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He lay on his side, his eyes closed. One leg was at a funny angle, but that was the only sign that he wasn’t just asleep.

“He was under that,” Vidar said, pointing at a large machine. “We didn’t see him until we moved it away.”

“What is that?” Siri asked.

“A lathe. We think it was in the basement.”

“The Söderströms’ basement?”

“Yes, could be. I don’t know their name—the big house that was here. It took moving straps and four men to lift it away.”

Gerd crouched down to study the body.

“What the hell was he doing so far from the farm?”

“He’s totally stiff,” Vidar said. “Poor bastard.”

His fur was dirty and dusty, the fine strands swaying gently in the breeze. Great splinters of wood had drilled into his body, leaving deep wounds.

Gerd looked at Vidar.

“Call up Kjell and tell him—”

“Gerd, there’s something in his mouth,” Siri interrupted.

Something was wedged between his teeth.

Getting the dog’s mouth open was no easy task. It took all three ofthem to pry his jaws apart. When they finally gave way, there was a harsh, dry snap, like a branch breaking.

“Damn, they were stuck,” said Siri.

She reached inside and got hold of a scrap of fabric, the size of a napkin but jagged. She held it up in front of Gerd.

Someone in the area, dead or alive, owned a flannel shirt that was missing a bite. It was dark green, with pale yellow and blue stripes.

They heard a phone ringing loudly somewhere.

“Where the hell is that ringing coming from?” Gerd bellowed.

A patrolman they didn’t know waved apologetically, a receiver in hand.

“It’s for you,” he said, offering it to them. “You’re from here, right?”

Gerd nodded at Siri.

“Take it.”

She gripped the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, I’m calling from forensics.” The man cleared his throat, as though ashamed of calling in the midst of events like those he had seen on TV about Skavböke. “About the blood sample you took from Killian Persson on December twenty-third. It’s a match for the blood we found on the steering wheel in the Volvo. He was driving.”

“Thank you,” Siri said wearily.

51

Information about a landslide in Skavböke had first reached the overnight editorial crew atHallandsposten. Soon thereafter, it spread to the evening papers and national media. For the first few days, helicopter footage of the disaster was broadcast on TV. The video was slowed down, stretching the images out, making them thinner, like pulling on a rubber band.

Quick clay. A type of marine clay that’s very stable in solid form and can support houses, farms, and roads, even though it’s mostly made up of water. The solid structure of this clay is maintained by salts, which help it hold together. If it’s suddenly disturbed, it can quickly become a liquid sludge. Since quick clay is covered by topsoil, it can only be discovered by way of geotechnical sampling, and that, as far as anyone knew, had never been done in Skavböke.