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A gritty, bone-chilling masterpiece from the main acclaimed Scandinavian crime author on account that Henning Mankell
it really is summer season in Sweden. because the coastal urban of Gothenburg suffers via a warmth wave, leader Inspector Erik iciness broods over a chain of unsolved rape-murders. The crimes endure an eerie resemblance to a five-year-old case that the mercurial detective has refused to enable pass chilly. Has a similar rapist reemerged to taunt him, or is a copycat at paintings? and will iciness discover a universal thread one of the sufferers earlier than there are extra of them? With Never End, Åke Edwardson brings American readers one other installment of the shrewdpermanent, suspenseful, atmospheric sequence that has received him legions of lovers world wide.
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Extra info for Chief Inspector Erik Winter, Never End
She lay on her back. A drop of water ran down from her hair and over her cheek, and she could taste it on her lips. She'd already closed her eyes. Everything was red and yellow inside her head now. She could hear snatches of voices from people nearby, half words, a splinter of laughter that sparkled like the surface of the water in the sun. She hadn't the strength to read. She didn't want to do anything at all, just lie there for as long as possible. Do nothing, just live for ever. The sun was at eye level when she gathered her things together and scrambled over the hill and down through the little ravine to the cycle stands.
Her father was sitting on the verandah with a glass of what seemed to be whisky. ' She didn't answer. ' 'I'm going up to my room,' she said, walking up the steps. It was whisky. She recognised the heady smell. ' 'Skewered salmon, angler fish. ' Her father took a sip and turned away. The ice clinked. She liked wine, or a beer, but never whisky. By the time Jeanette was doing her make-up, the sun had already sunk into her skin, its colour grown deeper. The room was in shade: she had drawn the curtains and dimmed the light, but she was radiating a warm, dry, wholesome smell, from her skin.
They're all still in a state of shock, he thought. The idyll has been blown away and reality has taken its place, even in this posh neighbourhood. Jeanette got into the car, which had warmed up in the sun. Halders started the engine. As he changed gear he accidentally brushed her left knee, and she jerked away. He pretended not to notice, headed down the drive and out into the road. ' he asked as they approached the rocks and jetties. ' She shrugged. There were cars everywhere. Halders parked illegally opposite the ice-cream stall and stuck his police pass on the windscreen.