Karl sat up with a jolt.

‘What are you doing?’ His expression was darker than she’d ever seen it before, and she yanked her hand away.

‘I … I just thought that …’ She couldn’t find the right words. How was she supposed to explain the obvious? Even he must realize how strange it was that they’d been married for nearly three months, and yet he’d never come near her. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes.

‘I might as well sleep in the lighthouse. I’m not going to get any peace here.’ Karl pushed past her, threw on his clothes, and stomped down the stairs.

Emelie felt as if he’d slapped her face. Up until now he had simply ignored her; this was the first time he’d spoken to her with that tone of voice. Harsh, cold, and contemptuous. And he’d looked at her as if she were some disgusting creature that had crawled out from under a rock.

With tears running down her cheeks, Emelie crept over to the window and looked out. The wind was blowing hard across the island, and Karl had to fight the gusts as he headed for the lighthouse. He tore open the door and went inside. Then she saw him appear in the window of the tower, where the beam of light transformed him into a shadow.

She went back to bed and wept. The house creaked and groaned, almost as if it might rise up and fly over the islands, out into the grey sky. But that didn’t frighten her. She’d rather fly away, to anywhere at all, than stay here.

She felt something caress her cheek, at the very spot where Karl’s words had left a sting, as if he’d slapped her. Emelie sat up with a start. No one was there. She pulled the covers up to her chin and stared into the dark corners of the room. She saw nothing. She lay down again. It was probably just her imagination. Same as all the other sounds that she’d heard since coming to the island. Not to mention the cupboard doors she sometimes found open, although she was certain that she’d closed them. And the sugar bowl that had somehow moved from the kitchen table to the counter. She must have made up all those things. It had to be her imagination, combined with the island’s isolation, playing tricks on her.

She heard a chair scrape downstairs. Emelie sat up, holding her breath. The old woman’s words rang in her ears, the words that she’d managed to push aside during the past months. She didn’t want to go downstairs, didn’t want to know what she might find there, and what had been here in the room, stroking her cheek.

Shaking, she pulled the covers over her head, hiding like a child from unknown terrors. There she lay, wide awake, until dawn came. But she heard no more sounds.

7

‘What do you make of all this?’ asked Paula. Having bought themselves lunch at the Konsum supermarket, she and Gösta had now sat down to eat in the station’s kitchen.

‘It’s certainly a bit odd,’ said Gösta, taking another bite of his fish gratin. ‘Nobody seems to know anything about Sverin’s personal life. And yet everyone has a high opinion of him, telling us that he was a very open and sociable person. It doesn’t make sense to me.’

‘I feel the same way. How can anyone keep everything except his work so secret? Something was bound to come out over coffee or lunch, don’t you think?’

‘Well, you weren’t exactly forthcoming about your own life in the beginning.’

Paula blushed. ‘I see your point. And I suppose that’s exactly what I’m getting at. I kept silent because there was something I didn’t want people to know. I had no idea how all of you would react if you heard that I was living with a woman. So the question is: What was Mats Sverin trying to hide?’

‘That’s what we have to find out.’

Paula felt something brush against her leg. Ernst had smelled the food and was now sitting at her feet, hoping for a handout.

‘I’m sorry, fella. I’m the wrong person to beg from. All I’ve got here is salad.’

Ernst didn’t budge but sat gazing up at her with a pleading look. Paula realized that she’d have to show him what she was eating. She removed a piece of lettuce from the plastic bowl and held it out to him. His tail thumped eagerly against the floor, but after sniffing at the lettuce he looked up at her with disappointment and turned away. Then he went over to Gösta, who reached for a biscuit and discreetly slipped it to the dog.

‘You’re not doing him any favours, you know,’ said Paula. ‘He’ll get fat, and it might even make him ill if you and Bertil don’t stop feeding him treats like that. If it weren’t for Mamma taking him out for long walks, that dog would have died long ago.’

‘I know. But when he gives me that look, I can’t …’

Paula stared at Gösta with a stern expression.

‘We’ll have to hope that Martin or Patrik have come up with a lead or two,’ said Gösta, quickly changing the subject. ‘Because right now we’re not really any wiser than we were yesterday.’

‘You can say that again.’ Paula paused and then went on, ‘It’s so awful thinking about that scene. To be shot in your own flat. The one place where you’re supposed to feel safe.’

‘My guess is that it must have been someone he knew. The door hadn’t been forced, so he must have let the person in of his own accord.’

‘That makes it worse,’ said Paula. ‘To be shot at home by somebody you know.’

‘It doesn’t necessarily have to be a friend or acquaintance. There’s been a lot in the papers lately about people who ring the bell and ask to use the phone and then steal everything in the place.’ Gösta stuck his fork in the last bite of fish gratin.

‘Yes, but they usually target elderly people. Not someone who’s young and strong like Mats Sverin.’

‘True, but that doesn’t mean we should rule it out.’

‘We’ll have to wait and see what Martin and Patrik come up with.’ Paula put down her knife and fork and got to her feet. ‘Want some coffee?’

‘Yes, please,’ said Gösta. He slipped another biscuit to Ernst and was rewarded by a wet tongue licking his hand.

‘Oh, I needed this,’ Erling groaned loudly as he lay on the narrow massage table.

Vivianne’s fingers expertly kneaded the muscles in his back, and he felt the tension gradually disappearing. It wasn’t easy to handle all the responsibilities that went with his job.

‘Is this the type of service that we’re going to be offering?’ he asked, his face resting in the hole of the table.

‘This is a traditional massage, so it will definitely be one of the services. In addition we have Thai massage, and a treatment with hot stones. Clients can also choose between a partial and a total body rub.’ Vivianne continued working on his back as she spoke in a calm, almost hypnotic voice.

‘Excellent. That’s excellent.’

‘Later we’ll offer other treatments besides the basic spa package. Salt and seaweed scrubs, light therapy, algae facials, and so on. We’re going to have a full line of services. But you already know that because it was in the prospectus.’

‘Yes, but it’s still music to my ears. What about the staff? Is everyone on board?’ He could feel himself getting drowsy from the massage, the muted lighting, and Vivianne’s soothing voice.

‘The staff will soon be fully trained. I’ve taken charge of that part myself. We’ve brought in some fantastic people – young, enthusiastic, and ambitious.’

‘Excellent. That’s excellent,’ Erling repeated and then uttered a deep, contented sigh. ‘It’s going to be a massive success. I can feel it.’ He grimaced as Vivianne pressed a tender spot on his back.

‘You have some real knots right here,’ she told him, as she continued to rub the spot.

‘That really hurts,’ he said, suddenly wide awake.

‘It takes pain to get rid of pain.’ Vivianne pressed even harder, and Erling couldn’t hold back a whimper.