The Stone Cutter

by Camilla Lackberg

  Lilian opened the door before they had a chance to knock. Patrik suspected that she had been watching for them ever since they left. In the hall stood a pair of shoes that hadn't been there before, and Patrik assumed they belonged to Lilian's friend Eva who'd come over to lend her moral support.

  'So,' said Lilian. 'What did he have to say in his defence? Can we finish that report now, so that you can take him in?'

  Patrik took a deep breath. 'We'd just like to have a little talk with your husband first, before we proceed with a report. There are still a few things that seem unclear.'

  For a second he saw uncertainty pass over her face, but she regained her belligerent expression at once.

  'That's absolutely out of the question. Stig is ill. He's upstairs in bed resting and can't be disturbed under any circumstances.' Her voice sounded strained with a hint of nervousness to it. Patrik could see that Lilian had also forgotten about Stig as a potential witness. So it was even more important that they be allowed to talk with him.

  'Unfortunately it can't be helped. I'm sure he could see us for a minute or two,' said Patrik in the most authoritative voice he could muster, taking off his jacket at the same time to emphasize his intent.

  Lilian was just about to open her mouth to protest when Gösta said in his most official police tone of voice, 'If we aren't allowed to speak to Stig, it might be considered a matter of obstruction of justice. It wouldn't look good in the official report.'

  Patrik was doubtful whether his colleague's assertion would hold in the long run, but it seemed to have the desired effect on Lilian, who furiously strode toward the stairs. When it looked as though she planned to go upstairs with them, Gösta placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

  'We can find our way, thanks.'

  'Hut…' Her eyes flickered, searching for some other valid P protests, but she finally had to give up.

  'Well, don't say that I didn't warn you. Stig is not doing well, and if he gets worse because you go stomping in and asking a lot of questions, then…'

  They left the statement hanging as they went up the stairs. The guest room lay directly to the left, and since Lilian had left the I door open, it wasn't hard to locate her spouse. Stig was ensconced in the bed, but he was awake and had turned his head towards the door in anticipation. Judging by how well Lilian's excited voice was now carrying up from the kitchen, he had no doubt heard that they were on their way up. Patrik entered the room before Gösta and had to force himself not to gasp. The man lying in bed was so frail and emaciated that his bones under the covers seemed to jut out in relief. His cheeks were sunken, and his skin had a grey, unhealthy colour. His hair had turned prematurely white, making him look considerably older than he was. There was a nauseating odour of illness in the room, and Patrik had to suppress a desire to breathe only through his mouth.

  Dubiously he reached out a hand to Stig to introduce himself. Gösta did the same, and then they looked around the tiny room for a place to sit down. It felt altogether too officious to stand towering over Stig as he lay there in his sickbed. Stig raised a greyish hand and pointed to the edge of the bed.

  'Unfortunately this is all I can offer you.' His voice was dry and feeble, and Patrik was again shocked at how utterly exhausted he looked. This man looked far too ill to be at home. He should be in hospital. But it was none of his business, and there was a doctor living in the house, after all.

  Patrik and Gösta sat down cautiously on the edge of the bed. Stig grimaced a little when the bed bounced, and Patrik hurried to apologize, afraid that they had caused him pain. Stig waved off the apology.

  Patrik cleared his throat. 'First of all, I'd like to start by offering my condolences for the loss of your granddaughter.' Again he heard how formal his voice sounded, a tone that he himself despised.

  Stig closed his eyes and seemed to collect himself to reply. The words had obviously stirred up emotions that he was struggling to overcome.

  'Technically, Sara was not really my grandchild - her grandfather, Charlotte's father, died eight years ago - but in my heart she always was. I've cared about her from when she was a little baby until…' he paused, 'now at the end.' He closed his eyes again, but when he opened them he seemed to have regained his composure.

  'We've talked a bit with the rest of the family,' said Patrik, 'to find out exactly what happened that morning. I wonder whether you might have heard anything in particular. For example, do you know what time Sara left the house?'

  Stig shook his head. 'I take strong sleeping pills and don't usually wake up before around ten. And by then she was already… gone.' He closed his eyes once more.

  'When we asked your wife whether she could think of anyone who may have wanted to harm Sara, she named your neighbour, Kaj Wiberg. Do you agree with that assessment?'

  'Did Lilian say that Kaj murdered Sara?' Stig looked at them sceptically.

  'Well, not in so many words, but she hinted that there were reasons why your neighbour might wish your family ill.'

  Stig let out a long sigh. 'Well, I've never understood what it is with those two. The feud was already going on before I came into the picture, before Lennart died. To be honest, I don't know who cast the first stone, and I daresay that Lilian is just as capable of keeping the feud going as Kaj is. I've tried to stay out of it as much as possible, but it's not easy.' He shook his head. 'No, I don't really understand why they carry on the way they do. I know my wife as a warm, sympathetic woman, but when it comes to Kaj and his family she seems to have a blind spot. You know, sometimes I think that she and Kaj actually enjoy the whole thing. That they live for the sake of the battle. But that sounds absurd. Why would anyone voluntarily keep it up the way they do, with legal action and everything? And it's cost us plenty of money. Kaj can afford it, but we're not as well off, retired as we both are. No, why would anyone want to keep on fighting like this?'

  The question was purely rhetorical. Stig wasn't expecting an answer.

  'Have they ever come to blows?' Patrik asked with interest.

  'Good Lord, no,' Stig said emphatically. 'They aren't that crazy.' He laughed.

  Patrik and Gösta exchanged a glance. 'Did you hear that Kaj was over here earlier today?'

  'Yes, I could hardly avoid hearing it,' said Stig. 'There was a frightful commotion down in the kitchen, and he was shouting and carrying on. But Lilian threw him out with his tail between his legs.' He looked at Patrik. 'I don't really understand some people. I mean, regardless of what problems they've had with each other, one would think that he'd show a little sympathy, considering what's happened. With Sara, I mean.'

  Patrik agreed that sympathy should have been the prevailing response in recent days, but unlike Stig he didn't put all the blame on Kaj. Lilian had also displayed an alarming lack of respect for the situation. He felt a nasty suspicion taking shape in his mind. He continued his questions, wanting to have it confirmed. 'Did you see Lilian after Kaj was here?' He held his breath.

  'Of course,' said Stig, who seemed to wonder why Patrik was asking. 'She came upstairs with some tea and told me how shamelessly Kaj had behaved.'

  Now Patrik was beginning to understand why Lilian had looked so uneasy when they told her they wanted to talk to Stig. She had made a tactical error in forgetting about her husband.

  'Did you notice anything different about her?' Patrik asked.

  'Different? How do you mean? She looked a little upset, but that's no wonder.'

  'Nothing to indicate that she'd been slapped in the face?'

  'Slapped in the face? No, absolutely not. Who's making that accusation?' Stig looked bewildered, and Patrik almost felt sorry for him.

  'Lilian claims that Kaj assaulted her when he was here. And she showed us injuries, including on her face, to prove it.'

  'But she didn't have any injuries on her face after Kaj was here. I don't understand…' Stig stirred restlessly, which evoked another grimace of pain.

  Patrik's expression was stern as he signalled with his eyes to
Gösta that they were done.

  'We're going to go downstairs and have another talk with your wife,' he said, trying to get up as carefully as possible.

  'Yes, but who could have…?'

  They left Stig lying there with a confused look on his face. Patrik suspected that he would probably be having a serious talk with his wife after they left. But first they were going to have a serious talk with her.

  He was seething inside as they went downstairs. It was no more than three days since Sara had died, and Lilian was already trying to use her death as a weapon in a petty feud. It was so… callous that he could hardly conceive it was possible. What incensed him most was the fact that she was wasting police time and resources when they needed to focus all their energy on finding the person who had murdered her only grandchild. The fact that Lilian hadn't given a thought to the consequences was so despicable and perverse that he could barely find words to describe her actions.

  When they entered the kitchen he saw from Lilian's expression that she knew the battle was lost.

  'We just got some interesting information from Stig,' Patrik said ominously. Lilian's friend Eva looked at them curiously. She had no doubt swallowed Lilian's story hook, line and sinker, but in a few minutes she might well see her friend in a new light.

  'I don't understand why you persist in bothering someone who's sick in bed, but the police clearly have no consideration for anyone nowadays,' Lilian sputtered in an abortive attempt to regain control.

  'You're certainly right about that,' said Gösta, calmly sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs facing Lilian and Eva. Patrik pulled out a chair next to him and sat down too.

  'It was a good idea that we had a word with Stig as well, because he made a remarkable statement. Perhaps you'd be willing to help out by explaining it.'

  Lilian didn't ask what sort of statement her husband had made. She waited in furious silence for them to continue. It was Gösta who spoke next.

  'He said that you came up to his room after Kaj left, and that there were no signs that anyone had struck you. Nor did you mention it to him. Can you explain that?'

  'I suppose it takes a while before the marks are visible,' Lilian muttered in a brave attempt to salvage the situation. 'And I didn't want to worry Stig, considering his condition. I'm sure you understand.'

  They understood more than that. And she knew it.

  Patrik took over. 'I hope you realize the seriousness of fabricating false accusations.'

  'I didn't fabricate anything,' said Lilian, flaring up. In a somewhat calmer tone she said, 'Well, maybe I… exaggerated a bit.

  But only because he was on the verge of attacking me. I could see it in his eyes.'

  'And the injuries you showed us?'

  She said nothing, nor did she need to. They had already worked out that Lilian had inflicted them on herself before they arrived. For the first time Patrik began to wonder whether there was actually something wrong with her mind.

  Obstinately she said, 'But it was only because you needed a reason to take him in for questioning. Then you could have searched in peace and quiet for proof that he or Morgan murdered Sara. I know it was one of them, and I just wanted to help put you on the right track.'

  Patrik gave her an incredulous look. Either she was more single- minded than anyone he'd ever met, or she was simply a little crazy. In any case, they needed to put a stop to these idiocies.

  'In future we'd appreciate it if you let us do our job. And leave the Wiberg family alone. Is that understood?'

  Lilian nodded, but they could see that she was furious. During the whole conversation her friend had watched her with astonishment. Now she made a point of leaving at the same time Patrik and Gösta did. That friendship had no doubt suffered a shock.

  They didn't discuss Lilian's story on the way back to the station. The whole thing was much too depressing.

  Stig felt a pang of unease as he lay in bed. He knew that Lilian would be angry now, but he didn't quite know what he could have done differently. She had looked completely normal when she came up to his room. He just didn't understand all this nonsense about Kaj assaulting her. Why would she lie about something like that?

  The footsteps on the stairs sounded as angry as he had feared. For an instant he wanted to pull the covers over his head and pretend to be asleep, but he thought better of it. Surely it couldn't be such a big deal. He had simply told the truth; Lilian had to realize that. And besides, the whole thing must have been a mistake.

  The expression on her face said more than he wanted to know. Evidently she was furious with him, and Stig literally cringed under her gaze. He always found it extremely unpleasant when she was in one of these moods. He couldn't understand how someone like his Lilian, who was so amiable and warm, could occasionally be transformed into such a disagreeable person. Suddenly he wondered whether what the police had hinted at really might be true. Had she made up an accusation against Kaj? But he dismissed the idea. They just needed to straighten out this misunderstanding, and then he would grasp the situation.

  'Can't you ever keep your big mouth shut?' She loomed over him, and her sharp tone of voice sent lightning bolts through his head.

  'But my dear, I only told -'

  'The truth? Is that what you wanted to say? That you simply told them the truth? How fortunate we all are to have such upright people as you, Stig. Honest, honourable people who don't give a damn whether they put their own wife in jeopardy. I thought you were supposed to be on my side.'

  He felt saliva spray across his face and hardly recognized the distorted face hovering above him.

  'But I'm always on your side, Lilian. I just didn't know…'

  'Didn't know? Do I have to spell out everything for you, you stupid idiot?'

  'But you didn't say anything to me… and the police are probably just imagining the whole absurd thing. I mean, you wouldn't make up things like that, would you?' Stig was struggling bravely to find some sort of logic in the rage that was directed at him. Only now did he notice the mark on Lilian's face that was starting to take on a purplish hue. His eyes narrowed and he gave her a searching look.

  'What's that mark you have on your face, Lilian? You didn't have it when you came up to see me. Are you saying that what the police hinted at was right? Did you make up a story about Kaj hitting you when he was here?' His voice was incredulous, but he saw Lilian's shoulders droop a bit and needed no further confirmation.

  'Why on earth would you do something so stupid?' Now their roles were reversed. Stig's voice was sharp, and Lilian sank down on the edge of the bed, burying her face in her hands.

  'I don't know, Stig. I can see now that it was stupid, but I wanted them to start looking at Kaj and his family seriously. I'm positive that somehow they're mixed up in Sara's death. Haven't I always told you that man is totally lacking in scruples? And that weird Morgan, sneaking about in the bushes and spying on me. Why don't the police do something?'

  Her body was shaking with sobs, and Stig summoned his last strength to sit up in bed despite the pain and put his arms around his wife. He stroked her back reassuringly, but his eyes were restless and searching.

  When Patrik came home, Erica was sitting alone in the dark, thinking. Kristina had taken Maja out for a walk, and Charlotte had long since gone home. What Charlotte had said was worrying her.

  When Erica heard Patrik open the front door she got up and went to meet him.

  'Why are you sitting here in the dark?' He set a couple of grocery bags on the counter and began turning on lamps. The glare blinded her for a second before she got used to it. Then she sat down heavily at the kitchen table and watched her husband as he unpacked what he had bought.

  'How pleasant things are here at home,' he said cheerfully, looking around. 'It certainly is nice that Mamma can come by and help out occasionally,' he went on, unaware that Erica was giving him the evil eye.

  'Oh yes, it's just peachy,' she said acidly. 'It must be wonderful to come home to a clean
and well-organized home for a change.'

  'Yeah, it sure is!' said Patrik, still clueless that he was digging his own grave deeper with each passing second.

  'Then maybe you should see about staying home in future, so things will be more orderly around here!' Erica yelled.

  Patrik jumped from her sudden increase in volume. He turned round with an astonished look on his face.

  'What did I say now?'

  Erica got up from her chair and stormed out. Sometimes he was too stupid for words. If he didn't get it, she didn't have the energy to explain.

  She sat down again in the dim light of the living room and looked out of the window. The weather outside precisely reflected how she felt inside. Grey, stormy, raw and cold. Deceptively calm periods with occasional strong storms. Tears began running down her cheeks. Patrik came and sat down beside her on the sofa.

  'I'm sorry for being so dumb. It must not be that easy to have Mamma here in the house, is it?'

  She could feel her lower lip quivering. She was so tired of crying. She felt she hadn't done anything else these past few months. If only she'd been prepared for how it would be. The contrast was so great to the joy she'd always believed she would feel when she had a baby. In her darkest moments she almost hated Patrik because he didn't feel the same way she did. The rational part of her was relieved because someone had to keep the family going. But she wished that for just a moment he could put himself in her situation and understand how she felt.

  As if he was able to read her thoughts he said, 'I wish I could change places with you, I really do. But I can't, so you have to stop being so bloody brave and tell me what's going on with you. Maybe you should even go and talk with someone else, a professional. The people at the child care centre could probably help us out.'

  Erica shook her head. Her depression would surely pass of its own accord. It had to. Besides, there were women who had it much worse than she did.

  'Charlotte stopped by today,' she said.

  'How's she doing?' Patrik said quietly.

  'Better, whatever that means.' She paused. 'Are you getting anywhere?'