Nora greeted her cheerfully. “I wonder if we could possibly borrow one of your perch nets? Adam and Simon have managed to rip ours. They were supposed to be out laying nets today, so otherwise we’ll end up with no dinner!” She winked at Signe. “As you can imagine, Henrik isn’t pleased. He’s just banned the boys from using the computer for two hours as a punishment. They’ll never play in the boathouse without permission again!”
“Of course you can borrow a net. Just go down and take whatever you want.”
Kajsa came to the door and pushed her wet nose into Nora’s leg. Nora bent down to pet her. Kajsa was the sweetest dog in the world. The gray hairs around her nose gave away the fact that she was getting old, just like her mistress.
Signe handed over the key to the boathouse. “Just make sure the net is clean before you put it back!”
Nora smiled. A net full of seaweed was no joke. Signe knew what she was talking about. You could beat the net with juniper branches forever without getting it really clean. It was Signe who had taught Nora that the best way of cleaning a really dirty net was to bury it in the ground for a few weeks. Somehow the enzymes in the ground broke down the seaweed; it simply disappeared, and the net was miraculously clean. An old archipelago trick that came in handy from time to time.
Nora went down to the boathouse, which was right next to the jetty belonging to the Brand property. It was absolutely typical, painted Falu red with a green door.
Many people on the island envied Signe the large jetty that had space for so many boats. The demand for moorings was always greater than the supply. The bulletin board in the harbor was always full of notes from boat owners who had no mooring. The going rate for a summer berth had shot up recently and had now reached several thousand kronor. Quite a number of residents made some extra cash by renting out vacant moorings at their own jetties. Signe allowed two families who had owned summer cottages on Sandhamn for a long time to rent berths at the Brand jetty for a reasonable sum.
Nora unlocked the boathouse door with the old, heavy key. It was quite gloomy inside, and the small light on the ceiling didn’t really help much. Now where were the perch nets? She looked along the wall. Most of the nets were in a good state of repair, but the odd one was old and torn. Nora turned over the net needle in one of the worst and noticed that it bore the initials KL instead of SB. Obviously someone else was keeping nets in Signe’s boathouse; perhaps it was one of the summer visitors?
She found the nets she was looking for at the back on the right-hand side. She unhooked two of them and carefully carried them out into the sunshine. She locked the boathouse, then carried the nets down to their own jetty, where Henrik was busy getting the boat ready.
“There you go.” She handed the nets over carefully so they wouldn’t get tangled. “I hope you catch lots of fish. I suppose we’ll need to eat early if you’re in the twenty-four-hour race. It starts at midnight, doesn’t it?”
“If we eat around five that should give me plenty of time; I don’t need to leave until nine,” said Henrik, who had calmed down considerably. He smiled warmly at her, and it felt as if he were trying to smooth over the disagreements of the past few days.
“Actually, I’ve got something exciting to tell you,” Nora said, crossing her fingers behind her back. “Something I’d like to have a chat about this evening. But you’d better set off now before it gets too late.”
Henrik helped Adam into the boat. He had nagged and nagged to be allowed to go along and help with the nets.
Nora blew him a kiss. “Promise you’ll be good?”
Adam looked at her and saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain. I’ll be really, really good. Especially if I’m allowed to steer the boat,” he said with a shy glance at Henrik, worried that his escapade with the nets might have scuppered his chances of taking the wheel.
Henrik laughed and ruffled Adam’s hair. Harmony had been restored.
“Come on, Tiger. Let’s go. Of course you can steer for a little while.”
Nora wandered pensively back to the house, wondering how to tell Henrik that she really wanted to take the job in Malmö.
They hadn’t mentioned it again after the argument on Saturday night. She hadn’t found the right moment to tell him that she’d had a meeting in town with the recruitment agency.
Nora felt that she wanted to talk to him before he left for the race, so he would have time to digest it while he was away.
Tonight. After dinner.
That ought to be a good time.
CHAPTER 60
Call Marcus Björk at the ferry company, said the note on Thomas’s desk when he got back to the station after catching the eleven o’clock boat back to the mainland.
I ought to get a season ticket for the Waxholmsbolaget ferries, he thought. It was such a nuisance keeping track of all the receipts that had to be handed in when he was claiming his expenses. Occasionally he managed to hitch a ride with the maritime police, but their schedule didn’t usually fit in with his, and they had fewer and fewer boats these days.
A phone number was written on the note; he called Margit, and they sat down at his desk. Margit dialed the number and switched to speakerphone so they could both follow the conversation.
“Marcus Björk, how may I help you?” The voice sounded youthful and enthusiastic. Thomas pictured an ambitious, apple-cheeked young man.
“This is Margit Grankvist from Nacka police. My colleague Thomas Andreasson is also listening to this conversation. I believe you called us earlier?”
“Absolutely. Thanks for calling back. I work in the admin department of the ferry company; we supplied you with passenger lists for our ferries from Stockholm to Helsinki yesterday. I’m sorry it took such a long time, but we got them to you as soon as we could. We had a computer glitch that caused us all kinds of hassle.”
“I understand.”
“I’ve now spoken to the captain who was on duty on the Sunday you asked about, almost two weeks ago. He told me a couple of teenagers did actually report seeing someone fall overboard on that particular evening. However, they didn’t report it until they were just about to disembark the following day, and there was nothing else to suggest anything had happened. It also appeared that the teenagers had been quite drunk the previous evening, so the captain made a judgment call and decided nothing had happened.” Marcus Björk laughed nervously.
“So what happened next?” Margit asked.
“Not much, unfortunately. It was difficult to take these teenagers seriously. I can’t tell you how many people claim all kinds of things that never happened.” The last comment sounded rather anxious, as if Marcus Björk was afraid that someone might have made a huge mistake. “But as you’d asked for the passenger lists, I thought you’d want to know that something had actually been reported relating to that particular evening.”
Thomas and Margit looked at one another; Margit gave Thomas a thumbs-up.
“Names?” she mouthed to Thomas.