by Viveca Sten
“Mina has no idea what I do. She’s sweet, but she knows nothing about business.”
Ulrika decided on a change of tack. “It’s unfortunate that you . . .” She searched for the right words. “Had a disagreement with Mina at this juncture.”
“That’s a private matter.”
Did he really not understand, or was he choosing not to understand?
The court was made up of a judge and three to five jurors, who were laymen with no legal training. Photographs of a badly beaten woman wouldn’t exactly get jurors on their side. This could seriously damage her credibility when she was arguing that he was innocent.
In this context it was an advantage for once that Ulrika was a woman, even though Kovač probably didn’t appreciate it. She was one of the few high-profile female defense attorneys in the country. Men were heavily overrepresented in her profession, particularly those who were known to the wider public. For some reason there were far more women prosecutors and judges, while men were more attracted to criminal law, not least in the cities, where more serious crimes were committed.
“It will be bad news if Mina testifies against you,” she said. “It won’t look good in court. And there’s no doubt that the prosecutor intends to combine both cases.”
The charm disappeared as quickly as it had manifested itself. Kovač frowned. “You’re not making any sense.”
“She’s going to file the assault charge and the tax evasion charge at the same time.”
“Mina will never testify against me,” Kovač said, just as confidently as the day before.
“Are you sure of that?”
“Mina is my wife. She knows how things work within a family.”
“Where is she now? Is she still in the hospital?”
“Yes. I’m going to pick her up as soon as we’re done here.”
“The police will do their best to get her to tell them what really happened.”
“I’ll take care of Mina.”
Ulrika had no doubt that her client was prepared to “take care” of Mina. The problem was that she didn’t want to serve up any further opportunities for the prosecutor to file charges. The best thing would be for husband and wife to reconcile, even though the photographs she’d seen made her shudder inside.
They needed to stick together, at least until the trial was over.
“Mina’s injuries have been photographed and documented. We’re talking about assault, which could result in years behind bars.”
Kovač looked at his Swiss diving watch with a wide steel band. Ostentatious, but no doubt the price bracket appealed to him. “Are we nearly done?” he asked impatiently.
“As your lawyer I must advise you to make peace with your wife. Try to get her to come back to you. That would make it much easier to defend you.”
“Don’t worry. Mina loves me.”
Bosnia, April 1992
Selma had laid the table for lunch in the garden; she liked to sit outdoors and look at the flowers. She was very proud of the pink, red, and yellow roses she grew; she put them in vases and gave some away to the neighbors.
The shade of the big walnut tree protected them from the heat of the sun; otherwise it was impossible to be outside in the middle of the day.
Andreis gobbled down his food, eager to run off and play. Her firstborn had as much energy as his stylish father, who unfortunately was as egotistical as he was hot tempered. They hadn’t seen each other for many years since they’d gone their separate ways when Andreis was only ten months old.
To her relief, Ivan had never made any claim on the boy.
“Why does Emir have to sleep in my room?” Andreis said. “Why can’t he be with you and Dad instead?”
Selma had met Zlatko when Andreis was two years old, and Andreis had always called him Dad.
She patted his cheek. “Why do you ask? Don’t you love your little brother?”
The boy looked a little ashamed. “Yes, but he cries all the time.”
“That will soon pass.” Selma laughed and shook her head. Her long black hair was her pride and joy. Andreis liked to brush it sometimes, using the beautiful hairbrush with mother-of-pearl on the back. It was a present from her mother, who lived far away in Sarajevo, the city Selma had left when she married Zlatko and moved all the way across Bosnia with him.
“Emir will soon be big enough to walk and talk,” she assured her son. “Then you’ll be able to play and have fun together.”
Zlatko emerged from the kitchen doorway. He was limping more than usual; he always did when he was worried. The aftereffects of a motorcycle accident had left him unable to walk long distances.
Why was he home at lunchtime? Selma was immediately anxious; everything was so chaotic right now. “What are you doing here?” she said, getting to her feet with Emir in her arms. “Has something happened at work?”
“They’ve closed the factory. They sent us all home.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re at war.”
The words felt like a physical blow. Selma’s legs gave way, and she sank back down onto her chair. “What are you saying?” she whispered.
Zlatko sat down and lit a cigarette. “The Serbs have attacked Sarajevo. The city is under siege, the roads are closed.”
Mom and Dad. Selma couldn’t breathe properly. Had they been imprisoned? Injured? What about Aunt Jasmina and Uncle Adnan, who lived in a small village outside Sarajevo, closer to the Serbian border?
“C-can they do that?” she stammered, pressing her lips to Emir’s forehead. She had to keep her children safe. Emir was a baby, Andreis was only five.
“Don’t worry, the United Nations won’t allow this. They’ve already recognized us as a sovereign state.”
Selma wasn’t convinced. “What if the Serbs come here? What will we do then?”
“The international community will intervene.”
A couple of walnuts fell to the ground and bounced away across the grass, attracting the attention of one of the chickens.
Zlatko stroked Selma’s hair. “Everything will be fine, you’ll see. They’ll have found a peaceful way to resolve the conflict by the summer. It will all be over in no time.”
CHAPTER 16
There was a knock on the door of Mina’s room. Anna-Maria, the manager who’d welcomed her the previous day, came in carrying something. Her blue sweater was a little too tight, and there was as much gray as brown in her hair.
“Good morning, Mina,” she said warmly. “How are you today? Did you get some sleep?”
“What time is it?”
“Almost nine.”
“Oh . . .” Mina pulled herself up into a sitting position. She must have fallen asleep after feeding Lukas at around six o’clock. She was embarrassed by Anna-Maria’s searching gaze, and tugged at the T-shirt she’d used as a nightgown. “I didn’t sleep very well,” she mumbled, without going into detail about the nightmares that had come every time she managed to nod off.
The hands closing around her throat until she couldn’t breathe. She’d dreamed that she’d fled from the house to get away from Andreis, running barefoot in the darkness until the soles of her feet were bleeding.
The fear was still there.
“It’s difficult for everyone at first,” Anna-Maria reassured her. “It takes time to get used to the situation. You’ll feel better, I promise.” She placed a toiletry bag on the bed, along with a pile of underwear, a pair of jeans, and a sweater. “Just a few things you might need. I hope they’re the right size. If not, just let me know—we have a small stock. I don’t suppose you brought much from home?”
Mina shook her head. She had nothing. Everything she owned had been left behind at the house in Kolarängen, apart from her purse, which one of the paramedics had remembered to bring.
She pulled the covers up to her neck.
“It’s breakfast time,” Anna-Maria said. “As a rule everyone is responsible for their own meals, but I’ve made you a few sandwiches since
it’s your first day. I thought I’d show you around when you’ve eaten, go through our routines.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
“You need something.” Anna-Maria smiled at Lukas and straightened the baby blanket Mina had been allowed to bring from the hospital. “You have to be strong enough to look after this little one, if nothing else.”
Mina didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to leave her room to go to the kitchen and meet the other women. She didn’t want to face their curiosity or silent sympathy when they saw the state she was in.
Saw what Andreis had done to her.
She’d worn dark glasses on the way to Runmarö, with a baseball cap pulled down to hide as much of her face as possible. Why couldn’t Anna-Maria leave her in peace?
“By the way, a prosecutor has been trying to get a hold of you. She called again a few minutes ago.”
Mina didn’t understand. “A prosecutor?”
“Nora Linde. Don’t you remember—we talked about this when you signed in?”
Mina was trying to keep up, but her brain refused to cooperate. She’d been so tired when they arrived; she didn’t remember half of the words that had poured over her. She’d fallen asleep as soon as she’d fed Lukas and changed his diaper.
It was coming back to her now—Leila had mentioned something about the prosecutor.
“She asked if you could call her as soon as you woke up. It’s about the investigation into your husband.” Anna-Maria waited for a few seconds, then leaned forward with her hand outstretched.
Mina recoiled. Her arms flew up to protect her face.
Anna-Maria immediately stepped back.
“I’m sorry,” Mina murmured.
Anna-Maria’s cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. “I only wanted to stroke your hair. I should have known better.” She turned and left the room.
CHAPTER 17
Dino Herco looked up when Andreis opened the passenger door.
“Let’s get out of here. That fucking lawyer talks too much. She thinks someone working for me has tipped off the authorities about my business affairs.”
Dino glanced at his boss. “Like who? Do you suspect anyone?”
“Forget it.”
Andreis took out a packet of cigarettes and lit up. He took a few impatient drags before opening the window and blowing out the gray-blue smoke. He preferred a particular brand from the Balkans, which he had imported specially. Dino thought they tasted vile, but apparently Andreis’s father had liked them. It didn’t take much intelligence to figure out why Andreis insisted on sticking to the tradition.
Flakes of ash landed at the corner of the window.
“Where to?” Dino asked. He put the car in gear and checked the rearview mirror before pulling out of the parking space. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them, but he always made sure he checked their surroundings.
It was the small details that mattered.
“The Southern District Hospital. We’re going to pick up Mina and Lukas.” Andreis tossed the cigarette stub out of the window. “The last time I texted her she seemed pretty keen to get home.”
Dino wondered who he was trying to convince, but he knew better than to say anything.
“My darling Mina. And my beautiful son.”
Dino turned off at Skeppsbron, crossing the bridge to the Söder district. There wasn’t too much traffic, in spite of the lunchtime rush. They reached the hospital within fifteen minutes. A stream of people hurried toward the main entrance in the glass façade—young and old, wheeled walkers and strollers passed one another beneath the angular letters informing them that this was the Southern District Hospital.
A dark-haired middle-aged woman with a shawl wrapped around her head was crouched down by the door, begging. There was a tin on the ground in front of her, and she was holding out her hand in a pleading gesture. Most people didn’t even seem to notice her, but right when Dino drove past, one old lady with a cane stopped dead. She yelled something and shook her fist.
The woman didn’t react.
Jesus, imagine sitting there day after day. The Swedes talked about their open, generous society, but they were no better than anyone else. Society was cold and unjust, and it was every man for himself.
Dino concentrated on finding a parking space.
“Wait here,” Andreis said as he set off for the entrance. “I’ll be back shortly.”
There was a police car nearby, but he didn’t seem bothered by its presence.
Dino switched off the engine and reached for his newspaper. He could be here for hours—Andreis had no idea how long he was going to be. It made no difference to Dino; he was used to doing whatever Andreis wanted him to do.
With a bit of luck his boss would be in a better mood when he was reunited with his wife and son. Maybe he’d feel like a pizza and a few beers in their favorite bar later?
Dino longed to see the positive side of his childhood friend again. They’d had so many fantastic evenings and nights when the business began to take off, and Andreis wanted to celebrate every success. No one could party like Andreis when he was in the mood, when he thought he owned the whole world.
Stockholm was where it had all started, where they’d made a new life for themselves, far away from the poor areas of Nyköping, where they’d been subjected to a barrage of racist abuse.
Andreis’s tall figure appeared in front of the car. He’d only been gone five minutes, and there was no sign of Mina and Lukas.
Dino reached over and opened the passenger door. Andreis got in without a word. He stared at the phone in his hand as if he could force it to come up with a message. Something was wrong, but Dino knew better than to ask questions when Andreis had that look in his eye.
The police car drove off, and a yellow taxi immediately took its place. The woman who was begging got to her feet and shuffled into the hospital. She reappeared a few minutes later, her fingers wrapped around a paper cup containing a hot drink.
Dino waited for instructions. Andreis took out a piece of gum and started chewing frenetically. He still hadn’t said a word.
Someone dropped a few coins in the beggar woman’s tin. She smiled and nodded gratefully, then lowered her eyes again.
In the end Dino had to ask.
“What happened?”
“Mina isn’t there.”
“What?”
“Are you deaf? She’s not in the hospital. She was discharged yesterday.”
“Where’s she gone?”
“I don’t fucking know! They wouldn’t tell me. She’s just fucking left and taken Lukas with her.” Andreis slammed his hand down on the dashboard. “She can’t take my son without asking me for permission!”
CHAPTER 18
Anna-Maria went into her office, but stopped dead by the desk. What had she come in for? She’d been so busy with phone calls and things to do that she just couldn’t remember.
She rubbed her nose with her index finger. The shelter was only half full, and yet she felt as if a thousand flies were buzzing around inside her head. She’d found it difficult to concentrate all day, and been short with her colleagues.
The depressing meeting with the inspector from social services was constantly in the back of her mind. Presumably the inspector had only agreed to come over so that no one would be able to criticize her afterward.
The phone rang; Anna-Maria didn’t recognize the number.
It was Birgitta Svanberg. Talk of the devil . . .
“I forgot to ask a question the other day,” she began, without wasting any time on small talk. “What’s the situation re CCTV at Freya’s Haven?”
Anna-Maria sank down on her chair. She’d hoped to avoid this discussion. “We have talked about it,” she said eventually.
“Talked about it?”
Anna-Maria took a deep breath. Birgitta sounded as if she couldn’t believe her ears. What was wrong with her? Didn’t she realize that putting up cameras all around the building was tantamoun
t to announcing that it was a shelter? There were no cameras inside, and plenty of shelters had refused to install them for reasons of integrity.
Birgitta made it sound like a dereliction of duty.
“We haven’t gone down that route yet,” Anna-Maria said, “but we have discussed making a request for tenders to see what it would cost.” She tried to sound convincing, even though there was absolutely no money to spare in the budget for that kind of investment. She had no idea where she would find the money if the council came back and insisted on CCTV.
“I thought it was a standard requirement these days,” Birgitta said. She ended the call before Anna-Maria could respond.
Anna-Maria remained at her desk, staring at the phone.
The last time Freya’s Haven had taken part in negotiations with the council, they had done their best to put in a competitive bid. They couldn’t afford to risk losing the funding. They’d cut back wherever they could; it was impossible to save any more money. The women and children must be provided with decent food, and there was nothing to be done about fixed costs.
However, if they weren’t successful in the next round of negotiations, the shelter would have to close. They would barely have enough money to wind down in a civilized and organized way. Everything she’d worked for over the past fifteen years would disappear.
That couldn’t be allowed to happen.
As always, her gaze sought out the photograph of Malin. Her daughter’s smile was usually a source of strength for Anna-Maria, a way to summon up fresh energy in difficult moments.
Now she was overwhelmed by feelings of guilt.
She had failed to protect her own daughter. Was she also going to fail when it came to taking care of the women at Freya’s Haven?
CHAPTER 19
Ulrika Grönstedt glanced at her watch. It was almost time to leave the office. She tried to get home reasonably early on Fridays for Fiona’s sake, but all too often she didn’t succeed. Today she had promised herself that she wasn’t going to disappoint her ten-year-old daughter; it had been an intense week with a lot of late nights.
