"Fredrik Welin is a seventy-year-old former surgeon who retired in disgrace years ago. He has retreated to a Swedish archipelago, where he lives alone on an island ... He is perfectly content to live out his days in quiet solitude--until he wakes up one autumn evening to find his house on fire. Fredrik escapes just in time, wearing two left-footed boots. All that remains in the morning is a stinking ruin and evidence of arson. Fredrik cannot imagine why someone would do such a thing. The police are also stumped, and without another suspect, they begin to think Fredrik started the fire himself"--
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This strange, beguiling book...gives closure to a substantial career without becoming maudlin or overly bleak. The waters around Welin's island may freeze in the winter, but there is human warmth to be found in these pages, along with glimmers of hope and consolation... The bell may have tolled for one of Scandinavia's finest writers, but his connection to those left behind is unbroken. Ian Rankin Guardian