The prosecutor had also explained to the court that Claes had presumably not committed the crime alone, but that no additional perpetrator could be found.
As the money for the last robbery had been confiscated by the police, there was a considerably smaller sum of money for us to divide up, but that wouldn’t stop me from executing my planned life change. Ronni and Nina had received their share, and Ronni hadn’t been heard from since.
Up on the podium, the county chief constable seemed to be greatly enjoying the sound of his own voice. He spoke in grandiose terms about the police’s basic values and visions for the future, declaring that the children and youth were our future and that the police’s cooperation with Social Services was very important work for preventing young people from taking up a life of crime. I sighed. I’d heard it all before.
My contact with Social Services where Olivia was concerned had been relatively smooth. Olivia had exceeded all my expectations. That girl had something special. I would never forget that. Ronni had clearly explained to her what would happen if she told anyone what she had been involved in. Probably her brain was also doing everything in its power to repress the memories of what happened, but I didn’t see any great risk that she would have difficulties because of it. She was a strong little girl.
I couldn’t help but think that almost everything had worked out. The murder of Christer Skoog still gnawed at my mind. I never liked Christer, but had he deserved to die? The murder investigation had been closed when Nina and I had not managed to gather enough evidence against the finance minister, but I felt a certain satisfaction that Christer’s struggle to get the minister convicted for buying sex had succeeded. Perhaps also for Dina’s sake. Personal Protection had helped her until the trial. After that I heard that she had gone to live with her sister in London.
I could hardly wait until all this was over. Peter and I were still living under the same roof but only discussed practical details concerning the children. In a way I missed him. Probably not like other people miss each other, but still. I was used to our life together and I had great respect for Peter’s involvement and his way of taking care of the children. I felt secure that he was there for them.
The divorce papers were submitted and the apartment was up for sale. Now Benji’s operation awaited.
After that I would leave everything.
Then I would be free.
“I want to thank the previous speakers for the information about what an amazing job you all have done during the year,” the county chief constable continued. “They’ve said it so well that I don’t have much more to add other than to give you all my support and a big thank you. It is a joy to be county chief constable with so many competent colleagues.”
The back-scratchers’ club. I sank down a bit more in my chair. Perhaps I could nap awhile without anyone noticing it.
“Finally I want to point out an incident that occurred during the year, which in many ways was exceptional. A former colleague and close friend of mine was convicted for the robberies where a young girl was forced into committing appalling actions that have probably scarred her for life. However unbelievable I find it, there is now a verdict that I, along with those of you who worked closely with him, must accept. I therefore offer extra support to the Violent Crimes Unit and also will hand over this lovely bouquet of flowers and a gift card for the year’s best investigative effort. They go to Leona Lindberg. Leona, where are you?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. People started looking around for me.
“Leona Lindberg,” the county chief constable said again.
“What’s wrong with you, Leona, stand up,” Fredrik whispered, poking me with his elbow.
As I stood up the whole hall started to applaud. As if in a haze I weaved past a lot of colleagues’ legs along the row of chairs out to the side aisle.
“Leona, thanks for your amazing efforts,” the county chief constable continued with a louder voice in the microphone while people applauded. “You have, with great acuity and brilliant investigative methods, managed to clear up the loathsome robberies that shook our district during the fall.”
I could not think clearly. Was I on my way to receive an award for having put my own boss in prison for three robberies that I had staged myself?
“Without you, Leona, yet another felon would be out free,” said the chief constable.
I was out free to the very highest degree. On my way up to the chief constable at the present moment.
“Even though it is sad that a very capable colleague lost his footing and betrayed the agency, I want us all to be happy that we have associates like you, Leona, who, despite very difficult circumstances, stand up for the law and the police.”
I had made my way past everyone’s legs. My body was numb. Without knowing how, I moved forward along the aisle.
“From the entire Police Department I want to say — thanks!”
My legs had never felt so weak as when I took those five steps up to the podium.
The county chief constable handed over a large bouquet of flowers and pointed toward the microphone at the lectern. I took the flowers and went slowly over to the microphone. I looked out over all my colleagues. There were several hundred police officers there. I searched for some safe person to fix my eyes on. Where was Anette? There sat Fredrik. He smiled at me. Clapped his hands along with the others. The hall fell silent. It seemed like I should say something. What? I didn’t deserve the prize. What if they knew?
I cleared my throat.
Sweated.
“Uh…, thanks! I want to, uh…, thank, uh, everyone who helped me with this case. You deserve flowers too. It’s been a…” Suddenly I saw Sören sitting at the far end of the first row. He sat with his hand on his chin. Stared at me with furrowed eyebrows. Was he trying to psych me out? “…um…a long journey and I’m going to need a little time off after this.”
I looked at the county chief constable, who nodded understandingly. I tried to think of something else to say but went blank. Empty.
“Thanks!”
Somehow I managed to make my way down from the podium and out of the hall. I went straight to the toilet and vomited.
NINETY-TWO
“What’s happening? They’ve been in there for I don’t know how long now.”
I could not understand what was taking so much time. It had been an hour since Benji’s operation should have been over. Why hadn’t someone come and told us how it had gone?
Just like many others I was not comfortable in a hospital. I’d never become used to the clinical smell, the sterile walls, and the white coats.
“Calm down. It won’t go any faster if we get ourselves stressed.”
Peter always relied on people doing what they should. I did not have that faith in others. Perhaps I should have checked up on the doctors just as Mother said. To make sure there were no complaints about them from other patients, or something similar.
“Please, sit down, Leona,” said Peter. “I’m getting stressed out with you wandering around.”
I sat down on the chair next to Peter. Heard the phone vibrate in my pocket.
“You’re not going to answer that now, are you?” said Peter.
“It’s just a message,” I said.
I turned the phone away so that Peter couldn’t see what was there. “Leona, please confirm that everything goes according to plan.” I quickly wrote, “I confirm.” Moved my thumb against the send button and was about to press it when the phone rang. I looked at Peter. He stared at me. Shook his head.
“Leona Lindberg,” I said with the phone to my ear.
There was a man on the other end. Not until he said his name the second time did I understand who he was. It was Martin Carlstedt, Claes’s attorney.
“I just wanted to tell you that we are going to appeal the verdict.”
“Yes?”
I hadn’t expected anything else. It would have been strange not to, considering that Claes had been
convicted of crimes he did not commit.
“Why are you calling me? I have nothing to do with that anymore.”
“I have something here that I think will interest you.”
Carlstedt’s voice disappeared and a raspy, scraping sound was heard on the phone. A recording. I recognized the two voices immediately. My own voice sounded so loud in the phone that I had to go farther down the corridor and lower the volume so that Peter wouldn’t hear. While I stood a short distance away and listened I saw a doctor in green clothing and face mask go up to Peter. He pulled down the mask and said something. I couldn’t hear what. On the phone I heard a conversation between myself and Nina.
“You killed Christer. It’s insane!”
“Quiet! Don’t you know that this is a police station?”
Then a lot of static. I was paralyzed. Peter stood with his back to me. I tried to hear what the doctor was saying at the same time as the crackly recording blared on the phone. It was impossible to hear the doctor. The recording continued.
“When this is over, when the money is divided, we’ll never talk about this again.”
I saw the doctor lean down toward Peter, who collapsed on his knees in the middle of the corridor. I stopped breathing. Dropped the phone, which thudded on the stone floor. Contrary to what I wanted to do, I slowly backed away in the other direction.
Away from Peter.
Away from the doctor.
Away from the phone.
Even though my phone was broken, I could still hear the crackling sound of my own voice in the receiver from the floor as I ran toward the exit.
Acknowledgments
First of all, thank you Micke—we made it!
Thank you to all of you who have helped me with thoughts, opinions, bouncing ideas, or proofreading: my publisher Christian Manfred, author Sören Bondeson, freelance writer Victoria Larsson, and police inspector Peter Wittboldt.
I also want to thank all of you who have shown interest in my writing and have listened and encouraged me during the writing process: Pia Törnstrand, Pia Niklasson, Niklas Mårtensson, Ulrika Westlin, Sissy Hedberg Hidalgo, and Stefan Strandberg.
Thank you to my family for being there and for your support.
Finally a big thank you to my Swedish publishing house Bonnier/Wahlström & Widstrand, my American publishing house Other Press, my literary agents Jonas Axelsson and Agnes Cavallin, and to my film agent Judith Toth.
Jenny Rogneby was born in Ethiopia, but was given away for adoption when she was one year old. She grew up in northern Sweden, studied criminology at Stockholm University, and became an investigator in the Stockholm City Police Department. Her work inspired her to create the character of Leona and write this best-selling crime novel, the first in the Leona series. Before her career in law enforcement, Rogneby was a singer and member of the pop group Cosmo4.
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