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far-fetched,” said Knutas. “A person would have to be awfully sick to commit this type of crime. But we can’t rule it out. We’ve been surprised before. We need to talk to the farmer again. He’s unusually talkative, but we were there only a short time. I think someone needs to drive back out there. The girls who found the horse have to be interviewed as soon as possible.”
    “I can leave right now.” Wittberg was already getting to his feet.
    “I’ll go with you,” said Jacobsson. “If there isn’t anything else you need me to do?”
    “Go, both of you,” said Knutas. “I’ll stay here and deal with the press.”

 
    Martina Flochten rushed around the cramped room, grabbing up toiletries and a towel. She was going to take a quick shower and change her clothes. The students had the afternoon off from their excavating work, because an American archaeology professor was in Visby to give a lecture at the college. Martina was in a hurry for entirely different reasons, though, although her fellow students had no idea why.
    They were going to take advantage of the situation. Her longing for him was burning and urgent.
    She had suppressed all thought of the boyfriend she had back in the Netherlands. He kept calling her cell phone more and more often. The more she ignored her phone, the more persistent he became. One evening when she had left her phone behind in the room, he had called twenty-eight times. It was sick, and she found it embarrassing because her roommate, Eva, had been home that evening, lying in bed and trying to read. Martina planned to end the relationship when she got back home. She couldn’t bring herself to do it over the phone. That would be too wretched.
    Her father had also called. He was coming to Gotland the following week. He had business in Visby and was planning to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. Maybe he was worried about her. Martina was close to her father, although she thought he could be rather overprotective. Then again, she certainly had given him reason to worry on numerous occasions. Martina was ambitious and a good student. She did well in school, but in her free time she never hesitated to go out partying, and there was no shortage of parties among the various student crowds at the university in Rotterdam. She had even tried drugs, but only the less serious kind.
    Martina’s interest in archaeology was sparked when she saw a TV program about an excavation in Peru. She was impressed by the archaeologists’ patient, systematic work, and by what the earth could tell them.
    When she began studying the subject, she quickly become intrigued by the Viking Age. She read everything she could get her hands on about the Vikings and how they had lived. Their religion, with its belief in numerous gods, appealed to her. And she was fascinated not only by the Viking ships and their plundering expeditions out in the world but also by the extensive trade the Vikings had carried on, especially on Gotland.
    This course had definitely whetted Martina’s appetite, and she had already decided to do further studies in the subject at the college in Visby after finishing her archaeology degree.
    By the time she was done with her shower, the others had gone out to the bus that was going to take them to the lecture. She went out and explained that she wasn’t feeling well and wanted to stay home. Eva seemed disappointed. They had all planned to have a beer somewhere afterward, to take advantage of being in town.
    After the bus drove off, Martina rushed back inside to get her purse, casting one last glance at herself in the mirror. She looked good. The Gotland sun had given her skin a lovely sheen, and her long hair was blonder than usual.
    He wanted to meet at the harbor. Walking briskly and full of anticipation, she strode across the wooden bridge behind the youth hostel, heading down to the harbor area.

 
    Petesviken was a good distance from Visby, on the southwest coast of