Unseen by Mari Jungstedt Read Free Book Online Page A

sight. Sohlman had reported finding several tracks from shoes down on the beach. They had secured the shoe prints left by Helena; the others found at the crime scene must belong to the killer. Bloodstains and marks on the ground revealed that she had been murdered on the beach and then dragged into the grove of trees. The crime techs were working intently inside the restricted area. Everything of interest that they found in connection with the crime scene would be sent to SCL—the Swedish Crime Laboratory—in Linköping for analysis.
    He came to the end of the beach without noticing anything special and started back. All indications were that the murderer had killed the dog first. Of course, that had to be the case. It had been a good watchdog, so naturally he was forced to kill it. If the dog didn’t know him, that is. Otherwise it was a whole different story. The perpetrator could have been an acquaintance of the victim. That was most often the case with a murder. Knutas had a strong feeling that the boyfriend wasn’t guilty. That was his personal theory, and for the time being he was keeping it to himself. One of the people at the party seemed most likely. Kristian Nordström?
    He was the only one Knutas hadn’t yet talked to. The interview was scheduled for the following day.
    Knutas didn’t believe it was a coincidence that Helena Hillerström had been murdered, that she just happened to come upon a killer carrying an axe on this calm stretch of beach several weeks before the start of the tourist season. The murder had the mark of rage, which was often associated with revenge. That didn’t necessarily mean that it had to do with Helena. It could be revenge on women in general.
    By this time Knutas had returned to the place where he started his stroll on the beach, without being any the wiser.
    There were almost no cars on the road. It was past nine o’clock, and Johan and Peter were on their way south. On both sides of the road, the landscape stretched out flat in the glow of the morning sun. On the right side, they occasionally caught a glimpse of the sea, while on the left, cultivated fields alternated with meadows.
    Herds of livestock were grazing in the green meadows. Johan wondered why the sheep on Gotland were black while almost all the cattle were white. On the mainland it was exactly the opposite: white sheep and black or brown cows.
    They passed the Tofta artillery range and Tofta Church with its wood-covered tower before they slowed down through the little village of Västergarn and drove past the larger town of Klintehamn.
    After several miles they came to Fröjel’s white-plastered church, which stood by the road. From here they could see the water much more clearly. A few brown horses were trotting around in a yard. The fields of grain took on still more shades of green. Down near a strip of woods close to the sea, they caught sight of police cars and tape cordoning off the area. They parked next to the other vehicles.
    Knutas was engaged in a conversation with a female colleague. He glanced up as they approached. He would give them an interview in fifteen minutes, he explained, and they were not allowed to go inside the restricted area.
    An area that looked to be several hundred square yards had been blocked off. Johan gazed out at the strip of woods, the sand dunes, and the sea. So it was in this beautiful, idyllic spot that the bestial murder had occurred. He wondered how it happened, and whether the woman who was killed had enough time to be scared.
    They walked down to the beach. Inside the restricted area, a couple of police officers, most likely technicians, were walking around and staring at the ground. Now and then they would pick up something and then put it inside a plastic bag.
    Was it the boyfriend who had sneaked up on her and murdered her so viciously? thought Johan. He had been arrested, after all. At the same time, experience told him that occasionally the prosecuting attorney would