#1 INTERNATIONAL BEST SELLER • A serial killer is spinning a sinister web and Detectives Joona Linna and Saga Bauer are caught dead center. This pulse-pounding descent into the chilling world of The Spider is another shocking thriller in the Killer Instinct series. Three years ago, Detective Saga Bauer received an ominous postcard describing a gun and nine white bullets—one of which was intended for her partner, Detective Joona Linna. The sender alleged that Saga was the only person who could save him. But as time passed, the threat faded. Until now. A sack with a decomposing body has been found hanging from a tree in the forest. A milky white bullet casing turns up at the scene. When the body count begins to rise, the police realize that the killer is sending riddles, offering them the chance to stop the murders before they happen. But the police always seem to arrive a moment too late. As they begin to close in, the case becomes more and more tangled: someone is spinning a fiendishly intricate web, pulling Joona ever closer to a trap he may not be able to escape. The Spider is shocking and exhilarating in a way only Lars Kepler could accomplish. Praise for Lars Kepler's The Spider "Kepler captivates the reader while also keeping things moving at a break-neck pace. While Linna has been saddled with many tough cases, this one could be the most complex, as members of the police appear to be the target, with gruesome outcomes. . . . Chilling ... will have readers wondering as the story progresses, proving Lars Kepler’s superior writing ability. . . . Keep[s] the reader hooked from the opening pages and never backs down. . . . The characters, many of whom emerge for the first time, are strong and keep the reader in the middle of the action, adding depth to an already stellar piece of writing. . . . There is such an easy flow to Lars Kepler novels. . . . There appears to be no jaggedness when it comes to reading, nothing jilted or lost in translation. . . . Dark, Scandinavian, and full of surprises. What else could you want in a book?"  — Mystery & Suspense "Kepler...ups the ante in this pulse-pounding ninth Killer Instinct thriller featuring detective Joona Linna.... Kepler manages to make each murder resonate, giving the deaths uncommon weight in the lives of Linna and his fellow detectives, who grow increasingly distraught at their failure to prevent the killings. That veracity, combined with regular passages of almost unbearable tension, make this another standout in a strong series." — Publishers Weekly LARS KEPLER is the pseudonym of the critically acclaimed husband-and-wife team Alexandra Coelho Ahndoril and Alexander Ahndoril. Their number-one internationally best-selling novels have sold more than seventeen million copies in forty languages. The Ahndorils were both established writers before they adopted the pen name Lars Kepler. They live in Stockholm, Sweden. Translated by Alice Menzies. 1 Margot Silverman hears the thudding of the horse’s hooves against the bark chips as it gallops along the illuminated trail. The sky is dark, the August air cool. The trees race by on either side of her, fading away into the night before reappearing in the glow of the next lamp post. Margot is head of the National Crime Unit in Stockholm, and she goes riding in Värmdö, to the east of the capital, four times a week.  It helps to clear her head and centre herself. The horse charges along the narrow trail, and the quick pace makes her heart race. She catches brief glimpses of things in her periphery: fallen trees, the far edge of the field, a damp sweater with a smiley face on it, draped over a barrier. The horse’s movements are asymmetrical as it gallops, its left hip higher than the right. Each three-beat gait ends with its right front leg pushing off from the ground, followed by a moment of suspension. In those few seconds as they fly through the air, she feels a tingle in her thighs. Catullus is a Swedish warmblood gelding with long legs and a powerful neck, and Margot needed only to shift her outside leg back and push her hip forward to help spur him into a gallop. Her braid thuds against her back each time his hooves hit the ground. She sees a deer bolt across a clearing through the swaying ferns. The lights are broken on the last part of the trail, and Margot can no longer see the ground in front of her. She closes her eyes and puts her faith in Catullus, allowing herself to be carried forward. When she opens her eyes, she spots the bright stable between the trees and slows to an extended trot. Margot’s chest and back are sweaty, and she can feel the lactic acid burning in her muscles after an hour’s interval training. She walks Catullus in through the gates and dismounts. It is almost 11 p.m., and Margot’s silver Citroën is the only car still parked outside the stable block. She leads the horse through the darkness towards the building. His bit clinks, hooves beating softly