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outdoors-woman. Her wind-burned cheeks came from being exposed in the blizzard the afternoon before.

“Malte was with Ylva, and he tells me the vehicle was an old Saab,” Gabriel said.

“Yes, from the Sixties, I think, really ancient, if I know my classic cars,” Malte said.

“You are speaking to some people from the Sixties, so be careful what you call ancient,” Lovisa said, laughing.

“I saw it too, although from far away,” Hans said.

“Was it blue, the Saab?” Karl Voss asked. “An old sedan?”

“Yes,” answered Ylva. “Quite a stupid-looking car.”

“I think I know who that could be,” Karl said quietly. “If I’m right, we may be in trouble.”

“Who?” demanded Junior.

“You know the Sami lawyer we faced in the Västerbotten County landrättighet case a few years ago?”

“Yes!” Gabriel exclaimed. “Sami land rights, somewhere north of Umeå. Name of Hall, or Hansson, or something. A real ‘pain in the ass.’”

He employed the English expression.

“Krister Hammar,” Karl said, nodding. “He drives an old blue Saab. A troublemaker through and through. During the trial I learned to wish the man dead many times over.”

“We lost that case, didn’t we?” Junior asked.

Malte spoke up: “We’re pretty sure the Saab was driven by a woman.”

“A male sat as a passenger, but there was definitely a female driving,” Ylva said.

“You could tell it was a woman because of the way she was swerving all over the road,” Vilgot said, making a weak joke about female drivers.

“That’s from a man who has totaled two Mercedes in his life,” Lovisa countered mildly.

“Okay, okay, both of you,” Junior said. “Frans, perhaps some of your former Karlsborg people can find out what the Lapp lawyer is up to these days.”

“Karlsborg” was a shorthand term for a member of the Särskilda operationsgruppen, the special forces unit of the Swedish army, which was based in Karlsborg Fortress, on Lake Vättern in south central Sweden.

Frans Voss held the rank of colonel in the armed forces. “I’ll put a man on it,” he said.

“Two or three men,” Junior suggested crisply. “Since we may find ourselves in a bind on this one. Now, moving on, the dead man.”

“Yes,” said Gabriel. “Mattias Rapp. One of Jarl’s people, I’m afraid.”

The whole room turned to Jarl Voss’s father, Elias.

“Don’t ask me,” Elias said hastily. “I have no idea where my son is at the moment.”

“God damn it!” Junior cried. “Doesn’t he answer his damned phone?”

“When I call, he sees my number on the cell and doesn’t pick up,” Elias said. He tried to defend Jarl. “Please, pappa, please, Gabe, we don’t know enough to judge.”

“Well, things are not looking good, Elias,” Gabriel said. “We hear about the Ljusdal manor house. We know Jarl has been using it. Now comes urgent news of this Hammar fellow being on the scene. Something has happened. For Jarl’s sake, I hope he was not involved. I’m still trying to get information on it.”

“Wherever that child goes, there’s some kind of mess to clean up,” Junior said.

“Pappa, really, no,” Elias objected. “My Jarl is a good kid.”

“A good kid who we’ve had to extricate from jams several times already,” Karl said.

“He styles himself an old-style Voss smuggler from the past,” Gabriel said.

“No, no, no,” Elias said weakly.

“I understand we’ve retrieved two bullets from Mattias Rapp’s corpse,” Junior said. “I wonder if a ballistics analysis would yield anything of interest.”

Gabriel nodded. “Yes, perhaps, but so far we’ve handled this whole business through back channels. A ballistics test means increased police involvement.”

    “I think we have sufficient pull with SÄPO to ask for a sub rosa forensics test of some sort, nothing public,” Junior responded. “Don’t you know someone at the SÄPO lab, Karl?”

“Yes, I do,” Karl said.

“Malte, please pass along the spent slugs you retrieved to Karl.”

Ylva raised her hand. “The body was ravaged quite badly. Has anyone encountered wolves in the area lately?”

No one answered. “I have photographs, if you wish to see them,” Ylva said.

No one volunteered.

“Something went on,” Ylva insisted. “We don’t even know if it was the bullet wounds that killed him. Do we have a pathologist who could do a private autopsy?”

“Oh, I don’t know if that’s necessary,” Junior said quickly. “The man is dead, after all. What would a postmortem accomplish?”

“I’d like to know what kind of thing gnawed at him that way,” Ylva said.

“Wolves sometimes like to venture out under the cover of a storm,” Karl suggested. “But the bear population has been active lately, or maybe it was some local dogs.”

“How about you and I head out on a bear hunt if the weather stays clear?” Gabriel said to his brother. “Open their stomachs, see what we’d turn up.”

“You wouldn’t say ‘bear’ if you’d seen the body,” Malte said. “Only Ylva and I have actually laid eyes on it, is that right?”

“And we thank you for taking care of things so discreetly,” Junior said. “The corpse is in the deep freeze, now, no? The game locker in the other residence? So it will keep, with no immediate action required.”

Ylva nodded her assent, a little too sullenly for Junior’s taste. He chose not to rebuke her.

“So, summing up,” he said, “no autopsy on the body for the present. We must find out from Jarl—if we can ever locate Jarl—if this man Mattias Rapp has a family. There might be some sort of payment necessary. Karl will handle the request for a secret ballistics test. And Frans will instigate a thorough probe of the Lapp lawyer’s activities. I don’t care for interference from his type, not at all. ”

“I’ve got some operatives who’ll crawl so far up the man’s behind he’ll feel a scratching in his throat,” Frans said.

“What else?” Junior asked. “I think I’ll place a call to the baron, just to apprise him of developments.”

“I’d like to find out who was with this Krister Hammar yesterday,” young Ylva said. “The woman driver. It’s very possible that these two were the killers of Mattias Rapp, and if so they both need to be schooled. This happened in our

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