‘Threatened the expansion? Nothing. We’ve already gone through the process with all the requisite reports and planning permissions. The matter is up for discussion at the meeting of the provincial board next week and all the parties will unanimously cast their votes to approve our plan. At least, according to what I’ve been told.’

‘How can you be so sure? Doesn’t the opposition always vote no? Just for the sake of it, if nothing else.’

‘Maybe in the national parliament, but not out here in the provinces. Sure, political debates get heated up here, too, but not about things like this. No local politician with so much as an ounce of survival instinct would ever vote against something that could both create jobs and—’

‘Put Noorö on the map,’ Karen finishes with a sigh. ‘Yes, that’s exactly what Björn Groth told us. But apparently Fredrik Stuub was opposed to the expansion for some reason. I believe he felt it would constitute a threat to the Gudheim ship setting.’

William Tryste leans back with a heavy sigh and out of the corner of her eye Karen notes that his wife mirrors his movements. I guess there’s only enough oxygen for one strong personality in any relationship, she thinks.

‘That’s true,’ he says. ‘We had to reroute and widen the new road. In practice, it will be almost like an extension of the motorway and in the original plan it would have passed relatively close to the stones, which the environmental agency took issue with. But all that has been worked out. Granted, it’s going to be a lot more expensive and it has already caused considerable delay, but there can be no doubt the board will approve it.’

‘So the proximity of the Gudheim stones is no longer of concern? No protests against the site being exploited?’

‘No, not that I’m aware of.’

‘Perhaps Fredrik was worried increased tourism would lead to even more vandalism?’ Karen suggests. ‘The last instance was pretty serious, from what I hear.’

William Tryste stiffens. Then he frowns and seems to search his memory.

‘That would explain . . .’ he says hesitantly. ‘No.’

‘What?’

Karl’s voice is sharp and Karen notes that Helena Tryste has gone rigid, too.

‘Nothing, it doesn’t mean anything. Not in practice.’

They wait silently, watching as Tryste once more seems to be inwardly cursing his loose tongue and looking for a more appropriate way of phrasing what he now has to say.

‘Out with it,’ Karl says impatiently.

‘The drill holes,’ William Tryste says darkly. ‘I thought it was odd. Not exactly the kind of thing you’d expect from bored teens. Besides, those stupid brats wouldn’t have the wherewithal to plan something like that themselves. I mean, graffiti is one thing, but . . .’

‘Plan? Bringing a hammer drill doesn’t require much planning, does it?’ Karl says.