The Hand That Trembles: A Mystery by Kjell Eriksson; Ebba Segerberg

Author:Kjell Eriksson; Ebba Segerberg
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Women Detectives - Sweden, Police Procedural, Mystery & Detective, Lindell, Women detectives, Fiction, Sweden, Mystery Fiction, Women Sleuths, Crime, General, Ann (Fictitious Character)
ISBN: 9780312605056
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2007-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Lindell took out a fresh composition book and wrote ‘Bultudden’ in large letters on the front.

At the top of the first page she wrote a question. It read: ‘How did they meet?’ The answer was not self-evident. Frisk had most likely not visited the area – south-east Asia – which they believed the woman was from. All neighbours shook their heads, all equally certain and not a little astonished at the question of whether Frisk had ever travelled to Thailand, Malaysia, or Bali. ‘When he was in Turkey, he was homesick every minute,’ Thomas B. Sunesson told Marksson.

Lindell tossed a couple of sentences onto the page, paused for a few seconds, staring unseeing at the wall before her where she had a map of Uppland, smiled to herself, and then wrote intensively, turning the page and continuing.

The telephone rang. She glanced at the display and ignored the signals.

After filling two entire sides with what many would regard as hieroglyphics, Lindell put her pen down and read through what she had written. Her conclusion was that if Tobias Frisk had not travelled abroad and met the woman there, the situation must have been reversed: She was already in Sweden when they met.

Two scenarios struck her as most plausible. Either she had come to this country in the company of another Swedish man or else she had worked in Sweden and thus encountered her future slayer.

For a murderer was what he was, she was convinced of it. No one parted willingly with a foot. She chose to disregard the fact that he would perhaps never have been found guilty in a court of law, that his defence could always have claimed she had left the house as well as Frisk and that someone had thereafter murdered and butchered her.

‘WORK’ was written in her notebook in all caps. The first thing she thought of was restaurants. She was familiar with a handful of Asian establishments in Uppsala alone – Japanese, Thai and Chinese. There were probably others. She fixed on Thai, reached for the telephone book and looked in the Yellow Pages under the heading ‘Restaurants’. Her eye immediately fell on the name ‘Sukothai’. She had eaten there once, with a journalist from TV4. A quick lunch, a couple of months ago.

At that moment it occurred to her that she had two chainsaws in her trunk. Instead of calling the restaurant, she called Marksson.

He picked up right away and Lindell told him about the power tools and that she would try to make time to drive out to Bultudden the following day.

Bosse Marksson was out on the point and he promised to leave a note for Sunesson and Malm to this effect in their respective mailboxes.

‘How is it going?’

‘No one has seen or heard a thing,’ Marksson answered. ‘And I don’t get it. How can a person live in a place like this without anyone finding out?’

‘She may have been locked away,’ Lindell said. ‘It’s happened before.’

‘But where?’

‘Maybe she was scared and stayed inside of her own accord.

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