The Hunting Dogs Read Online Free PDF

him uncomprehendingly,
     but she sat down.
    The flinty grey specks around the pupils of her walnut-brown eyes captured the light
     like quartz crystals. Wisting had to pull himself together before sitting opposite.
    Wisting felt she was sailing away from him. After she opened the café it was as if
     she had become a different woman. For one thing, they were hardly ever together. The
     café had become the most important thing in her life, demanding six days a week for
     twelve or fourteen hours every day. She had invested most of her money after selling
     her own house and moving in with Wisting, but time was the most important investment.
     She employed some casual staff, but undertook most of the work herself, including
     cleaning and accounts.
    When she first moved in she had filled the void Ingrid left when she died, but now
     that emptiness had returned. He stretched his hands across the table and entwined
     his fingers with hers, uncertain where to begin. The Cecilia case was still capable
     of giving him sleepless nights, but he rarely talked about it. ‘Seventeen years ago,
     a girl called Cecilia Linde disappeared,’ he said.
    ‘I remember,’ Suzanne interrupted. She looked around the deserted café; impatient,
     it seemed. ‘I had just moved here. She was Johannes Linde’s daughter.’
    Wisting nodded. Johannes Linde had become famous when he founded his own fashion label
     in the mid-eighties. Every second teenager sported a baggy Canes sweater at that time, and Cecilia had posed as a photographic model.
    ‘They had a country house out at Rugland,’ Wisting continued, ‘where they stayed every
     summer. Johannes and his wife, and their children Cecilia and Casper. Cecilia was
     only twenty. On the afternoon of Saturday 15th July, she vanished.’
    The candlelight flickered restlessly and a slender trail of wax flowed down the candlestick
     to form a solidified puddle on the tablecloth. Suzanne’s gaze did not waver.
    ‘She went for a run directly after two o’clock,’ Wisting said. ‘Just before seven
     her father reported her missing. We had a heat wave that summer, but Cecilia ran almost
     every day. She took fairly lengthy routes, but never a fixed circuit; there was a
     labyrinth of walking trails and gravel tracks that she liked to explore. She could
     be away for a couple of hours at a time, which made the search more difficult. The
     family thought she had sprained her ankle or fallen and hurt herself. Remember, this
     was before everyone had mobile phones.
    ‘The family scoured the paths closest to home and, when they didn’t find her, alerted
     the police. I was the first in the investigation team to meet them, and finding her
     became my mission.’
    He closed his eyes momentarily. Seventeen years ago, he had worked closely with Frank
     Robekk. One year younger than Wisting, he had graduated from Police College after
     him. They had collaborated constructively, but something happened during the Cecilia
     case and Robekk withdrew. Neither Wisting nor any of the others had criticised. They
     knew what weighed him down and that Cecilia’s disappearance must have been a source
     of personal agony.
    ‘We searched long into the evening and through the night. More and more volunteers
     arrived: dog handlers, civil defence forces, Red Cross, Scout groups, people from
     neighbouring houses, and all sorts. When daylight broke, a helicopter was deployed.
     Sometimes Cecilia had rounded off her run with a dip in the sea, so the search area
     was extended to include the water.’
    ‘You found her a fortnight later.’
    ‘Twelve days. She had been dumped in a ditch beside the woods at Askeskogen but, long
     before then, we realised that she had met with foul play.’
    ‘How was that?’
    Wisting withdrew his fingers from Suzanne’s. ‘No one just disappears like that.’ He
     cleared his throat. ‘Lots of people had spotted her. As the news spread, witnesses
     came forward. Hikers, summer