inside the area. They tried to talk to him, but it quickly became evident that their attempts were in vain. The officer refused to answer any of their questions.
Johan strolled around the cemetery, trying to imagine what had happened, while Peter shot some footage. The woman had been bicycling home from the inn. Was that where she had met the killer? It was less than two weeks ago that Helena Hillerstrom was murdered. Her boyfriend had been charged, but if Johan’s source had understood the situation correctly, the police believed that the same perpetrator was at work here. That meant they were looking for a serial killer, who might strike again at any time. Here on little Gotland. Incredible.
His source was going to try to get more information. Even though the police believed it could be the same perpetrator, he doubted that he would be able to get that confirmed. Two women viciously murdered within a couple of weeks. Right before the tourist season. The police would be very keen to keep any information to themselves. He was rowing with calm, firm strokes. The oarlocks creaked. They needed to be greased. It had been a long time since he went out in the boat. Several years. He had repaired the hole in the bottom. Then he had dragged the boat down to the water. He knew where he was going. He would head out to the point. That would be a good spot. He had chosen it carefully. The idea came to him in the night. He had lain awake, thinking. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake he did before. He had lost control. Been giddy with a sense of triumph, mixed with fear. Surprised at himself and his power, the fact that he could actually carry out his plan. He was both proud and scared. Mostly proud. Now he felt a different sort of tranquility. He knew what he was capable of. This time they wouldn’t find the murder weapon. He was lucky the sea was so calm. He had considered bringing along a fishing rod so he would have an explanation if anyone happened to see him. But no, it wasn’t necessary. Who would care what he was doing in this boat? He didn’t owe anyone an explanation. To hell with all the people who had no idea what he was up to. To hell with the rest of the world. Nobody cared, anyway. Or understood. He was alone. He had always been alone. But now he was strong. The generous rays of the sun warmed him. He wore only a pair of shorts, rowing so hard that he was sweating. He looked down at his heaving chest, hairy and muscular. He could easily deal with this. He felt invincible. He laughed out loud. Only the seagulls heard him.
A tense mood hovered over the conference room of the criminal department at police headquarters. It was noon, and the lead investigators had gathered prior to the press conference to go over the latest information pertaining to the new homicide. The county police commissioner was present. She was sitting next to Knutas with her lips pressed tight. Sohlman, Wittberg, Jacobsson, and Norrby were seated on one side of the table, while on the other sat prosecutor Smittenberg together with Superintendent Martin Kihlgard and Bjorn Hansson from the NCP.
“We have a whole new situation now, and it’s very serious,” Knutas began. “It seems that we’re dealing with one and the same murderer. For that reason, Helena Hillerstrom’s boyfriend, Per Bergdal, is no longer under suspicion for killing her. Birger has decided that he can be released from custody immediately.”
The prosecutor nodded in agreement.
Knutas continued. “There are strong indications that the same perpetrator is behind both murders. There are similarities pointing in that direction. The women were attacked outdoors, and both had their panties stuffed in their mouths. On the other hand, the killer used different weapons each time, and, as I’m sure you all know, that’s extremely unusual for a serial killer. It’s the one thing that contradicts the likelihood that it was the same perpetrator. The first victim, Helena Hillerstrom, was killed with an axe. She died at the first blow to her head. After that the perpetrator delivered ten blows to various parts of her body in what seemed to be a fit of uncontrolled rage. But according to the ME’s preliminary evaluation, the second victim, Frida Lindh, died from a wound that severed her carotid artery. After that the murderer delivered a large number of stab wounds to various parts of her body. There are at least ten in this case as well. None of the blows was directed at her sexual organs. The murder weapon was some kind of sharp instrument, presumably a knife. It has not been found. As you know, Helena Hillerstrom was not sexually assaulted, and there are no indications that the second victim was, either. We won’t know for sure until the preliminary autopsy report on Frida Lindh is ready. It’ll take a few days. As I mentioned, both victims were found with their panties stuffed in their mouths. No trace of semen was found on the ones belonging to Helena Hillerstrom. Frida Lindh’s are being sent to SCL for analysis. Now let’s take a look at a few pictures.”