The Killer's Art Read Free Page A

face to face with Sixten Dahl, one of Stockholm’s most successful gallery owners. He was wearing a black leather coat with trousers and boots to match, tinted glasses with orange frames, and he was fashionably unshaven. He looked like a bad imitation of George Michael. Sixten Dahl owned a gorgeous gallery on the corner of Karlavägen and Sturegatan in Östermalm, which was Stockholm’s most exclusive part of town.
    ‘You think so? How nice. And it’s great you could make it,’ Egon said with feigned enthusiasm.
    More or less as a joke, he’d seen to it that his competitor in Stockholm had received an invitation. Dahl had tried to get his mitts on Mattis Kalvalis, but Egon had emerged from the battle victorious.
    Both art dealers had been in Vilnius at a conference for gallery owners from the Baltic region. There the singular style of the young painter had caught their eye. During one of the dinners, Egon Wallin happened to be seated next to Mattis Kalvalis. They hit it off, and amazingly enough, Kalvalis had chosen the gallery on Gotland instead of Dahl’s gallery in the capital.
    Many people in the art world were surprised. Even though Wallin had a respected reputation, it was considered extraordinary that the artist had chosen him. Dahl was equally well known, and Stockholm was a much bigger city.
    The fact that Egon’s biggest competitor would turn up in Visby for the opening was in itself not so strange. Dahl was known for his persistence.
Maybe he still believes that he can convince Kalvalis to change his mind,
thought Egon. But he wasn’t going to have any luck. What Dahl didn’t know was that Kalvalis had already asked Egon to be his agent and represent him in all of Sweden.
    The contract had been drawn up and was just waiting for a signature.
    The opening was a success. The desire to buy a painting seemed to spread like an epidemic. Egon never ceased to be astounded by the herd mentality of people. If the right person paid the right price quickly enough, there would suddenly be many others who were willing to open their wallets. Sometimes it seemed as if luck was more important than quality when it came to evaluating art.
    A Gotland collector had raved about the work and put a hold on three of the paintings almost at once. That was enough to inspire others, and there was even a bidding war for a couple of the pieces. The prices were jacked up considerably. Egon Wallin was practically rubbing his hands. Now the rest of Sweden would be sitting at the artist’s feet.
    The only fly in the ointment was that the person he’d been expecting hadn’t yet turned up.
    T he art connoisseur and valuer Erik Mattson had been assigned to make an extensive evaluation of a large estate in Burgsvik in southern Gotland. The head of Bukowski’s Auction House had asked him and a colleague to make the trip. A landowner on Gotland had a large collection of Swedish artwork from the early twentieth century that he now wanted to sell. The collection included about thirty pieces, from Zorn etchings to oil paintings by Georg Pauli and Isaac Grünewald.
    Mattson and his colleague had spent all of Friday in Burgsvik, which had certainly been an experience. The estate turned out to be a unique example of a genuine old Gotland limestone manor, and they were impressed by both the surroundings and the collection. They were well received by the owners, who invited them to stay for dinner. They then spent the night at the Strand Hotel in Visby.
    Erik wanted to get plenty of rest before Saturday. He had a lot on his agenda. He was going to start the day by visiting the place he loved above all others, although he hadn’t seen it in years.
    Right after breakfast he jumped in the car and set off. The day was overcast, and the weather forecast predicted snow. But he wasn’t going far. His destination was just five or six kilometres north of Visby.
    Just as he was about to turn down the driveway marked by a sign that said ‘Muramaris’, he