The Creek in Roslinge, in the early hours of the moving mist, caught the attention of Thorkild Christensen, from the vicarage. The Vicar went back inside thinking that it was the elbow of a brown PVC pipe that caught his eye and only until much later he noticed the silence; the silence of her not being there. Karen his wife was not a noisy person and their estranged relationship, living somewhat separate lives did not make Thorkild instantly suspicious of her missing.
Detective Thea Krogh found the missing body in the creek near the vicarage. Karen was murdered as indicated by the gunshot wounds. Thorkild could not understand this as Karen had no enemies. Karen had not much friends and acquaintances to make enemies. She went about doing things on her own, cleaning, polishing, gardening, cooking, changing towels and other daily chores one with somewhat an obsessive compulsive disorder do.
What did Thorkild actually know about his wife? For the first time, he noticed the calendar on the fridge and saw that Tuesdays and Thursdays were marked with some initials. His wife had suddenly become a mystery to him. What did she do when all those hours Thorkild had to work on his sermons, counselling people and other church related affairs?
Every turn Detective Thea took, left her in more questions than the last, leaving Karen a mystery person to her too. There were no leads that she could follow that guided her to something admissible.
A second woman is dead!
There is nothing connecting these two murders as they are complete strangers and two different towns. Could these two murders actually have a connection? Thea and her team move in quickly, grasping at straws at the eleventh hour.
I was captured from the first sentence of the book. If I did not have other little things to do I would have definitely sat in one reading and completed the book as I did not want to be kept in suspense any more than I had to endure. The characters of the book were very believable which made for an excellent read.The scenery in the novel was neatly described. Nothing was over exaggerated or under exaggerated for that matter.
The story kept me in suspense till towards the end. Sander Jakobsen is the pseudonym for Danish writers’ duo, Dagmar Winther and Kenneth Degnbol. They translated this book into English by themselves. I only found that out after reading the book. I mention this, as I never once felt I was reading a translation. I tucked into the book very naturally like I would any other English book. It was well written for a translated book.
The only problem I probably had was, maybe the writer/s could have given us more in-depth insight into the psyche of the characters which would have made this book an excellent psychological thriller rather than just a crime thriller. Possibly, now that I am thinking about it, it may have gotten lost in translation. I would have liked to know what the back story of the killer was a bit to have properly motivated the killer to behave in such way. Although the suspense was kept towards the end of the book, I have to say I did expect more from the ending. It was just too simple an ending for me.