'Nobody can come into my house! It's mine!'
'We have a warrant,' said one policeman in an attempt to reason with him. 'We have to do our job, so please let us in.'
'No, you're just going to mess things up!' Morgan spread his arms even wider.
'We promise to be careful and disturb as little as possible. On the other hand, we may have to take a few things with us - if you have a computer in there, for instance.'
Morgan interrupted the policeman with a loud bellow. His eyes flicked back and forth and his body had started to twitch uncontrollably.
'No, no, no, no, no,' he chanted. He looked ready to defend his computers with his life, and Monica believed this was quite close to the truth. She hurried over to the group.
'What's going on? Can I help?'
'Who are you?' asked the policeman standing closest to her, but he didn't take his eyes off Morgan as he spoke.
'I'm Morgan's mother. I live here.' She pointed to the main house.
'Could you please explain to your son that we have a warrant to enter the cabin and look around? We're also permitted to take any computer equipment that may be in there.'
At the mention of the computers Morgan began to shake his head violently and again chanted, 'No, no, no, no…'
With great calm Monica walked up to him. As she fixed her gaze on the police officers, she put her arm round her son and stroked his back.
'Could you please tell me first why you're here? Then I'm sure I can help you.'
The younger of the two officers looked embarrassed and lowered his eyes. The older one who was certainly more hardened answered her calmly, 'We've taken in your husband for questioning, and we also have a warrant to search the premises.'
'May I ask why?' She could hear that she sounded unnecessarily cool, but to see those officers standing there trying to get past Morgan without giving her a reasonable explanation was not something she intended to accept.
'Your husband's name has come up in connection with possession of child pornography.'
Her hand stroking Morgan's back stopped short. She tried to speak but all that came out was a wheeze.
'Child pornography?' She cleared her throat to try and regain control of her voice. 'You must be mistaken. My husband, involved in child pornography?'
Thoughts began to tumble round in her head. Things she'd always wondered about, always pondered. But most overwhelming was a feeling of relief. They hadn't come because of what she feared most.
She took a few seconds to collect herself and then turned to Morgan.
'Now listen to me. You have to let them go inside the cabin. And you have to let them take the computers. You have no choice, it's the police. It's their right.'
'But what if they mess things up? And what about my schedule?' The shrill pitch of his voice wasn't the usual monotone, but displayed unusual sensitivity.
'I'm sure they'll be careful, just as they said. And you have no choice.' She stressed this last sentence and could feel him begin to calm down. It was always easier for Morgan to handle situations in which he had no choice.
'Do you promise not to mess things up?'
The policemen nodded, and Morgan slowly took a step away from the door.
'And you have to be careful with the files on the computers. I have a lot of jobs stored there.'
Again they nodded, and now he stepped out of the way and let them go inside.
'Why are they doing this, Mamma?'
'I don't know,' Monica lied. Relief was still the dominant emotion inside her. But slowly the realization of what the officers had said began to sink in. A feeling of disgust began to form in her stomach and work its way upwards. She took Morgan by the arm and led him to the front of the house. She kept turning her head to look back with concern towards the cabin.
'Don't worry, they promised to be careful.'
'Are we going inside the big house?' said Morgan. 'I don't usually go in the big house this time of day.'
'No, I know that,' said Monica. 'But today we have to do something totally different. We can't bother the policemen. So you have to come with me to Aunt Gudrun's house.'
He looked confused. 'But we only go there at Christmas. Or when one of them has a birthday.'
'I know,' Monica said patiently. 'But today we have to make an exception.'
He pondered this for a moment and then decided that there was logic in what she said.
As they walked towards the car Monica saw out of the corner of her eye the curtain drawn aside in the Florins' kitchen. Lilian stood in the window watching them. She was smiling.
'So, Kaj. This is certainly not a pleasant situation.' Patrik sat facing him, with Martin next to him and Mellberg sitting discreetly on a chair in the corner. To Patrik's great relief he had voluntarily offered to play a passive role in the interrogation. Patrik would have preferred not to have him there, but he was the chief, after all.
Kaj didn't answer. He dropped his chin to his chest, giving Patrik and Martin a close-up view of the top of his head. His hair had thinned over the years so that his pink scalp shone through the wisps of black hair.
'Do you have any explanation for why your name appears on an order list for child pornography? And don't give me that old story that it must be a mistake. Your name and address are both on the list, so there's no question that you were the one who placed the order.'
'Somebody must be trying to frame me,' Kaj muttered into his lap.
'Oh, really?' said Patrik, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 'Then perhaps you can tell us why anyone would go to the trouble of trying to put you in jail. What sort of arch-enemies have you made over the years?'
Kaj didn't answer. Martin slammed the palm of his hand on the table to get his attention, which made Kaj jump.
'Didn't you hear the question? Who would be interested in sending you to jail?'
Still no reply, so Martin continued. 'That's not so easy to answer, is it? Because there isn't anyone.'
There were a number of printouts in front of Patrik and Martin. Patrik leafed through them for a moment in silence, pulling out a few pages and gathering them into a pile.
'You must realize that we have plenty of material about you. We have names of others who…' he searched for the right term - 'share the same interest and who you've been in contact with. We have information on when you ordered material from them, we know that you've submitted material yourself, and we also have records of chat sessions that our colleagues in Göteborg have been skilled enough to get their hands on. There are a number of talented computer guys over there, you understand. And they weren't stopped by the elaborate firewalls that you all set up so that no one could hack into your little group and eavesdrop on the cheery topics that you discuss. Nothing is foolproof, you know.'
Now Kaj looked up and his eyes flitted restlessly from Patrik to the printouts in front of him. His whole world was tumbling down as the second hand ticked on the wall clock behind him. Patrik saw that he was shaken by the revelation that someone had been able to get into files they had thought were completely protected. Now Kaj was clearly wondering exactly how much they knew. It was just the right time to press him further.
'At this very moment we're going through your whole house. And our colleagues aren't amateurs. There is no hiding place they haven't seen before. No brilliant secret cubby-holes that they can't find. And your computer will be sent to Uddevalla to be examined by some guys who are real hackers. You know, guys who could get into banks on the Internet and move a little money around if they felt like it and if they didn't happen to be on the side of the law.'
Patrik thought he might be exaggerating the skills of his colleagues a bit, but Kaj didn't know that. And he could see that the tactic was working. Little beads of sweat had begun to appear on Kaj's brow, and he could feel rather than see Kaj's legs start to shake uncontrollably.
'And even though you may be an amateur when it comes to computers, perhaps Morgan has told you that just because you've deleted a
file, that doesn't mean it's gone. Our computer guys can restore most of everything, as long as there hasn't been damage to the hard drive.'
Martin took up where Patrik had left off. 'As soon as they've had a chance to go through your computer, we'll have a little talk.
Then we'll know precisely what you've been up to. Göteborg and our own staff are working full speed to try and identify the children who appear in the material the police confiscated. The information we have so far indicates that your favourite victims are young boys. Is that correct? Well, is it true, Kaj? Do you prefer boys with no hair on their chest - young, innocent lads?'
Kaj's lower lip was quivering, but he still said nothing.
Patrik leaned forward and lowered his voice. Now he had reached the moment that was the real point of the interrogation.
'But what about girls? Does it work with little girls too? Pretty tempting with one living so close by, right next door in the neighbours' house. Must have been almost irresistible. Especially since it would be a chance to get back at Lilian. What a feeling. Right under her nose, to avenge all those years of injustice. But something went wrong, didn't it? How did it happen? Did the girl start to struggle, say that she was going to tell her mamma, so you had to drown her to make her shut up?'
Mouth agape, Kaj looked first at Patrik, then at Martin. His eyes were big and shiny. He shook his head.
'No, I had nothing to do with that. I never touched her, I swear!'
The last words came out like a shriek, and Kaj looked as though he would have a heart attack at any moment. Patrik wondered if he ought to interrupt the questioning, but decided to continue a bit longer.
'And why should we believe you? We have proof that you have a sexual interest in children, and we'll soon know if there's evidence that you've actually assaulted anyone. A seven-year-old girl living in the house next door to yours was found drowned. That's an odd coincidence, don't you think?'
He didn't mention that no trace of sexual assault had been found on Sara. But as Pedersen had said, that didn't necessarily mean that one hadn't taken place.
'But I swear I had nothing to do with the girl's death! She's never been inside our house, I swear it!'
'That remains to be seen,' said Martin grimly, casting a glance at Patrik. He saw the same 'bloody hell' expression in his eyes that he felt in his own. Patrik gave a slight nod and Martin got up to go make a phone call. They had forgotten to order a team of techs to check the bathroom. When that mistake was corrected and he'd been promised an immediate response, he went back in the interrogation room. Patrik was still asking about Sara.
'So you really expect us to believe it when you say that you were never once tempted to… take an interest in the neighbour's girl. She was a sweet girl, too.'
'I didn't touch her, I told you. And I wouldn't call her sweet. A bloody child of Satan is what she was. Sneaking into the garden in the summertime and pulling up all Monica's flowers. No doubt her fucking grandmother put her up to it.'
Patrik was shocked at how fast Kaj's nervousness vanished and his hatred of Lilian Florin took over. Even under these circumstances the feelings were so ingrained that for a moment they made Kaj forget why he was sitting there. Then Patrik saw reality sink in again, and his shoulders slumped as he hunched over the table.
'I didn't kill the little girl,' said Kaj quietly. 'And I never touched her, I swear.'
Patrik again exchanged a look with Martin and then made a decision. They probably weren't going to get much further right now. Hopefully they'd have more material once the search was completed of Kaj's house and computer. And if they were really lucky, the techs would find something when they examined the bathroom.
Martin took Kaj back to his cell, and Mellberg left right after that. Patrik remained where he was. He looked at the clock. By now he'd had enough too. He intended to drive home and kiss Erica and bury his nose in Maja's little neck and drink up the scent of her. That was probably the only thing that could get rid of the cloying feeling he had after sitting locked in a small room with Kaj. A sense of inadequacy also made him long for the security of home. He just couldn't screw this case up. People like Kaj shouldn't be allowed to go free. Especially not if they had a little girl's death on their conscience.
He was just about to go out the front door when Annika stopped him. 'You have visitors; they've been waiting quite a while. Gösta wants to talk to you ASAP. And I got a tip that you ought to take a look at right away.'
Patrik sighed and let the door glide shut. It seemed he'd have to give up his plan to go home. Now it looked as though he'd have to ring Erica instead and tell her he'd be late. That was a conversation he wasn't looking forward to.
Charlotte's finger hesitated in front of the doorbell. Then she made up her mind, took a deep breath, and pressed the button. She heard it ring inside. For a second she considered turning on her heel and fleeing, but she heard footsteps inside and forced herself to stand still.
She vaguely recognized the woman who opened the door. The town was small enough that they'd probably run into each other, and she saw that the other woman knew exactly who she was. After a brief moment of hesitation Jeanette opened the door and stepped aside.
Charlotte was surprised at how young Jeanette looked. Twenty- five, Niclas had said when she pressed him. She didn't know why she wanted to know such details. It was like a primitive need, an urge to know as much as possible. Maybe it was because she hoped somehow to understand what he was looking for that she couldn't seem to give him. And maybe that was precisely why she'd been inexorably drawn here. She had never before confronted the women from any of his affairs. She had wanted to see them but never dared. But after Sara's death everything changed. It was as though she were invulnerable. All terrors had vanished. She had already been struck by the worst possible thing that could happen to a person. So much of what had previously paralysed and terrified her now seemed like insignificant obstacles. Not that it was easy to come here, she wouldn't say that. But she had done it. Sara was dead, so she had done it.
'What do you want?' Jeanette looked at her warily.
Charlotte felt big in comparison with this other woman who was probably no more than five foot three. At five foot nine Charlotte felt like a giant. Jeanette had also not had her figure altered by two pregnancies. Charlotte couldn't help noticing that her breasts in the tight top didn't need a bra to look perky. In her mind's eye Charlotte pictured Jeanette naked, in bed with Niclas, who was caressing her perfect breasts. She shook her head to get rid of the image. She had already spent far too much time on that sort of self-torment over the years. But the images no longer bothered her as much. She had worse images than that in her head - images of Sara, floating in the water.
Charlotte forced herself back to reality. In a calm voice she said, 'I just want to talk a little. Could we have a cup of coffee?'
She didn't know whether Jeanette had expected her to show up or whether she found the situation so surreal that she couldn't really take it in. At any rate, Jeanette's face showed no surprise. She simply nodded and went into the kitchen, with Charlotte following.
Curious, she looked around the flat. It was close to what she'd imagined. A little two-room place with a lot of pine furniture, frilly curtains, and souvenirs of trips abroad as the primary decoration. Jeanette apparently saved every öre she earned to be able to take party trips to the sunshine, and those trips were probably the high point of her life. Except when she was fucking married men, that is, Charlotte thought bitterly as she sat down at the kitchen table. She wasn't feeling as self-assured as she hoped she looked. Her heart was pounding hard, making her very nervous. But she'd just looked the other woman in the eye, seeing for the first time what sort of person could make a roll in the hay weigh heavier than marriage vows, children and decency.
To her surprise Charlotte was disappointed. She had always imagined Niclas's lovers to be in a whole different class. Sure, Jeanette was cute and curvy, she couldn't ignore that, but she
was so - she searched for the right word so insipid. She radiated no warmth, no energy. From what Charlotte could see of her and her home, this woman didn't seem to have either the capacity or ambition to do anything other than just go with the flow in life.
'Here,' said Jeanette peevishly, setting a coffee cup in front of Charlotte. Then she sat down across the table and began nervously sipping her coffee. Charlotte noticed that she had long, perfectly manicured nails. Yet another thing that didn't exist in the world of mothers of small children.
'Are you surprised to see me here?' said Charlotte, observing with ostensible calm the woman facing her.
Jeanette shrugged her shoulders. 'Dunno. Maybe. I haven't thought that much about you.'
At least she's honest, Charlotte thought. Whether it was from boldness or sheer stupidity, she couldn't tell yet.
'Did you know that Niclas told me about you?'
Once again the same nonchalant shrug. 'I knew it would come out sooner or later.'
'How did you know that?'
'People talk so much in this town. There's always somebody who's seen someone somewhere, and then they feel compelled to pass it on.'
'Sounds like this isn't the first time you've played this game,' said Charlotte.
A little smile tugged at the corners of Jeanette's mouth. 'I can't help it if the best ones are already taken. Not that it usually bothers them much.'
Charlotte's eyes narrowed. 'So Niclas didn't worry about it either? That he was married and had two kids?' The word 'had' stuck in her throat and she felt her emotions once again well up and threaten to take over. With an effort she pushed them back.
The Stone Cutter Page 29
