I knew what to do. I had seen Mother do it many times. I sat down. The wooden floor was covered by a big fluffy rug that was soft to sit on. I did what Mother always did. With the box in one hand and the stick in the other I pulled it with the tip along the side of the box. When it got warm in my hand I let go of the stick, which quickly fell down among the fluff in the rug. At first nothing happened. Then a little yellow flame came up. It flickered. Changed color. I wondered how it could do that. Become a different color like that. When it got bigger I was forced to move back. I met Stefan’s terrified gaze before the three of them ran out of the room. The rest happened quickly but still as if in slow motion. Mother, Father, and Aunt Anna came running. Someone grabbed hold of me. I did not want to go. I wanted to stay. To see all the colors.
A large black stain on the floor remained after Aunt Anna had poured several pans of water on it, and thrown out the rug. I wondered how all the pretty colors could turn to just black. Father scolded. He yelled that he did not understand what was wrong with me. That they couldn’t cope with me. Aunt Anna swore and said that I had always been a problem.
When we got home Father did as he always did when I had done something wrong. He unlocked the door to the cellar and forced me down. While I was on the stairs he shouted to Mother that he was tired of this shit. That it was enough now.
It was right when he locked the door behind me that he said those words: “We have to give her away.”
“Everyone wants three children, Leona. Children are the most precious thing we have,” said Peter.
I didn’t answer.
We have to give her away…We have to give her away…We have to…The words repeated themselves in my head. Give me away? Where to? I didn’t understand. The one time I had heard about something like that was when Mother said something about people who had left their cats behind in the country after summer vacation, and the cats didn’t survive.
They died.
I remained standing on the stone floor in the cellar, without turning on the light. I just stood there, holding fast onto the railing. My whole body felt heavy. Everything was dark now. Not even the glow of the stars enticed me to the window. There and then I realized.
I had to become like them.
Like everyone else.
To survive.
“Good night,” I said.
The only thing we actually had in common, Peter and I, were our feelings for the children. At the beginning, a family with two children had been a must for me. It was yet another step toward being the person I had always strived to be.
The ordinary family.
The ordinary life.
With Peter I had achieved that.
No other person would think that having feelings for your children was strange. But I could not stop wondering at it. For my entire life I had sought, searched for, and tried to imitate real emotions. Sometimes I got the idea that they were there, but deep down I had always known that they had never actually materialized. Then the children arrived and a storm of emotions washed over me. A part of my inner emotional world opened up. An extremely limited world, but nevertheless a world that seemed to exist after all.
When Beatrice arrived I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I was fascinated and in love with this little creature who clung to me so tightly. I found myself feeling a strange rush of emotions. Beatrice and I became as one. Her needs were the only thing I cared about. And she had needs which only I could satisfy.
But then it changed.
By the time she was one she had already started to turn more and more to Peter. I couldn’t put her to bed or console her any longer. If I tried she cried even more. It was just Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.
I heard that I shouldn’t worry, that some girls early on turn toward their fathers, that it would change. But it never did.
I wanted another child. I hoped for a boy this time. He would attach himself to me. Then I could show that I was a good mother. A mother who loved her child and was loved by her child. When Benjamin was born the same strong emotions poured over me.
He was perfect.
Two children was perfect.
A happy family just like all the others. Neither more nor less, just as I had always striven for. But that was then. Now everything was different.
EIGHTEEN
Pelle was sitting in front of a computer screen at the far end of the room. I didn’t understand why so many of my colleagues chose to sit with their backs to the door. Personally, I hated the idea of not knowing who might come in while you were concentrating on the screen. For someone like me, who played poker during work hours, it was inconceivable to have the screen turned so that it could be seen from the corridor.
“Are you sitting there pretending to work again, Pelle?” I said, trying to sound cheerful.
He turned around and grinned.
“Leona! It’s been a while. Great to see you. Come on in.”
I went in and looked around. On one wall was a framed picture of Pelle holding a globe-shaped trophy, while on the bulletin board a number of medals were hanging from a cord. I had never understood bowling. I thought it was only retired people who were involved in that kind of thing.
“More medals have been put up since I was here last.”
Many officers brought medals and trophies to work. Considering how much time we spent at the office, perhaps it was a way of enjoying what you had achieved while at the same time displaying your prowess to others besides your partner and your children. Personally I preferred a tasteful office without a lot of clutter on the walls. Apart from a photograph of the children, I had almost no personal items in mine.
“There’s been a lot going on up here lately,” said Pelle. “The politician case has taken the life out of us. It’s sad that it was closed, but at the same time it’s nice that it’s finally over.”
I was grateful that he had mentioned the case, because I had had no idea how I was going to bring it up.
“It was surprising that no one was indicted. It felt like a pretty sure thing, huh?” I said.
“We knew what was going on but the prosecutor didn’t think the evidence went far enough. Unfortunately the whole thing smelled rotten. There was a rumor that the government was putting a lot of pressure on the prosecutor. That there could be a snag there. What it was I don’t know.”
So it was just as Christer Skoog had suspected. Something wasn’t right about the investigation. I had also heard the gossip, but I hadn’t known whether there was anything to it. Investigators were normally very careful about speculating about complicated cases, so when there were those kinds of rumors floating around there was usually some truth to them.
“The prosecutor, who is otherwise extremely capable, screwed up big time. Intentionally, in my opinion,” said Pelle.
“Was it true that the prostitute described the course of events in great detail at the hearing?”
I hoped that my curiosity wasn’t too obvious. I decided to tone down my questions.
“I was the one who questioned her. The woman was telling the truth the whole time, I’d bet my left hand on it.”
“And then you have to remember that you’re actually left-handed,” I said, smiling.
“You bet! Why use your right hand when the left is so much better,” said Pelle, winking.
He got up from his chair.
“Damn it, Leona, we had a good time together before we both sat down behind our desks and became pen pushers. Why don’t we run off to a desert island together?”
That was my cue. Pelle was nice, but a little too familiar at times. I headed toward the door.
“You’ll have to stop by and say hello some time. If I’m not in my usual office, search around in the corridor. Claes has fits sometimes and rearranges us like little puppets down there,” I said.
“Ah, we should go out. We can have dinner this week and talk old memories, my treat.”
“Sure, I’ll be in touch,” I said on my way out.
I sighed.
The risk was now imminent that Pelle would be hanging at my heels for the next few weeks, just as he did last time we happened to run into each other at a half-day conference. In any case, though, what I had found out showed that Christer Skoog was on the trail of something. I didn’t have much to give him, but a little at a time would hopefully keep him calm. I entered his number.
“Christer Skoog.”
“I have your info,” I said.
“One moment.”
I could hear that he was with other people. After a rustling sound a door could be heard closing on the other end.
“Okay. What have you got for me?”
Now Christer sounded completely different. His abrupt, caustic tone made it clear which of us had the power.
“This definitely appears to have something to do with corruption. The government has put some kind of pressure on the prosecutor.”
“Damn, this is going to be good. More?”
“The investigators are convinced that all three are guilty.”
“Why?”
“The prostitute was highly credible in their eyes.”
“Okay. More.”
“I don’t have more. What the hell, I’m not a fucking reference book,” I said.
“I would skip that attitude if I were you, Leona, and remember what kind of information I have on you. I need more information, do you understand? You’ll have to see about bringing something more next time you call — that is, tomorrow.”
Christer Skoog hung up. Damn it. I was going to have to search in our databases for their names. Already by doing only that I risked being fired. The politician investigation was access-protected anyway, so that curious police officers couldn’t go in to read — and leak — sensitive information. Requesting all the investigation’s documents from the archive wasn’t an option. For one thing all inquiries were registered, and besides, the amount of redacted material in this kind of sensitive investigation wouldn’t leave much valuable information. I would have to find a different solution.
NINETEEN
Olivia must have fallen asleep, because she woke up when the door opened. She squinted toward the glow from the living room that lit up the bedroom and saw Daddy’s large silhouette. He went up to the mattress and pulled her close. He was probably being nice again now. It was only when he was nice that he took hold of her slowly and gently like that.
“Now you’re going to make your Daddy really happy. We are going over all of this carefully so there won’t be any mistakes. Because you know what will happen if something goes wrong?”
If only he could always be this nice. This time she would not make a single mistake. Daddy would be so proud, and he would take her home to Mommy again. He would tell Mommy how good she had been. Olivia sat up.
Daddy turned on the ceiling light and spread a big map out on the floor alongside the mattress. Olivia was tired but tried to look carefully anyway. There were lots of lines and dots and patterns in all directions.
“Look carefully now. Here is where I let you off.”
He drew a cross on the map with a red pen. She had got one like that from Grandma as a Christmas present once. She had drawn a pretty red sun with it and a lamb that lay and basked in the sunshine. Mommy had been very happy when she gave it to her.
“Then you walk straight ahead on that street, and around the corner, and a little on that street, and then you’re there. Do you understand?”
Olivia nodded, although she didn’t understand completely. There were so many roads. At a lesson in school the teacher had shown her a map but it didn’t look at all like this one.
“Daddy, how long are we going to be here?”
It was only now that his frown was gone that she dared to ask.
“Concentrate now, Olivia. We’re going to be here until you’ve done this completely right. Put on your clothes, and then we’ll go.”
This was not the first time she and Daddy had been out driving in the middle of the night. It was the only time that Olivia got to go out. Apart from when she had done her assignment, but she had only done that once since they came here. It was cold, but she still liked getting out of the apartment. Daddy let her sit in the front seat, though only if she sank down so she wasn’t as visible. The streetlights and headlights of other cars moved past and lit up the inside of the car. She looked at Daddy. He still looked nice.
Olivia had no idea where Daddy was going.
“Here it is,” said Daddy, stopping the car by the curb. “Do you see?”
Olivia nodded. She saw a narrow street with only two cars and a sidewalk with a lot of cobblestones. There were a few small shops and a restaurant, too.
“I’ll let you off here and then you walk just the way we practiced in the apartment. A little hunched up and looking down. And keep the hood of the rain cape a little over your face. You absolutely mustn’t talk to anyone and not stop for anything, just like the last time, do you remember?”
Olivia nodded again.
“Olivia, answer, damn it!”
“Yes, yes, I remember, Daddy.”
Now she had to listen carefully because Daddy was starting to get angry again.
“There are going to be a lot of cars here and you will need to walk as close to them as possible right up to the corner over there. Then you go to the right.”
Daddy pointed. Olivia had learned right and left long ago but Daddy probably didn’t know that. He started the car and drove up to the corner where he turned right.
“Then you continue here, down to here.”
He stopped outside a large entry where there was a yellow-and-black sign. Olivia could read what it said.
“F-o-r-e-x. What is that, Daddy?”
“Listen now, Olivia. You go up this little stairway to the entry, and open the door. Inside it there are a few more steps before you get in. Then you do exactly like before. When you come out again you keep going up this street. Between these planted trees and the parked cars. Then into that narrow street.”
He drove up to a dark, narrow street.
“Here. Do you see? Then you do exactly like before.”
It did not look hard at all. She knew that she had to do everything right. Like Daddy said, it was her own fault that she had to stay. If she had only understood faster and been nice the whole time, she probably would have been home with Mommy already.
Daddy said that they were done.
“And Olivia, you know what to do if something goes wrong.”
Olivia knew that she was not allowed to talk to anyone other than Daddy and the quiet lady. Daddy had said that someone might come and take her away if she wasn’t good and didn’t do as he said. Olivia didn’t know for certain what he meant by that. You might end up in jail if you did stupid things, she knew that, but Daddy said that they were not doing stupid things, only nice ones. She was still worried about ending up in jail, though. Once she had asked Daddy about it and he had got angry and hit her right in the stomach so that she couldn’t breathe. After that she did not dare ask again. If she was good and did exactly as he said she would probably not end up in jail.
TWENTY
As usual in the evenings I lay in bed waiting for Peter to fall asleep. It seldom took long, which was particularly important now. Tonight I didn’t have many hours to myself. I had to get up early in the morning, but I had already prepared everything.
He didn’t wake up as I tiptoed out of the room. I had left the computer on so that it would be quick to log in. When I moved the mouse the screensaver disappeared. I opened up a window and logged in. People from all over the world were logged in too. Twenty-four hours a day. We all shared the same interest.
Poker.
Money.
At the beginning my interest didn’t have that much to do with money. It was the excitement, the kick, the challenge. During the time I had been playing I had both lost and won. In the beginning, it was slow. In my good moments I thought I probably broke even. In reality, that was far from the truth. To be hone
st I hardly understood how it was possible to have lost so much money as I had in so little time. As luck would have it that had turned around and now it often went really well.
I played both cash games and tournaments. There were a lot to choose from, some with several thousand players. Even though I chose tournaments with only a couple of hundred players it often took several hours before they were done. I had been depositing a few thousand at a time into the gaming account for several months. Last month it had been going so well that I had now started playing for higher stakes. Every time I won a tournament I cursed myself that I hadn’t bet even more. Now it was time to raise it one more notch. Increase the stakes.
I scrolled around among the virtual tables on the screen, found one that was suitable, and sat down. I looked around. There were eight people, plus me, at the table. Everyone had their own avatars except one. I called myself Modesty and put in a picture of the cartoon character Modesty Blaise. It was completely trite and silly, but here you could be who you wanted without anyone caring. Somehow the character and the name suited my playing style — tight and aggressive. I had quickly learned to play tight after I realized I had been making the biggest beginner’s mistake in poker: being too eager and willing to stay in the game despite having a poor hand. The times I took a chance and went in with low or medium cards I went out headfirst. The past month I’d had the patience to wait for high cards. Once they came, I played aggressively, with high amounts.
The table had a mahogany border and was covered by a green cloth that was supposed to represent velvet. I wondered whether the poker tables really looked like that in a live casino. I had been at Casino Cosmopol a number of times on duty, but strolling in there and sitting down at a poker table was inconceivable. No one knew that I played. Online I was completely anonymous.
Leona Page 10
