The Dangerous Game by Mari Jungstedt Read Free Book Online Page A

the owner came out to take them to the crime scene. He was a well-known figure on Gotland. He had once been a fashion photographer himself, but he’d left the profession to open the hotel in this isolated location. Knutas had met him several times before under various circumstances. Right now, he looked paler than usual.
    ‘Hi.’ He greeted them curtly. ‘The ambulance just left with Sandberg and that model, Jenny Levin. Damn, this is so awful. Follow me in your car. I’ll lead the way.’
    Before they could say anything, he jumped into an SUV and started up the engine. Knutas and Jacobsson dashed back to their car as Knutas shouted instructions to their colleagues in the other vehicles.
    ‘Sohlman, you come with us. And the dog unit, too. The rest of you stay here and take care of things in the hotel.’
     
    Several minutes later they parked as close as they could to the cabin. There they found a path that only a few people knew about. The rain had stopped, but the ground was muddy. As cautiously as they could, they made their way through the undergrowth. Their torches provided only scant light. They soon reached the remote cabin.
    Knutas peered inside the open door. The interior had been ransacked, and blood was spattered all over the floor and walls. Crime-scene technician Erik Sohlman came over to stand next to Knutas.
    ‘Jesus, what a mess. It won’t be light for hours. And it wouldn’t make any sense for us to start our technical work until then. We don’t want to risk disturbing any evidence.’ He ran his hand through the red mane of his hair as he looked around. ‘We should focus on catching the perpetrator. Whoever the madman is who did this.’

AN IMPENETRABLE DARKNESS had settled over the little community of Kyllaj, a lonely outpost with only six permanent residents located right on Gotland’s east coast. In the old days it had been a fishing village, but over the years it had become transformed into a summer paradise for tourists. There was a short sandy beach, a row of boathouses and a marina for small boats. Now that it was November, the hustle and bustle of the summer seemed a distant memory. The place was deserted. No shops, kiosks, or any other form of commerce. Only houses that had been closed up for the winter, standing there like abandoned stage sets waiting for the springtime sun and their owners to return.
     
    On the outskirts of the village was a larger house made of limestone that belonged to a local family. They had gone abroad, so the house had been rented out to an author who wanted to get away from civilization to write in peace and quiet. He couldn’t have chosen a better place. Kyllaj’s isolation suited him perfectly. He was thrilled when he discovered the advert in the newspaper: ‘Limestone house on Gotland for lease for an indefinite length of time. Modern amenities, located in Kyllaj. Sea view and large garden. Free rent in exchange for gardening and general maintenance.’ The timing couldn’t have been better. He had just gone through a difficult separation, and at the same time had been awarded a grant that he was planning to use to write his next book. He needed to get away from the city, away from his daily routines. He needed a quiet place to write. And the house had turned out to be exactly what he was looking for.
    The dog was his only companion. She never nagged him or interrupted, and she didn’t care when he ate or slept. She simply adapted to whatever he did. When he sat down in front of the computer for yet another writing session, she would obediently curl up under the desk, heave a big sigh and fall asleep. She was a quiet and undemanding companion who gave him constant and unconditional love. Thanks to her, he went out every day for long walks that helped him to clear his head while also getting some fresh air and exercise without needing to sweat. At night she lay at his feet, which he found comforting on those occasions when he felt too alone in this