Ghost Hunter part I

It’s late Winter in the small fishing village far north of the polar circle. The snow storms have ended, and the annual fisheries are in full swing.
The fishing grounds are situated along the nearby continental shelf, where strong currents provides the migrating fish with nutrition.
On his way from the harbour, one fisherman is shot. No one understands how it could have happened, or why the man was killed.
There are strong, hidden currents under the surface in society too, the police chief reveals in one of his silent conversations with his friend, the ceiling. Sometimes, the currents spit out pieces of its load. Things like a dead fisherman.
Another irregularity is, one of the local dope dealers has no obvious reason for telling the police about how he gets his dope. He is scared and ridden by the mothers of all hangovers, but that isn’t enough.
On the other hand, the story about geo-tagging and The Union Router might be a smoked herring.
You are hunting ghosts, his wife tells the old policeman. He admits, she might be right. Every time he believes that he understands, new contradictory facts emerge. Or rather, new possible facts.
Like when another fisherman is murdered, on land this time. This guy had found God and a nice fiancee. But before he could join the Laestadian congregation, he was supposed to confess all his sins to God and man.
The man was murdered a few days before he was to confess, the ceiling tells the police chief. That’s what they know.
A sin isn’t necessarily a crime. But a crime might be a sin.
Furthermore, where do all the money in foreign banks originate?