woman, printing the words ‘Closed due to death of the proprietor’ on a piece of paper.
‘We’re planning to stay closed today,’ Eva Blom explained, giving them a forced smile. ‘I assume that Monika wouldn’t want us to try to conduct business as usual. Especially considering all the reporters who’ve been ringing, both yesterday and now this morning.’ She cast a glance at Pia, who was already in the process of filming the picture of Egon Wallin in the window.
Eva Blom was evidently fond of red. She wore a black jumper and skirt, with bright-red lipstick that looked good against her milky-white complexion. She looked up at Johan, her blue eyes staring at him from behind red-framed glasses. ‘What do you want?’
He introduced himself and Pia. ‘We’re doing a report on what happened, and we’d like to get your reaction, of course. You worked soclosely with Egon Wallin,’ he said, giving Eva Blom a solemn look. She was a short woman, barely reaching up to his shoulders.
‘As long as you don’t take any pictures,’ she said tersely. ‘I don’t want to be on TV.’
‘Unfortunately that’s the only way for us to report on anything, since we work for Swedish television,’ explained Johan. ‘Could we at least take some footage inside the gallery?’
Grenfors wasn’t going to be pleased that they hadn’t got more interviews. And Johan had stubbornly refused to comply with his boss’s request to get an interview with the new widow. There was a limit to what he would stoop to doing just for the sake of a good story.
D etective Inspector Karin Jacobsson was the person that Knutas cared about most at his job. They had worked together for fifteen years. She was an astute and skilled officer, but it was Karin’s personality that had drawn him to her from the very start. She was charming, lively and spirited; she always had an opinion about everything, and he’d never met anybody who was able to get to the point so fast. At least when it came to their work. She was a sweet, petite woman with dark hair and doe-like eyes. She spent much of her free time playing football, as was evident from her muscular physique. Her most remarkable feature was the gap between her front teeth, which was most apparent whenever she smiled or laughed. Karin almost always wore jeans and a shirt. In the summertime she would occasionally appear at work wearing a dress, causing a few raised eyebrows. She was thirty-nine but looked younger, and she was still single, at least as far as Knutas knew. If she was involved in a relationship, she was keeping it to herself, which was practically impossible to do in a small town like Visby. Her parents lived in Tingstäde, and she saw them now and then. There was something enigmatic about Karin that Knutas couldn’t work out.
Right now they were having coffee in his office, considering various motives for the murder of Egon Wallin.
‘It does seem strange that the artist and his manager would leave for Stockholm on the very morning of the murder, but there could be a perfectly reasonable explanation,’ said Jacobsson. ‘Maybe it was something they’d planned long before.’
‘Well, I hope we can get hold of them soon so we can hear what theyhave to say. We can’t dismiss the fact that it’s a damned odd coincidence for them to end up on the same plane as Egon Wallin’s biggest competitor. And a guy who had previously tried to get his mitts on Kalvalis.’
‘I agree. But how many flights to Stockholm are there on a Sunday?’ Jacobsson went on. ‘It may have nothing at all to do with the case. I think that first and foremost we need to ask ourselves why Egon Wallin went out in the middle of the night. What normal person goes home with his wife around eleven after a festive evening and then suddenly decides to take a walk? Besides, it was freezing cold on Saturday night. The only reason I can think of is that he went out to meet someone. A love tryst, to put it
‘We’re planning to stay closed today,’ Eva Blom explained, giving them a forced smile. ‘I assume that Monika wouldn’t want us to try to conduct business as usual. Especially considering all the reporters who’ve been ringing, both yesterday and now this morning.’ She cast a glance at Pia, who was already in the process of filming the picture of Egon Wallin in the window.
Eva Blom was evidently fond of red. She wore a black jumper and skirt, with bright-red lipstick that looked good against her milky-white complexion. She looked up at Johan, her blue eyes staring at him from behind red-framed glasses. ‘What do you want?’
He introduced himself and Pia. ‘We’re doing a report on what happened, and we’d like to get your reaction, of course. You worked soclosely with Egon Wallin,’ he said, giving Eva Blom a solemn look. She was a short woman, barely reaching up to his shoulders.
‘As long as you don’t take any pictures,’ she said tersely. ‘I don’t want to be on TV.’
‘Unfortunately that’s the only way for us to report on anything, since we work for Swedish television,’ explained Johan. ‘Could we at least take some footage inside the gallery?’
Grenfors wasn’t going to be pleased that they hadn’t got more interviews. And Johan had stubbornly refused to comply with his boss’s request to get an interview with the new widow. There was a limit to what he would stoop to doing just for the sake of a good story.
D etective Inspector Karin Jacobsson was the person that Knutas cared about most at his job. They had worked together for fifteen years. She was an astute and skilled officer, but it was Karin’s personality that had drawn him to her from the very start. She was charming, lively and spirited; she always had an opinion about everything, and he’d never met anybody who was able to get to the point so fast. At least when it came to their work. She was a sweet, petite woman with dark hair and doe-like eyes. She spent much of her free time playing football, as was evident from her muscular physique. Her most remarkable feature was the gap between her front teeth, which was most apparent whenever she smiled or laughed. Karin almost always wore jeans and a shirt. In the summertime she would occasionally appear at work wearing a dress, causing a few raised eyebrows. She was thirty-nine but looked younger, and she was still single, at least as far as Knutas knew. If she was involved in a relationship, she was keeping it to herself, which was practically impossible to do in a small town like Visby. Her parents lived in Tingstäde, and she saw them now and then. There was something enigmatic about Karin that Knutas couldn’t work out.
Right now they were having coffee in his office, considering various motives for the murder of Egon Wallin.
‘It does seem strange that the artist and his manager would leave for Stockholm on the very morning of the murder, but there could be a perfectly reasonable explanation,’ said Jacobsson. ‘Maybe it was something they’d planned long before.’
‘Well, I hope we can get hold of them soon so we can hear what theyhave to say. We can’t dismiss the fact that it’s a damned odd coincidence for them to end up on the same plane as Egon Wallin’s biggest competitor. And a guy who had previously tried to get his mitts on Kalvalis.’
‘I agree. But how many flights to Stockholm are there on a Sunday?’ Jacobsson went on. ‘It may have nothing at all to do with the case. I think that first and foremost we need to ask ourselves why Egon Wallin went out in the middle of the night. What normal person goes home with his wife around eleven after a festive evening and then suddenly decides to take a walk? Besides, it was freezing cold on Saturday night. The only reason I can think of is that he went out to meet someone. A love tryst, to put it
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