“She’d spent some time in Kos recently, hadn’t she?” Persson asked, leaning forward to grab a cookie.

“Yes. She asked for a four-month leave of absence on very short notice,” Thomas said. “The casino where she worked was due to be renovated at the same time, so her employer was happy to agree. Otherwise they would have had to find her a temporary post elsewhere because she had a permanent contract with them.”

“I’m just wondering whether there might be some connection between her place of work and her cousin’s. Neither the gambling world nor the alcohol trade are exactly whiter than white,” Margit said.

Thomas leaned forward so that she could hear him more clearly. “What are you thinking, Margit?”

“Krister Berggren worked for Systemet. I’m just wondering whether there might be a link there. Something to do with smuggling booze or drugs, perhaps? Possibly with a Greek angle?”

“Or the former Yugoslavia.” Kalle straightened up, his face slightly pink with the excitement of having spoken up. “The Yugoslav mafia might be mixed up in this.”

“I think that might be taking things a little far,” Margit said, “but what if Krister Berggren was involved in something illegal at Systemet, and his cousin was helping him out? He could have been dragged into something. Or perhaps he was trying to put an end to it. Kicki Berggren might have known about whatever it was or been mixed up in it, too. I mean, a great deal has happened within Systemet in recent years that wouldn’t stand up to close scrutiny.”

“Some illegal scheme that meant he had to go over to Sandhamn, then she followed him,” Kalle chimed in.

“Something along those lines,” Margit said. “Thomas, you met her—what was your impression of her?”

Thomas closed his eyes and thought about Kicki. The image of a lonely, disappointed woman with good intentions came to mind. They had talked for about half an hour. She had seemed genuinely upset about her cousin’s death. And surprised. “She said they were close, but she hadn’t spoken to Krister once during all the time she’d been in Kos. They didn’t seem to have had any contact for months. I found a postcard from her in his apartment, asking him to call her.” Thomas flipped through his notebook to refresh his memory. “I didn’t really get a satisfactory explanation as to why they hadn’t been in touch. We started talking about his mother’s death instead; evidently Krister had taken it very badly. It seemed to be a possible explanation for suicide.” He fell silent for a moment. “I should have asked more questions.”

Persson leaned back in his chair, which creaked in protest. His thighs spilled over the edges of the seat, and his round face was tanned by the summer sun. “If we assume for a moment that this involves smuggling, what would that have to do with Sandhamn?”

“Wasn’t there some drugs case out there years ago?” Margit asked.

Thomas glanced around the table at his colleagues. “There was. I was only a little boy at the time, but there was a hell of a fuss. The Yacht Club restaurant was owned by a notorious guy named Fleming Broman. It turned out he had been spending his days serving food and his nights peddling drugs. It was a huge scandal, and the drugs squad was out in full force when they finally realized what was going on.”

Thomas recalled the placards outside the newsagent’s on his way home from school, the thick black headlines.

And now it was happening again.

“Do you think we could be looking at another drugs case?”

“It’s more likely to be booze,” Persson said. “If there was a way into Systemet via Krister Berggren, his cousin could have been involved as well. But that still doesn’t answer my question about the link with Sandhamn.”

Margit’s voice came from the speakerphone again. “Let’s assume Kicki Berggren knew her cousin was involved in smuggling alcohol to or from Systemet in some way. She comes home and finds out he’s dead. If she knows who his contact is, perhaps she decides to go and see him, either to exact revenge or to demand money, which is far more likely. If this person has property on Sandhamn, it would be logical to go over there, wouldn’t it? It’s the middle of summer, after all, and that’s also where her cousin’s body was found. And if this contact person murdered Krister because he was afraid of being exposed, then he might have killed Kicki as well.”

Thomas linked his hands behind his head and gave the suggestion some thought. “Kicki’s stay in Greece might be totally irrelevant, but the trip to Sandhamn is key,” he said. “In which case, Krister Berggren might have been found on the western shore because he too went over to Sandhamn to meet his accomplice over Easter, when he disappeared.”

“A meeting that somehow went wrong,” said Margit.

Thomas went through his notes from his conversation with Krister’s boss at Systemet, a balding man of about fifty by the name of Viking Strindberg. He hadn’t had much to say, in spite of the fact that Krister had worked there for almost thirty years.

He hadn’t regarded Krister as being particularly talented or bright. He had described him as a restless soul who thought life had treated him unfairly. He had confirmed that Krister had taken his mother’s death very hard and had started drinking heavily. His mother had also worked at Systemet all her life, but Strindberg had never met her. She had worked at the branch in Farsta, if he remembered correctly.

“I spoke to Krister’s boss last week,” Thomas said. “Krister’s main role was receiving deliveries at their big depot outside Stockholm. It wasn’t a particularly demanding job, but his pass card gave him access to the entire depot.”

“Is it possible he was selling alcohol as a little enterprise of his own and fiddling the books?” Margit wondered.

“But could you really steal enough alcohol to make it worth killing someone—or more than one person—to avoid being discovered?” Thomas said.

Persson stroked his chin. “People commit murder for the strangest reasons. And for much less money than you might think. Don’t imagine someone won’t kill for a couple hundred thousand kronor. Let’s find out if there’s a link between Sandhamn and Systemet, the alcohol trade, or other related areas.”

“That sounds sensible,” Margit said.

Persson cleared his throat and went on. “We’ll continue with the investigation on Sandhamn so we have a complete picture of Kicki Berggren’s movements from the moment she stepped ashore until her body was found.”

Thomas didn’t speak. What did Persson think they’d been doing on Sandhamn so far?

“Thomas.” Persson turned to face him and underlined the importance of his words with a stabbing finger. “We also need to find this Jonny Almhult as soon as possible. Have you put out an alert?”

“I wanted to wait until after the meeting,” Thomas said.

“Put out an alert across the region. Then get back to Sandhamn with Kalle and Erik. Turn Almhult’s place inside out. There might be something hidden there that will shed some light on the case.”

He scratched the mosquito bite again. “Why does this kind of thing always turn up in the middle of the summer?”

The speakerphone crackled. “Do you want me to come back?” Margit asked.

Persson shook his head. “I think we’re fine for the time being. Thomas seems to be on top of things, and his local knowledge is improving with each day.” He was almost chuckling. “You look after the children and that husband of yours. I’ll let you know if I change my mind.” He looked at Thomas again. “I think we’re nearly done. By the way, have you been in touch with the prosecutor yet? It’s Öhman, isn’t it?”

Thomas nodded. Charlotte Öhman was the name of the prosecutor with the court in Nacka who would lead the preliminary investigation. He didn’t know her, but she had a reputation for being practical and easy to work with. No doubt she, too, had been hoping for a quiet summer with nothing more challenging than paperwork.