The Invisible by Mats Wahl

Author:Mats Wahl
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781466895805
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux (BYR)

monday evening

Nilsson’s car was in the lower parking lot. Fors pulled in next to it. He got out and hustled up the path to Berg’s summer house. Through the windows of a room overlooking the creek, he saw that the floor was covered with gray drop cloths. On a table standing in the middle of the room were several rolls of wallpaper, a radio, and a thermos like the kind of Alf Nordström had in his office.

Fors circled the house a few times, stopping at the side that faced the trail. The bench was quite a ways off, maybe three hundred meters. From the house it wouldn’t be easy to see who might be sitting on it, especially since the view was obstructed by some birch trees.

Fors continued along the path toward the bench. After a while he saw Nilsson, walking quickly toward him.

“Found anything?” Fors asked.

“Nothing so far. The dog is a ways up. There are some large thickets. And the wind won’t help the dog either.”

Nilsson pointed a finger at one of his shoes and pant legs. He was wet up to the knee. “I stepped in a trench,” he explained. “Chief Hammarlund is on his way from Aln. He wants to talk to you. He’ll probably be here in fifteen minutes.”

“And the others?”

“No one else came.”

Fors told Nilsson about his conversation with Berg.

“It’s starting to look bad,” Nilsson said, examining his shoe.

“We need to get some divers up here,” said Fors. “I’ll go back and wait for Hammarlund.”

“I’m going with you,” said Nilsson. “I have a pair of boots in the car.”

“This Tullgren family,” said Fors as they headed to the parking lot, “what kind of people are they?”

“She has a convenience store. Ludvig drives a truck. He’s done some time for petty stuff, been convicted a few times, for receiving stolen goods among other things. The mother makes pretty good money at the convenience store. I know for a fact that she pays tax on only every other candy sale. That store is probably a gold mine. That’s what I should have, a little shop, instead of running around in the woods getting my feet wet.”

In the parking lot they found the chief waiting in his dark blue Volvo sedan, which gleamed as if it had just rolled off the showroom floor. Hammarlund sat in the driver’s seat with the engine running.

Nilsson headed to his car.

Without waiting for an invitation, Fors walked around the front of the chief’s car and opened the passenger door. As soon as he got in, Hammarlund switched off the radio. The smell of new leather and aftershave was substantial. Hammarlund was wearing a blue sweat suit. Fors thought his wavy gray hair looked as if it had just been cut.

A racket case was lying on the backseat. At one time Hammarlund had been a Swedish doubles champion in badminton.

“How is it going, Fors?”

“You’ve heard.”

“Tell me again.”

“The boy was supposed to pick up a towel in Vallen. He took a detour to his girlfriend’s house.

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