IT WAS STILL EARLY morning, but the sun was shining and nudging the temperature quite a bit past twenty degrees. It looked like another day of record heat. The traffic could still be considered sparse, but it was growing heavier by the minute and the ferry terminal already had a long, winding line of cars packed for vacation.
The first beachgoers were already arriving down at Fria Bad, putting their blankets out on the sand to secure the best spots and enjoy a few final minutes of peace. In another few hours, the beach would transform into a cacophony of yelling families, with kids dropping their ice creams and exhausted parents.
The stores along Kullagatan wouldn’t open for a while yet, but the girls at Fahlmans Konditori on the corner of Stortorget were already busy putting out tables and chairs.
Yesterday’s billboards were still posted outside convenience stores; aside from the murders on the E6 highway and at the library, they boasted sunscreen tests and tips for avoiding arguments while on vacation.
On the whole, it was a perfectly normal Saturday morning in mid-July. Except for one thing: everyone was talking about the same story, all throughout the country.
The face hadn’t yet made it onto the front pages, but they all saw his face as soon as they left their homes — on buses and bus shelters, advertisements and commuter trains.
Those who had already been online were able to explain the whole situation to anyone who was curious. It wasn’t some peculiar ad campaign: the face belonged to Torgny Sölmedal.
It was him.