Chapters (71)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Author’s Note
- Extract from Rites of Spring
- About the Author
Silence. ‘I’ll get rid of them. It’s not my fault that Pawel can’t read warning notices in Swedish.’
‘That’s not why I’m calling.’ She realises how irritated she sounds, and modifies her tone. ‘Where have you set traps?’
Silence again, as if Mats is trying to work out what she wants him to say. ‘In the forest up here,’ he says. ‘Not far from where I caught that badger the other week, when you and Agnes were there. But I’ve put up notices.’
‘Anywhere else?’
Another silence.
‘You can’t tell anybody. She’ll be furious if she finds out.’
‘Who? Where else have you set your traps?’
Mats sighs loudly. ‘In Vargadalen.’
‘Vargadalen? Behind Kotorp?’
She can almost hear the last pieces of the puzzle falling into place in her brain. Suddenly she understands how everything fits together.
‘It’s called Norrblicka,’ Marie says from the doorway. ‘Not Kotorp. Put the phone down please, Anna.’
Her voice is icy. In her hand is a black pistol.
Chapter 60
60
Autumn 2017
Anna and Lisa are sitting in armchairs, while Marie is standing in the middle of the room in front of them.
‘This belonged to my grandfather,’ Marie says, weighing the gun in her hand. ‘He got it from a German deserter during the war. Aunt Elisabet kept it in her safe, but before you get any ideas, I know that Klein tested it once a year to make sure it was still working, just in case . . .’ She makes a little circle in the air with the barrel. ‘And now is the time for “just in case”, wouldn’t you say?’
Lisa hasn’t said a word for the last few minutes, but she seems to have recovered from the shock – partly, at least. ‘Why . . .? What . . .?’ She turns to Anna.
‘Änglaberga,’ Anna says slowly. ‘This isn’t about Simon’s death, it’s about Änglaberga. That was why Joe Rylander died, wasn’t it?’
Marie gives a crooked smile.
‘Marie’s father, Bengt, and the local gravel company, Glarea, need new resources to replace the open cast mine down in the village,’ Anna goes on. ‘Marie’s place has no land left, but there’s plenty at Änglaberga. Rocks, gravel, stone that will last a lifetime, securing job opportunities, growth and property prices. And of course it will provide the seller with enough money to finish her dream project.’
Marie’s smile grows a little wider.
‘What they say about you is true, Anna – you really are good. So, tell me, what other conclusions have you reached?’ She draws another little circle with the gun.
Anna thinks about the phone in her pocket, whether she should try to reach it. She moves a fraction to make it easier.