‘Or he collapsed when the cut was made. No, strike that, I think you’re right. He must have died instantly, or his arms wouldn’t be in that position. I assume they haven’t found the weapon?’

Karen shakes her head slowly without taking her eyes off the dead man. Wincing, she watches Kneought Brodal, who has got down on his knees next to the body and is starting his preliminary examination. If having to come out here for Fredrik Stuub put the coroner in a bad mood, it’s probably nothing compared to how testy he’s going to be now.

‘No,’ she says, ‘according to Thorstein Byle no weapon was found anywhere near the victim, and I assume we won’t find it, either,’ she says, nodding toward the edge of the cliff. ‘They’re probably doing the autopsy as early as tomorrow,’ she adds, raising her eyebrows questioningly and firing off a smile she hopes comes across as innocent.

‘And I assume you want me to attend it so you don’t have to? Want me to placate Brodal to the sound of the bone saw?’

‘Yes, please, since you’re kind enough to offer,’ she replies quickly. ‘I had my fill of that the other day. Do you want to head back up? How about I start with Björn Groth and his wife and you drive over to talk to the daughter, Madeleine, and her husband? Apparently, they live over in Gudheimby, so it’s only five minutes away. I’ll try to get to Jens Groth as well.’

‘What about William Tryste and his wife?’

‘I think they’re going to have to wait until tomorrow. Oh, you need a lot of time on your hands when you talk to that bloke. He enjoys waxing lyrical about malting and mashing. And he has an alibi for the murder of Fredrik Stuub.’

‘And we’re sure the two murders are connected?’

‘For the moment, I choose to believe they are.’

Karen grits her teeth against the pain as she struggles down the hillock in her oversized wellies. As soon as she reaches level ground, she shoves her frozen hands in her jacket pockets and pulls her shoulders up against the cold. Right now, she wouldn’t mind a strong shot of whiskey. Single malt, matured in a sherry cask, or American bourbon, either one. Come to think of it, anything would do.

Chapter 37

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