By Arne Dahl
In Arne Dahl’s riveting follow-up to Misterioso, the Intercrime staff is assigned the duty of monitoring down an American serial killer at the free in Sweden—quietly, and as speedy as possible.
When a Swedish literary critic is located tortured to demise in a janitor’s closet at Newark foreign Airport, the police notice that the assassin made off with the victim’s price ticket and boarded a flight to Stockholm. Swedish gurus are put on excessive alert, however the killer manages to slide in the course of the customs dragnet and vanishes into the evening.
With no transparent rationale in sight, Detectives Paul Hjelm and Kerstin Holm of Intercrime’s A-Unit take over the research. They examine that the tactic of torture used used to be not just a hugely really good technique of extracting info secretly built through the Vietnam War—allowing the sufferer to whisper, yet to not scream—but additionally that it was once the modus operandi of an allegedly deceased homicidal maniac identified simply because the Kentucky Killer.
As extra sufferers are came across at the outskirts of Stockholm and the fear grows, the group unearths itself arising empty-handed. Hjelm and Holm fly to long island, hoping to find either the killer’s identification and the resource of his curiosity in Sweden. What they fast examine, looking through the previous, is that undesirable blood consistently comes again around.
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Additional resources for Bad Blood: A Crime Novel
Just a bit busy now. You know how it is. Except they didnt know, and they never could. Hed have to lie to them. And once he did thatonce he crossed that linehe could never cross back, which meant something precious would be irreparably broken. Too much in his life, in himself, had changed of late. While his parents backs were turned hed become some dark, unfathomable stranger and he knew he couldnt trust himself not to let them see it. It was still too soon. Theyd have to be lied to eventually, of course.
In his veins the blood warmed. The ether trembled. The glory of the dragon thrummed through his bones. All these rules and regulations, Gerald, said Lional, with spurious sympathy. Dont you find them just the tiniest bit tedious? If I did, I wouldnt tell you. Rules are important, Lional. They remind us of our ties to one another. They keep us civilised. You never grasped that, and you paid the price. Yes, I thought you did, said Lional, looking pleased. A wizard like you, as far beyond First Grade as First Grade surpasses a gnat, chained to mundane, mawkish convention.
Scratch that bright idea. Did whoever was in the house even know hed arrived? He hadnt a clue. Nor did there seem to be any way of communicating with the distant, fog-shrouded establishment. No crystal ball, not even a boring, ordinary telephone. Of course, he could always shout Honestly, this was ridiculous. He blew out another breath. Then, surrendering to temper, he wrapped his fingers around the gates wrought-iron bars and shook. Come on! Let me in! Im catching pewmonia out here! Nothing. The gates locking incant buzzed fuzzily through his gloves.