Mother used to reply in his stead, after first casting an annoyed and astonished look in his direction. She didn’t understand it. She was the one who gave all her time and love to Alice.
‘I saw it, sweetie! That was wonderful!’ she would shout. But it was as if Alice didn’t hear her mother’s voice. Then she would call to him again:
‘Watch me now! Watch what I can do!’ And she would start swimming the crawl, heading towards the horizon. The movement of her arms was perfectly coordinated and rhythmic.
Mother would stand up, looking nervous. ‘Alice, sweetie, don’t go any farther than that.’ She held up one hand to shade her eyes.
‘She’s swimming too far out. Go get her!’
He tried to be like Alice and pretend that he hadn’t heard. Slowly he turned the page, focusing on the words, the black type on the white paper. Then he felt a burning pain on his scalp. Mother had taken a firm grip on his hair and was pulling as hard as she could. He sprang to his feet, and she let go.
‘Go get your sister. Move that fat arse of yours and make sure she swims back to shore.’
For a moment he remembered her hand holding his that time when they went swimming together – the way she had let go, and he had been dragged under. Ever since that day, he hadn’t liked to swim. There was something terrifying about the water. There were things below the surface that he couldn’t see, and didn’t trust.
Mamma grabbed hold of the roll of fat around his waist and squeezed hard.
‘Go get her. Now. Otherwise I’ll leave you here when we go home.’ The tone of her voice gave him no choice. He knew that she meant it. If he didn’t do as she said, she really would leave him here on this island.
With his heart pounding, he headed for the water. It took all his willpower to make his feet move forward and then jump in. He didn’t dare dive in head first, like Alice; he simply dropped feet first into the blue and the green. He got water in his eyes and had to blink so he could see again. He felt panic coming over him. His breathing was fast and shallow. He squinted. Far away, moving towards the sun, was Alice. Clumsily he started swimming in her direction. He could feel his mother watching, standing on the rocks behind him with her hands on her hips.
He couldn’t swim the crawl. His strokes were uneven and choppy. But he kept moving forward, the whole time aware of the depths beneath him. The sun dazzled his eyes, and he could no longer see Alice. He saw only the white, blinding light that brought tears to his eyes. All he wanted to do was turn around, but he couldn’t. He had to reach Alice and make her go back to Mother. Because Mother loved Alice, and he loved Mother. In spite of everything, he loved her.
Suddenly he felt something around his neck. Something holding on hard, pulling his head underwater. Now panic really set in, and he flailed his arms, trying to escape and get back up to the surface. Then the pressure around his neck was gone as swiftly as it had appeared, and he gasped for breath as he felt the air on his face.
‘It’s just me, stupid.’
Alice was treading water without any effort at all, looking at him with those bright eyes of hers. The dark hair that she’d inherited from Mother gleamed in the sun, and salt water glittered on her lashes.
He saw those eyes again. The eyes staring up at him from under the water. The body was limp and lifeless, not moving, just resting on the bottom of the bathtub. He shook his head, not wanting to see those images.
‘Mother wants you to come back,’ he said, out of breath. He couldn’t tread water as easily as Alice could, and his heavy body was being tugged downward, as if weights were attached to his limbs.
‘Then you’ll have to tow me in,’ said Alice in that special way of hers, as if her tongue couldn’t find the right place in her mouth when she spoke.
‘I can’t do that. Come on, now.’
She laughed and tossed back her wet hair.
‘I’ll only come if you tow me.’
‘But you swim much better than I do. Why should I have to tow you?’ But he knew that he’d lost the argument. He motioned for her to put her arms around his neck again. Now that he knew it was her, he didn’t panic.
He started swimming. It was slow going, but he managed. Alice’s arms felt strong around his neck. She had swum so much all summer that she had visibly developed muscles in her upper arms. She hung on to him, letting him tow her to shore like a little skiff. She rested her cheek against his back.
‘I’m your mermaid,’ she said. ‘Not Mamma’s.’
‘I don’t really know …’ Cia was staring at a spot behind Patrik’s shoulder, and he noticed that the pupils of her eyes were big. He assumed that she’d been given some sort of sedative that was contributing to her distracted air.
‘I know that we keep asking you the same questions over and over. But we need to find the connection between Magnus’s death and what happened today. It’s even more important now that we’ve determined that Magnus really was murdered. It might be something that you haven’t thought about before, some tiny detail that could help us move forward,’ Paula pleaded with her.
Ludvig came sauntering into the kitchen and sat down next to Cia. Presumably he’d been listening from outside the room.
‘We want to help,’ he said, his voice sombre. The look in his eyes made him seem much older than his thirteen years.
‘How are Sanna and the children?’ asked Cia.
‘They had a bad shock, of course,’ said Patrik.
On their drive to Fjällbacka, Patrik and Paula had discussed whether they should tell Cia about what had happened or not. She didn’t need any more bad news at the moment. At the same time, they really did have to tell her, because she’d hear about it soon enough from friends and acquaintances. And maybe these new events would make her recall something she’d forgotten.
‘Who would do such a thing? And to children …’ she said, her voice sounding both compassionate and hollow. The sedative was blunting her emotions, making things less overwhelming. Less painful.
‘We don’t know,’ Patrik told her. His words seemed to echo in the kitchen.
‘And Kenneth …’ She shook her head.
‘That’s why we have to ask you these questions. Someone has targeted Kenneth and Christian and Erik. And most likely Magnus too,’ said Paula.
‘But Magnus never received any letters. Not like the ones the others got.’
‘We know that. But we still think that his death is linked to the threats against the others,’ said Paula.
‘What do Erik and Kenneth say? Don’t they know what it’s about? Or Christian? One of them ought to have some idea,’ said Ludvig. He had put his arm protectively around his mother’s shoulders.
‘You’d think so, yes,’ said Patrik. ‘But they all say that they haven’t a clue.’
‘Then how could I …’ Cia’s voice faded away.
‘Did anything strange ever happen in all the years you were together? Anything that you reacted to? Anything at all?’ asked Patrik.
‘No, there was never anything unusual. I’ve already told you that.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Magnus, Kenneth and Erik have known each other since they were schoolboys. From the very beginning, it was always the three of them who stuck together. I never thought Magnus had much in common with the others, but they probably stayed friends out of force of habit. There aren’t many new people to make friends with here in Fjällbacka.’
‘What was their relationship like?’ Paula leaned forward.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, all relationships have a certain dynamic, with each person taking on a different role. So what was their friendship like, before Christian came into the picture?’
Cia paused to think, her expression serious. Then she said:
‘Erik was always the leader. The one who decided. Kenneth was … the lapdog. That sounds mean, but he obeys the slightest command from Erik, and I’ve always pictured him as a little dog, wagging his tail and begging for attention from Erik.’
‘What about Magnus?’ said Patrik.
Cia paused again before answering. ‘I know that he thought Erik could be a real bully, and occasionally he’d tell him that he’d gone too far. Unlike Kenneth, Magnus was able to speak up and make Erik listen.’
‘Did they ever quarrel?’ Patrik went on. He had a strong feeling that the answer lay in the past of these four men, and in their relationship to each other. But it seemed to be buried very deep, and it was proving difficult to bring whatever it was out into the light. The whole thing was driving him crazy.
‘Well, I suppose they argued once in a while, the way people do when they’ve known each other a long time. Erik can get a bit hot-tempered. But Magnus was always so calm. I’ve never seen him flare up or even raise his voice. Not once, in all the years we were together. And Ludvig is just like his father.’ She turned to her son and stroked his cheek. He smiled at her, but he seemed to be thinking about something.
‘I once saw Pappa get upset. With Kenneth.’
‘You did? When?’ said Cia in surprise.
‘Don’t you remember the summer when Pappa bought the video camera, and I was running around filming things all the time?’
‘Oh, yes. Dear God, you were a real pest. You even went into the bathroom and started filming Elin sitting on the toilet. Your life was hanging by a thread when you pulled that stunt.’ Her eyes brightened, and a smile brought some colour to her cheeks.
Ludvig stood up so abruptly that his chair almost toppled over backwards.
‘I’ve got an idea. I want to show you something!’ He was already on his way out of the kitchen. ‘Go in the living room. I’ll be right back.’
They heard him running up the stairs. Patrik and Paula got up to do as he’d asked. After a moment Cia followed suit.
‘Here it is.’ Ludvig had come back downstairs, holding a small cassette in one hand and a video camera in the other.
He got out a cord and attached the camera to the TV. Patrik and Paula watched him in silence. Patrik could feel his pulse starting to quicken.
‘What are you going to show us?’ asked Cia, sitting down on the sofa.
‘You’ll see,’ said Ludvig. He put in the videocassette and pressed the ‘Play’ button. Suddenly Magnus’s face filled the screen. They heard Cia gasp, and Ludvig turned around, looking worried.
‘Are you okay, Mamma? Otherwise you could go wait in the kitchen.’
‘It’s okay,’ she said, but her eyes filled with tears as she stared at the TV.
Magnus was clowning around, making faces and talking to the person holding the camera.
‘I filmed the whole Midsummer Eve party,’ said Ludvig quietly, and Patrik saw that his eyes were tearful too. ‘Watch, here come Erik and Louise,’ he said, pointing.
Erik came through the patio door and waved to Magnus. Louise and Cia hugged, and Louise handed a package to her hostess.
‘I need to fast-forward. It’s further along,’ said Ludvig, pressing a button on the video camera so the film began speeding ahead. They watched dusk fall, and then it got darker.
‘You thought that we’d gone to bed,’ said Ludvig to his mother. ‘But we sneaked out and eavesdropped on what you were saying. You were all drunk and acting silly, and we thought it was hilarious.’
‘Ludvig!’ said Cia, embarrassed.
‘But you were drunk,’ her son repeated. And judging by all the commotion, Ludvig had certainly captured their condition on the video. Loud voices and laughter were heard through the summertime dusk; it sounded as if the party was a good one.
Cia tried to say something, but Ludvig held his finger to his lips.
‘Shh, we’re almost there.’
They all stared at the screen without speaking. The only sound was the noise of the party from the video they were watching. Then two people got up, picked up their plates, and came towards the house.
‘Where were you hiding?’ asked Patrik.
‘In the playroom. It was perfect. I could shoot through the window.’ He put his finger to his lips again. ‘Listen.’
Two voices, separated a bit from the others. Both sounded upset. Patrik gave Ludvig an enquiring glance.
‘Pappa and Kenneth,’ Ludvig explained without taking his eyes off the TV. ‘They slipped away to have a smoke.’
‘I think Pappa had stopped smoking by then,’ said Cia, leaning forward to see better.
‘Sometimes he’d have a cigarette or two, at parties and things like that. Didn’t you ever notice?’ Ludvig paused the tape so their talk wouldn’t interrupt.
‘He did?’ said Cia in dismay. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘Well, on this occasion at any rate, he and Kenneth went around the corner to have a smoke.’ He pointed the remote control at the screen and started the tape rolling again.
Two voices. It was very hard to distinguish one from the other.
‘Do you ever think about it?’ That was Magnus.
‘What are you talking about?’ said Kenneth, slurring his words.
‘You know what I mean.’ Magnus also sounded very drunk.
‘I don’t want to talk about that.’
‘But we have to talk about it sometime,’ said Magnus. There was something pleading, almost vulnerable in his voice that made the hairs on Patrik’s arms stand on end.
‘Who says we have to? What’s done is done.’
‘But I don’t know how we can live with it. For God’s sake, we have to …’ The rest of the sentence disappeared in an inaudible mumble.
Then Kenneth spoke again. Now he sounded annoyed. But there was something else in his voice. Fear.
‘Pull yourself together, Magnus! It won’t do any good to talk about it. Think of Cia and the children. And Lisbet.’
‘I know, but what the hell should I do? Sometimes I can’t help thinking about it, and then in here it feels like …’ It was too dark to see what he was pointing at.
After that it was impossible to make out any more of the conversation. They lowered their voices, mumbling their words, and then went back to join the others. Ludvig pressed the pause button and froze the image of two shadowy figures, seen from the back.
‘Did your father ever see this?’ asked Patrik.
‘No, I kept it to myself. Usually he was the one in charge of the videocassettes, but I shot this one on the sly, so I hid it in my room. I have a few more in the wardrobe.’
‘And you’ve never seen this before?’ Paula sat down next to Cia, who was staring at the TV, her mouth agape.
‘No,’ she said. ‘No.’
‘Do you know what they were talking about?’ asked Paula, placing her hand on Cia’s.
‘I … no.’ Her eyes were fixed on the dark figures of Magnus and Kenneth. ‘I have no idea.’
Patrik believed her. Whatever it was that Magnus was talking about, he had kept it well hidden from his wife.
‘Kenneth must know,’ said Ludvig. He pressed the stop button, took out the cassette, and placed it back in its holder.
‘I’d like to borrow that,’ said Patrik.
Ludvig hesitated for a moment before he put the cassette in Patrik’s outstretched hand.
‘You won’t wreck it, will you?’
‘I promise that we’ll take good care of it. And you’ll get it back in the same shape it’s in right now.’
‘Are you going to talk to Kenneth about it?’ asked Ludvig, and Patrik nodded.
‘Yes, we are.’
‘Why hasn’t he mentioned anything about this before?’ Cia sounded confused.
‘That’s what we’d like to know too.’ Paula patted her hand again. ‘And we’re going to find out.’
‘Thank you, Ludvig,’ said Patrik, holding up the cassette. ‘This might turn out to be important.’
‘You’re welcome. I just happened to think of it because you asked if they’d ever quarrelled.’ He blushed to the roots of his hair.
‘Shall we go?’ Patrik said to Paula, who stood up. To Ludvig he added in a
low voice, ‘Take care of your mother. Call me if you need anything.’ And he pressed his business card into the boy’s hand.
Ludvig stood in the doorway, watching the police officers drive away. Then he closed the door and went inside.
Time passed slowly in the hospital. The TV was on, showing an American soap opera. The nurse had come in and asked Kenneth if he’d like her to change the channel. But when he didn’t answer, she had left.
The loneliness was worse than he’d ever imagined. His grief was so great that the only thing he could manage was to focus on his breathing.
And he knew that she would come. She had waited a long time, and now there was nowhere to run to. But he wasn’t afraid; he welcomed her appearance. It would rescue him from the loneliness and the sorrow that were tearing him apart. He wanted to go to Lisbet so he could explain what had happened. He hoped she would understand that he had been a different person back then, and it was because of her that he had changed. He couldn’t bear the thought that she had died with his sins before her eyes. That weighed on him more than anything else, making each breath an effort.
He heard a knock on the door, and Patrik Hedström, the police officer, came into his field of vision. Behind him was a short, dark-haired female colleague.
‘Hi, Kenneth. How are you feeling?’ The officer had a serious expression on his face. He went to get two chairs and brought them over to the bed.
Kenneth didn’t reply. He just kept looking at the TV. The actors were performing in front of a background of poorly constructed stage sets. Patrik repeated his question, and finally Kenneth turned his head towards his visitors.
‘I’ve felt better.’ What was he supposed to say? How could he describe what it really felt like? How it burned and stung inside of him, how it felt like his heart was about to burst? Any answer would sound like a cliché.
‘Our colleagues have already been here to see you today. You met with Gösta and Martin earlier.’ Kenneth saw Patrik glancing at his bandages, as if trying to imagine what it must have felt like to have hundreds of glass shards piercing his skin.
The Drowning Page 29
