The sun was on its way down behind the rows of trees to the west, and he was lucky enough to be able to stay in the shade and relatively mild temperatures all the way. Wolgershuus was located a few kilometres outside the little town, pleasantly secluded in the woods and some distance from the main road. It comprised extensive walled grounds with half a dozen separate buildings from the early twentieth century, all in the same soft, pale yellow limestone. Van Veeteren had read up on its genealogy: at the beginning a sanatorium and convalescent home for the well-heeled; later – during the war years – an educational institution for female health workers and other volunteers; and then – from the fifties onwards – a treatment centre and residential home for people with various mental and psychosomatic illnesses. But all the time with an increasing emphasis on detaining potentially dangerous mentally ill patients, if he had read correctly between the lines. Even from a long way away – just after he had left the main road and started to follow the narrow, meandering tarmacked path through the forest – he could hear a voice.
What do You think about The Inspector And Silence?
