Free Still Waters (Sandhamn Murders Book 1) by Viveca Sten Page B

really know when I’ll be able to pick it up.”
    “Of course. You can always tie up here, you know that.”
    Henrik and Nora’s eyes met. Almost as one they turned and looked at the children, who were playing by the shoreline. Nora couldn’t believe it. Two deaths on Sandhamn within a week. On her summer island. It seemed unreal. As a rule she didn’t even bother locking the front door when she left the house.
    She was seized by a sudden impulse to put her arms around her boys and never let go.
    Where would this all end?

C HAPTER 17
    Thomas walked quickly through the alleyways toward the Mission House. It was at the bottom of the hill below the chapel, next to the school. It was about a quarter mile from Nora’s. If there had been no other buildings in the way, you would have been able to see the Mission House from her kitchen window.
    When the evangelical movement swept through the archipelago at the end of the nineteenth century, people had gathered in this building, which resembled a church. It had been the first religious edifice on Sandhamn; the islanders’ applications for a church of their own had been turned down time and time again, ever since the eighteenth century. At most the congregation had consisted of fourteen or possibly fifteen enthusiastic members.
    For a few years now the Mission House had served as a bed-and-breakfast and conference center as part of the main Sandhamn Hotel. The large chapel had taken on the role of breakfast room and was occasionally used for special functions. It was a beautiful building, simple yet stylish. A building that bore the marks of times long gone.
    And now there was a dead body upstairs.
    Thomas nodded briefly to one of the uniformed officers he recognized, then opened the gate in the white-painted fence which enclosed the corner plot. A number of tables and garden chairs sat at the bottom of the steps. Tubs containing blue-and-yellow pansies brought color to the sandy garden, which like the rest of Sandhamn consisted of nothing more than a few feeble tufts of grass.
    The main door was open, and Thomas quickly ran up the steps and into the hallway.
    From the big room he could hear sobs and agitated voices. He was confronted by the sight of a near-hysterical woman sitting on a chair in one corner. Next to her stood an older woman who was trying to calm her down, in spite of the fact that she, too, was crying. There was another police officer in the room. When Thomas walked in, they all looked up.
    “Anna’s the one who found the body.” The older woman pointed dramatically at the sobbing woman on the chair. “When she went in to clean number four.”
    Thomas went over to the cleaner, who was rocking back and forth and wringing her hands. It was obvious that she had been crying for some considerable time; her eyes were red and swollen. He wondered how he was going to question her; it would be impossible to get any sense out of her unless she calmed down.
    He turned to the other woman, who gave the impression of being more composed.
    “Thomas Andreasson, Nacka police. Do you work here?”
    The woman nodded as she continued to pat the other woman on the back.
    “My name’s Krystyna. I’m the manager.” The strong Eastern European accent came through before her voice broke. Her lower lip trembled, but she took a deep breath and went on in a slightly shrill tone. “It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Dreadful! How can something like this happen here?” She turned away, her hand covering her mouth.
    Thomas took out his notebook and a pen. The cleaner’s sobs subsided a little and became a low mumbling.
    “Could you tell me when the body was discovered?” he asked the manager.
    She turned back to face him and glanced at the clock on the wall of the bright room. “We called the police immediately,” she said, almost in tears again. “It can’t have been more than thirty or forty minutes ago. Anna had knocked on the door several times so she