The Dangerous Game by Mari Jungstedt Read Free Book Online

the light vanished if Markus wasn’t even inside the cabin? Maybe the fire in the fireplace had died out, or the flame of a paraffin lamp had gone out on its own. But would he have left a light burning if he was going to leave the cabin? She didn’t understand.
    Raindrops were pelting the metal roof. Where was Markus? The most likely explanation was that he’d gone over to the hotel when he realized that she wasn’t coming to see him. In that case, she was all alone out here in the wilderness.
    That realization brought her to the verge of tears, but the next instant she got hold of herself. She was a big girl now; she could take care of herself. She considered her options. In reality, there were only two choices. She could cycle back to the hotel, take a hot shower, dry herself off and then crawl into bed. Then she would at least get a few hours’ sleep. But she shuddered at the mere thought of stumbling over the rough terrain in the dark and the rain.
    The alternative was to try to get inside the cabin. If Markus had gone over to the hotel, he would find her room empty and realize that she was here.
    She would need some sort of tool to pick the lock. She searched her pockets and found a pack of cigarettes and her lighter. She’d forgotten all about them. She lit a cigarette and inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs. She looked up at the ceiling and listened. It wasn’t raining nearly as hard. Thank God for that. She glanced at her watch. Ten minutes to one. This was insane. She had to be in make-up by six o’clock. She pushed that thought away; it was too stressful at the moment. She took another drag on her cigarette.
    Jenny rummaged through her shoulder bag. In her make-up bag she found her toothbrush and birth-control pills, as well as a couple of hairpins. To her great relief there was also a pair of tweezers. Now she should have a good chance of picking the lock. It seemed like a small and simple padlock. She opened the door of the latrine and tossed out her cigarette butt. The cabin was only a few metres away. She was wet and cold. All she wanted was to get indoors.
    She made her way back to the cabin and stuck a hairpin in the lock. She cursed as she twisted it in every direction, but the lock was stubborn and refused to budge. Then she tried the tweezers, wiggling them back and forth. Finally, with a little click, the lock opened.
     
    He was lying just inside the door, on his stomach, face down on the floor. She stared at his body in horror. She recognized Markus instantly, even in the dim light. With a sob she reached for a shelf near the door and found a box of matches. She struck a match and lit the paraffin lamp hanging close by on the wall. The minute the light filled the room, she screamed. He had a deep wound in the back of his head, and blood had gushed out on to the floor. The small cabin was a chaotic mess with things tossed all about, a toppled chair and smashed cameras littering the floor. Markus had big gashes in his arms and hands. There was blood everywhere.
    Panic-stricken and sobbing, she dug her mobile out of her bag. Her hands were shaking as she tapped in Maria’s number, but the call didn’t go through. Shit. That’s what the desk clerk had said. There was no signal out at the cabin.

THE CALL CAME into the police station at 1.17 a.m. A nearly incoherent woman spoke to the officer on duty. After it had been checked with the hotel owner out on Furillen, her confused report turned out to be true. The famous fashion photographer Markus Sandberg, who was working on a photo shoot there, had been found gravely injured in the cabin where he was staying. Sandberg had been assaulted with an unknown weapon, but he was still alive.
    An hour later, Anders Knutas and Karin Jacobsson were in the first vehicle to arrive at Hotel Fabriken. From there they were to be escorted to the cabin where Markus Sandberg had been found.
    As soon as they pulled into the gravel courtyard in front of the entrance,