The Double Silence by Mari Jungstedt Page B

that the chief ranger kept a sharp eye out for anyone who got too close to the nature preserves, whether it was canoeists or windsurfers, and he always reported them to the police. The darkening clouds looked threatening; the rain might arrive sooner than predicted. He looked up at the sky to try to determine how close the storm was now, but when his gaze reached the top of the cliff, he forgot all about focusing on his surfing. Jakob Ekström stood on his board as if paralysed. He would never forget the sight that met his eyes up there. The gruesome scene happened so quickly, taking little more than a few seconds, but it made such a strong impression on him that it became etched into his memory for the rest of his life.

IT WAS WELL into the morning by the time the friends from Terra Nova began stirring in their cabins down near the water. The first to appear was Beata, with her hair pulled into an untidy bun and her tall, slender body barely covered by a thin nightgown. She stretched luxuriously, yawned, and gazed out at the bay. The sea was rough and the wind had picked up. Thunderclouds were gathering, but the air was still warm. She made a quick trip to the toilet before walking down to the dock. There was no one around. Swiftly she slipped out of her skimpy garment and dived naked into the water. The cold slammed against her chest. She swam far enough out to be able to see the cliffs of the small island. On the horizon she could just make out the contours of Gotland. How strange to see my home island from this perspective, she thought. She turned around and saw Håkan coming down to the dock.
    ‘Good morning!’ she called. ‘Or maybe I should say good afternoon?’
    Håkan waved and then glanced up at the sky.
    ‘Isn’t it cold in the water? It’s going to start raining any minute.’
    ‘No, it’s great. Come on in and join me.’
    Quickly Håkan threw off his clothes, but he kept on his underwear.
    ‘Take it all off. You’re not shy, are you?’
    A slight hesitation, and then he stripped off his underwear and dived in. A few seconds later his head bobbed up from the water, and he was snorting like a seal.
    ‘Shit, it’s cold! You could have warned me!’
    ‘What do you mean?’ called Beata innocently. ‘There was I thinking you were a real Viking!’
    It started raining just as Andrea came down to the dock.
    ‘Good morning,’ she called, waving.
    ‘Good morning to you, sleepyhead. It’s already past eleven,’ shouted Beata.
    ‘I don’t know how I could sleep so long. I guess I was worn out from yesterday. I think I caught about thirty baby birds.’
    ‘Where’s Sam?’ asked Håkan.
    ‘He was gone when I got up. I thought he was out here with you.’
    ‘No, we haven’t seen him,’ said Håkan.
    ‘His painting gear is gone, so he must have gone out to paint. Not exactly great weather for it.’ She looked up at the sky. ‘Maybe it was better earlier. He’s probably sitting somewhere doing his artwork. But I don’t think he’ll be long. The storm is already here.’
    Beata and Håkan quickly got out of the water, and then all three of them ran for the cabins, hunching over as the rain suddenly came pouring down.
    John joined them as they were making breakfast in the kitchen of one of the cabins. Then they dashed over to the big common room in the old hunting lodge, which had been built in the late 1800s as a gathering place for the members of an aristocratic club dedicated to hunting hares on the island.
    They settled in front of the fireplace.
    ‘Oh, how cosy,’ sighed Beata contentedly, sipping at her cup of strong, hot coffee. ‘By the way, I have to tell you what happened yesterday after you’d all gone to bed. John and I decided to stay up for a while. It was hours after the last baby had dived off the ledges, and all the birds in the water had disappeared. But suddenly we heard a peeping sound coming from the bushes, and there was a lost guillemot hopping about right below the