Dark Angel (Anders Knutas 6)

All typical Gotland fare, elevated to a sophisticated level. He shouted encouragement to the chefs, who were sweating over the stoves, before he returned to the bar. He noted with satisfaction that the glasses were being rapidly refilled. It was important not to be stingy with the booze; the guests needed to be warmed up as quickly as possible. Linen tablecloths had been placed on the tables and the waitresses, all dressed in white, were lighting the candles in the silver candelabras. It looked as though it was going to be a perfect evening.
    The lobby was crowded with guests and, judging by the laughter and chatter, they were already in a festive mood.
    A short distance away stood his lover, carrying on an intense conversation with two of the island’s foremost artists. Her fiery red dress and platinum-blond hair made her stand out among the other guests. Almost queenlike, if it weren’t for her exuberant spirit. She laughed loudly and waved her arms about to underscore her words as she apparently regaled the artists with one of her countless anecdotes. Both men stood very close to her, their expressions rapturous.
    Algård chuckled and gave her an amorous glance as he hurried past.
    Their relationship had begun two months ago. It happened at a gallery opening that he had arranged in town. She was strolling about, looking at the paintings, and they had struck up a conversation. They got on so well that they left the event together. They took a walk along the seafront and ended the evening by having dinner. By the time they parted, late that night, he was in love.
    So far no one knew of their relationship. They had chosen to wait to make their love public. Visby was such a small town that gossip was rampant, and his divorce from Elisabeth was not yet final. He didn’t want to hurt her any more than necessary. Elisabeth was so weak. Fragile, both physically and psychologically.
    Nothing like his lover.

DETECTIVE SUPERINTENDENT KNUTAS didn’t particularly care for this type of event. The small talk and overblown friendliness felt horribly insincere and rarely involved a single sensible conversation at any point in the evening. His wife Lina had persuaded him to attend. Knutas had been head of the Gotland criminal police for close to twenty years and his position carried certain obligations. There were some events that he simply couldn’t avoid, and the dedication of the new conference centre was an important occasion for the island. Besides, Lina thought it was fun to mix with the crowds. In Knutas’s eyes, his wife was a social genius. She knew how to chat easily with anyone she happened to meet, always giving them her full attention. She could start up a meaningful conversation with everyone, from the lowly civil servant who worked in the municipal administration offices to the country’s most famous pop singer. Knutas had no idea how she did it.
    This evening Lina wore a loose-fitting grass-green dress with embroidered silk flowers. Her red, waist-length tresses hung loose over her shoulders, giving her the look of a wood nymph. She was energetically gesticulating, waving her pale, freckled arms about as she sat across from him at the long banquet table. He couldn’t help smiling.
    For once he’d been lucky with the seating arrangements. On his right sat Erika Smittenberg, the charming wife of the chief prosecutor. She was a ballad singer from Ljugarn who wrote her own songs, which she often performed at rural community centres and small pubs all over the island. Knutas had always been intrigued by the Smittenbergs; they were so different from each other that it was almost comical. Prosecutor Birger Smittenberg was tall, lanky and pleasant in an unobtrusive way, but bone-dry and proper in all situations. His wife was petite and plump with a boisterous laugh that made the glasses on the table vibrate and caused people to turn their heads in surprise to stare in her direction. Knutas thoroughly enjoyed her company and they talked about all sorts of subjects – but not about his job. He appreciated her discretion. One topic to which they devoted a good deal of attention was golf, since it was one of Knutas’s chief interests. Gotland, with its wide-open spaces and mild climate, was perfectly suited to the game. Erika told him hilarious stories about her struggles when she first took up the sport the previous year.
    Spring had arrived and the lawns had turned green. The sun was putting in an appearance more