There weren't many hours when they could meet. He didn't get home from the quarry until late in the evening, and then he had to get up early in the morning to go to work again. But she always found a way, and he loved her for it. They took many long walks round the edge of town under cover of darkness, and despite the raw autumn cold they always found some dry spot where they could sit and kiss. By the time their hands began venturing under each other's clothes it was already far into November, and he knew they had reached a crossroads.
He cautiously brought up the subject of the future. He didn't want her to get in trouble, he loved her too much for that, but at the same time his body was urging him to choose the path that would lead them to a union. Yet his attempts to talk about his torment were silenced by a kiss from her.
'Let's not talk about that,' she said, kissing him again. 'Tomorrow when I come to your place, don't come outside to me. Instead let me come inside.'
'But what about the widow -' he said before she interrupted him again with a kiss.
'Shh,' she said. 'We'll be as quiet as two mice.' She caressed his cheek and went on, 'Two quiet mice who love each other.'
'But what about -' he continued, nervous but at the same time excited.
'Don't think so much,' she said with a smile. 'Let's just live in the present. Who knows, tomorrow we could be dead.'
'Oh no, don't talk like that,' he said, pulling her close. She was right. He thought too much.
* * *
'It's probably just as well we get this over with right away.' Patrik sighed.
'I don't see the point,' Ernst muttered. 'Lilian and Kaj have been lighting for years, but I have a hard time believing that was reason enough for him to kill the girl.'
Patrik was taken aback. 'It sounds as if you know them. I got the same impression when Lilian opened the door.'
'I only know Kaj,' said Ernst sullenly. 'Some of us old guys get together to play cards occasionally.'
Patrik frowned. 'Is that something I need to worry about? To be quite honest, I'm not sure you should even be taking part in the investigation under the circumstances.'
'Bullshit,' said Ernst sourly. 'If we couldn't work on a case because of some minor objection, we wouldn't be able to investigate shit. Everybody knows everybody else in this town, you know that as well as I do. And I'm quite capable of keeping my work and my private life separate.'
Patrik wasn't really satisfied with that answer, but he also knew that Ernst was right to some extent. The town was so small that everyone had some connection to everyone else, so it wouldn't be possible to use that as an excuse for removing an office from an investigation. If that did happen, it would be because of a considerably closer relationship. But it was a shame. For a second he had smelled the morning air and seen a chance for getting rid of Lundgren.
Walking side by side they approached the house next door. A curtain fluttered in the window next to the door but fell back into place so fast that they couldn't see who was standing behind it.
Patrik studied the house, the 'showplace,' as Lilian had called it. He'd seen it every day as he drove back and forth from his home but had never given it a closer look. He agreed that it wasn't very attractive. It was a modern design with lots of glass and artificial angles. It seemed that an architect had been given a free hand, and Patrik had to admit that to some extent Lilian had a point. The house was perfect for Beautiful Homes magazine, but it fitted in as poorly with the old neighbourhood as a teenager at a party for pensioners. Whoever said that money and taste went hand in hand? The town architect must have been blind the day he approved that building permit.
Patrik turned to his colleague. 'What sort of job does Kaj do? Since he's home on a weekday, I mean? Lilian said something about managing director.'
'He sold the company and took early retirement,' said Ernst, whose tone was still grouchy after having his professionalism questioned. 'But he also coaches the football team. He's very good at it, actually. He would have turned pro when he was young, but he had some kind of accident that made it impossible. And I say again, this is a waste of time. Kaj Wiberg is one of the really good guys, and anyone who says different is lying. All this is just ridiculous.'
Patrik ignored his comments and kept climbing the front steps.
They rang the doorbell and waited. Soon they heard footsteps and the door was opened by a man Patrik assumed was Kaj. He brightened up when he saw Ernst.
'Hi, Lundgren, how are things? There's no card game today, is there?'
His broad smile faded quickly when he saw that neither of them reacted. He rolled his eyes. 'So what's the old bitch come up with this time?' He showed them in to the big, open living room and sat down heavily in an easy chair, motioning them to have a seat on the sofa.
'Well, not that I don't feel sorry about what's happened to them; it's a real tragedy. But it's incredible that she has the stomach to keep quarrelling with us even under these circumstances. I think that says a good deal about what sort of person she is.'
Patrik ignored this comment and studied the man before him. He was thin, of average height, with the physique of a greyhound and silver hair cut short. Nevertheless there was actually something quite nondescript about him - he was the sort of man witnesses would never be able to describe if he decided to rob a bank.
'We're going round to all the neighbours who might have seen anything. It has nothing to do with your disputes.' Patrik had already decided before they came in not to say anything about Lilian having singled out her neighbour.
'I see,' said Kaj in a tone that had a slight hint of disappointment. A clear indication that the feud with his neighbour had become a constant and almost essential element in his life.
'But why the questions?' he went on. 'It's tragic that the little girl drowned, but there can't be anything for the police to investigate further. Surely there can't be much else for you to do,' he chuckled, but quickly altered his expression when he saw that Patrik did not find the situation the least bit amusing. Then something dawned on him.
'Am I wrong about that? People are saying that the girl drowned, but you know how people talk. If the police are going around asking questions, that can only mean that a different cause of death. Am I right or not?' he said excitedly.
Patrik gave him a look of distaste. What was the matter with people? How could they view the death of a little girl as something exciting? Didn't people have any basic common decency anymore? He forced himself to maintain a neutral expression when he answered Kaj.
'Well, that's partially right. I can't go into the details, but it turns out that Sara Klinga was murdered, so it's of the utmost importance that we find out everything she did that day.'
'Murdered,' said Kaj. 'Wow, that's horrible.' His expression was sympathetic, but Patrik could sense, rather than see, that the sympathy did not run very deep.
Patrik had to repress a desire to slap Kaj in the face. He found the man's phoney sympathy disgusting but he merely said, 'As I mentioned, I can't go into the details, but if you saw Sara on
Monday morning then it's important that we find out where and when. As precisely as you can remember.'
Kaj frowned and thought hard. 'Let me see now, Monday. Yes, I did see her sometime that morning, but I can't say exactly when. She came out of the house and scampered off. That kid could never walk like regular people, she always bounced up and down like a blasted rubber ball.'
'Did you see which direction she went?' said Ernst, speaking for the first time during their visit. Kaj looked at him in amusement; apparently he found it funny to see his card-playing buddy in his professional role.
'No, I just saw her go down the driveway. She turned and waved at someone before she bounded off, but I didn't see which way she went.'
'And you don't recall what time this was?' asked Patrik.
'Not really, but it must have been sometime around nine. I'm sorry I can't be more exact.'
Patrik hesitated a moment before he continued. 'I und
erstand that you and Lilian Florin are not on a friendly footing.'
Kaj snorted out loud. 'No, you could certainly say that. There's probably nobody who could stay on a "friendly footing" with that hag.'
'Is there any special reason for this…' Patrik searched for the right word, 'antagonism?'
'Not that there needs to be any special reason to quarrel with Lilian Florin, but I do happen to have a very good excuse. The trouble began as soon as we bought the lot and were about to build a house here. She had objections to the design and did everything she could to try and stop construction. She stirred up a small storm of protest, I must say.' He chuckled. 'A storm of protest in Fjällbacka. Can you hear my knees shaking?' Kaj opened his eyes wide and pretended to look scared, and then burst out laughing. Then he collected himself and went on, 'Well, we managed of course to take the wind out of that little commotion, even though it cost us both time and money. But since then it's been one thing after another. And I'm sure you know the extremes she's willing to go to. It's simply been hell all these years.' He leaned back and crossed one leg over the other.
'Couldn't you have sold the house and moved somewhere else?' Patrik asked cautiously, but the question sparked a fire in Kaj's eyes.
'Move? Not on your life! I would never give her the satisfaction. If anyone should move, she should. Now I'm just waiting for word from the court of appeals.'
'The court of appeals?' Patrik asked.
'They built a balcony on their house without checking the building code first. And it sticks out two centimetres onto my property, so it's against the law. They're going to have to tear that balcony down as soon as the verdict comes in. It should be coming any day now, and I can't wait to see Lilian's face,' Kaj beamed.
'Don't you think that they have bigger concerns at the moment than the existence or non-existence of a balcony?' Patrik couldn't help interjecting.
Kaj's face darkened. 'Certainly I'm not insensitive to their tragedy, but fair's fair. And such things are of no concern to Lady Justice,' he added, looking to Ernst for support. Ernst nodded appreciatively, giving Patrik yet another reason to worry about the suitability of his participation in this investigation. There was enough cause for concern even before it turned out that Ernst was mates with one of the persons on their interview list.
They had split up to cover the houses in the vicinity. Ernst muttered as he trudged through the biting wind. His tall body seemed to catch the wind quite effectively, and his lankiness made him sway back and forth, fighting to keep his balance. He could taste the gall at the back of his mouth. Once again he had to take orders from a snot-nosed kid who was scarcely half his age. It was a mystery to Ernst. Why were his years of experience and skill constantly overlooked? A conspiracy was the only explanation he could come up with. He was a bit fuzzy as to the motive or the brains behind it all, but that didn't bother him. Apparently he was regarded as a threat precisely because of the qualities he knew he possessed.
Knocking on doors was deadly boring, and he wished he were Inside where it was warm. People had nothing sensible to say, either. No one had seen the little girl that morning, and all they could say was how terrible it all was. And Ernst had to agree. It was lucky that he'd never been stupid enough to have kids. He'd managed to keep his distance from women too, he thought, effectively repressing the fact that it was the women who had never shown much interest in him.
He glanced over at Hedström, who was covering the houses to the right of the Florins. Sometimes his fingers itched to give his colleague a punch in the nose. He had seen the look in Hedström's eyes when he was forced to take him along this morning. That had actually given Ernst a brief moment of satisfaction. Otherwise Hedström and Molin were as thick as thieves, and they refused to listen to older colleagues like himself and Gösta. Well, Gösta was probably not the best example of a good cop, Ernst had to admit, but his many years on the force deserved respect. And it was no wonder that he'd lost interest in putting any energy into his job under the current conditions. When Ernst thought about it more closely, it was probably the fault of the younger officers that he often didn't feel like working and instead made a point of sneaking off on breaks whenever possible. It was a comforting thought. Naturally it wasn't his fault. Not that he hadn't had pangs of guilt about his lacklustre work performance, but it felt good that he'd finally put his finger on the source of the problem. The crux of the matter, so to speak. It was all because of those snot-nosed kids. All at once life felt much, much better. He knocked on the next door.
Frida was carefully combing the doll's hair. It was important for her to look good because she was going to a party. The table in front of her was already set with coffee and cakes. Tiny little plastic cups with fancy red plates. Naturally they were only pretend cakes, but dolls couldn't eat real ones, so that didn't matter.
Sara had always thought it was dumb to play with dolls. She said they were too old for that. Dolls were for babies, Sara had said, but Frida loved playing with dolls. Sara could be so tiresome sometimes. She always had to be the one to decide. Everything had to be the way she wanted it, or else she would sulk and break things. Mamma would get really mad at Sara when she broke Frida's things. Then Sara would have to go home, and Mamma would ring Sara's mamma and her voice sounded so angry. But when
Sara was nice then Frida liked her a lot, so she still wanted to play with her. Just hoping that she'd be nice.
She didn't understand what had happened to Sara. Mamma had explained that she was dead, that she drowned in the sea, but where was she then? In heaven, Mamma had said, but Frida had stood for a long, long time looking up at the sky, and she hadn't seen Sara. She was sure that if Sara had been in heaven she would have waved to her. Since she hadn't, that must mean she wasn't there. So the question was: where was she? She couldn't just disappear, could she? Imagine if Mamma disappeared like that. Frida felt scared all over. If Sara could disappear, could mammas disappear too? She hugged her doll tight to her chest, trying to push away that nasty idea.
There was something else she wondered about too. Mamma had said that the old men who came and rang the doorbell and told them about Sara were police officers. Frida knew that you were supposed to tell the police everything. You could never lie to them. But she had promised Sara not to tell anybody about the nasty old man. Did she have to keep her promise to someone who was gone? If Sara was gone, then she wouldn't find out that Frida had told about the old man. But what if she came back and heard that Frida had tattled? Then she'd be madder than she ever was before. She might even smash everything in Frida's room, including her doll. Frida decided that it was best not to say anything about the nasty old man.
'Flygare, have you got a minute?' Patrik had been careful to knock on Gösta's door, but he saw his colleague hastily shut down a golf game on his computer.
'Sure, I probably have a minute,' said Gösta sullenly, painfully aware that Patrik had glimpsed his less than noble pursuit during working hours. 'Is this about the girl?' he went on in a more pleasant tone. 'I heard from Annika that it wasn't an accident. Bloody awful,' he said, shaking his head.
'Yes, Ernst and I have just been out talking with the family,' Patrik said, taking a seat in the visitor's chair. 'We told them that now it's a murder investigation. We asked all the family members where they were at the time Sara disappeared, and whether they knew anyone who'd want to harm her.'
Gösta gave Patrik an inquisitive look. 'Do you think that someone in the family might have killed her?'
'Right now I don't think anything. But in any case, it's important to eliminate them from the investigation as soon as possible. At the same time we'll have to check whether there are any known sex offenders in the area.'
'But I thought the girl hadn't been violated, from what Annika told me,' said Gösta.
'Not according to what the M.E. could see, but a little girl who's been murdered…' Patrik didn't finish his sentence, but Gösta understood what he meant. There had been far too many stories
in the media about the exploitation of children for them to ignore that possibility.
'On the other hand,' Patrik went on, 'to my surprise I got an immediate answer when I asked whether they knew anyone who might wish them harm.'
Gösta held up his hand. 'Let me guess: Lilian threw Kaj to the wolves.'
Patrik gave a little frown at the expression. 'Well, I suppose you could put it that way. In any event there doesn't seem to be any love lost between them. We canvassed the neighbourhood and had an informal interview with Kaj as well. You might say there are plenty of old grudges beneath the surface.'
Gösta snorted. 'Beneath the surface isn't the expression I'd use. It's a drama that's been going on in broad daylight for almost ten years. And personally I'm fed up with it.'
'Well, I gathered from Annika that you're the one who has taken the reports they've filed against each other over the years. Could you tell me a bit about them?'
Without answering at once, Gösta turned round and took a binder from the bookshelf behind his desk. He hastily paged through it and found what he was looking for.
'I only have stuff from the most recent years here; the rest is down in archives.'
Patrik nodded.
Gösta leafed through the binder, skimming over some of the pages he found.
'You might as well take this binder. There's a bunch of good details in here. Complaints from both sides about everything you could imagine.'
'About what, for example?'
"Trespassing - Kaj apparently cut across their property on one occasion, and his life was actually threatened - Lilian clearly said to Kaj that he should watch out if he valued his life.' Gösta kept paging through the binder. 'And then we have a number of complaints about Kaj's son, Morgan. Lilian claimed that he was spying on her, and I quote, " boys like that have an overdeveloped sex drive, I've heard, so he's surely planning to rape me," end quote. And this is just a small selection.'
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