EPILOGUE
The chapel stood in a secluded spot near the fishing village of Kovik on the west side of the island, about five miles south of Gnisvard.
It was built from Gotland limestone, with a single window like a porthole facing the cow pastures, the windswept boathouses, and the sea. The chapel had been dedicated to the memory of the men who had drowned at sea.
Leif Almlov came from a family of fishermen who for generations had fished the stormy Baltic along Gotland’s coast. That was where he was to be buried, in accordance with his last wishes. Only his immediate family were present.
Knutas sat in the back row of folding chairs that had been set up in the small space. He fixed his eyes on the flower-bedecked coffin in the front of the chapel as he pondered who Leif really was. Or rather, had become.
Everything seemed to have started with Fanny Jansson. Of course Leif had visited the stables on numerous occasions. This was confirmed by his father-in-law, with whom he shared ownership of the horse. That was where he had met the girl.
Then Leif had hired Dahlstrom to build the sauna out in the country, but the carpenter had discovered what Leif was doing with Fanny. Maybe Dahlstrom had spent the night there while he was working on the sauna and then saw something that he wasn’t supposed to see.
That was the beginning of the end for everyone involved.
No one had any doubts that Leif was the perpetrator. It was his fingerprints that had been found in Dahlstrom’s darkroom, in his apartment, and on the murder weapon. His hair and saliva were on Dahlstrom’s clothes, and on Fanny’s.
Several weeks had now passed since that fateful day out at Gnisvard, which had ended with Leif perishing in the flames. The reason for the powerful explosion was the cylinders of gas that were kept in the storeroom next to the sauna. They could have blown up the boathouse, too; only a few yards separated the two buildings. A nasty chill spread through Knutas’s body as he thought that his friend of twenty years might have been planning to blow him up. And what about Karin? The thought was inconceivable, but it was just as unbelievable that Leif could have murdered two people.
Leif’s remains had been found in the ashes under the burned-out sauna. Whether he had committed suicide, they would never know. Knutas’s thoughts turned again to Ingrid and the children. What sort of life was in store for them after all this? Was it even possible for them to go on?
And Fanny-she was just a child. Knutas felt a deep sorrow when he thought about the fourteen-year-old girl. She hadn’t even had a chance to begin her adult life. At the same time he was weighed down by feelings of guilt. He wondered how much his friendship with Leif had interfered, and to what extent it had blinded him. He was fully aware that in his position as head of the homicide team, he was ultimately responsible for the investigation.
Outside the chapel the local press had gathered along with a number of curiosity seekers. Knutas declined to answer any questions. He slipped away and stared out at the horizon.
Three seagulls were flying low over the surface of the water. The sea was unusually still, and the new year had begun.