Free The Scent of Almonds: A Novella by Camilla Läckberg Page A

death. Besides, everyone has said that Ruben and Matte were very close. So why would he want to kill him?’
    Another crash of thunder. Bernard and Martin both flinched.
    Bernard grunted. ‘You can talk all you want about motive, but who can understand the workings of a sick mind? The fact that they were so close just makes it more plausible. Don’t you agree?’
    ‘What do you mean?’ asked Martin, though he couldn’t muster much enthusiasm.
    ‘Love can so easily turn to hate. An unstable person like Matte can easily start imagining things, and who knows what he might have been thinking about Grandpa.’
    ‘Hmm … Doesn’t sound very convincing, in my opinion,’ said Martin, shaking his head. ‘I’ve made a note of what you’ve told me, but I’ll need proof before I put Matte’s name at the top of the list of suspects.’
    ‘All right, but I’m thinking of filing a formal complaint as soon as we get off this island. He can’t attack me like that and get off scot-free.’ Bernard leaned forward to glare at Martin.
    ‘You’re fully within your rights to do that,’ he replied, standing up to indicate that the conversation was over.
    Bernard’s response was drowned out by another loud clap of thunder, and this time it sounded much closer.
    Lunch was eaten in silence. While Lisette had sullenly re-emerged from her room, Matte remained conspicuously absent. The food that Kerstin and Börje served was both tasty and well-prepared, yet no one seemed in the mood to enjoy it.
    Martin wondered what Harald and Britten would say if they knew that Bernard had tried to pin the murder on their son. Not that he was about to tell them. He stole a glance at Lisette, who was seated next to him, her eyes obstinately fixed on her plate. She hadn’t exchanged a single word with him since she’d come downstairs, and he realized once more that they had passed the point where their relationship could be repaired. And that was fine with him. In the meantime, so long as they were stuck on the island, things were bound to be frosty between them.
    He leaned towards Harald and Britten who sat across from him and said quietly, ‘Have you spoken to Matte?’
    They both shook their heads.
    ‘No,’ said Britten after a glance at her husband. ‘We wanted to give him some time alone. He usually calms down after a while if he’s left in peace.’
    ‘Maybe we should go upstairs and look in on him,’ said Harald in a subdued voice.
    ‘No. Leave him be,’ said Britten, although she didn’t seem convinced. Harald didn’t insist, and everyone continued eating their lunch in strained silence. The only sound was the clinking of forks and knives on the china plates.
    Martin felt panic growing inside him. He wanted desperately to get out of this building and away from this island. Above all, he wanted help with the investigation, the assistance of someone more experienced who could advise him on how to proceed and point out leads that he had missed. Right now he had absolutely no idea who had murdered the old man. He was no closer to solving the case than he’d been the day before, and he was beginning to seriously doubt his own competence.
    ‘I think I’ll take a little afternoon nap after lunch,’ said Harald, patting his paunch.
    ‘That sounds like a good idea,’ replied Martin, stifling a yawn. There was something about the oppressive mood in the hotel, combined with all the food and drink he’d consumed, that made him feel extremely tired. Even though he’d already taken an hour-long nap.
    ‘I’m going upstairs to lie down,’ he told Lisette as he got up from the table. She muttered a reply but still refused to look at him.
    A short time later, as Martin was lying on the bed, he heard one door after another open and close. The other guests seemed to have decided to follow his example. The last thing he heard before sleep overcame him was the sound of rolling thunder outdoors.
    Britten awoke with a strong feeling that