‘That makes it worse,’ said Paula. ‘To be shot at home by somebody you know.’
‘It doesn’t necessarily have to be a friend or acquaintance. There’s been a lot in the papers lately about people who ring the bell and ask to use the phone and then steal everything in the place.’ Gösta stuck his fork in the last bite of fish gratin.
‘Yes, but they usually target elderly people. Not someone who’s young and strong like Mats Sverin.’
‘True, but that doesn’t mean we should rule it out.’
‘We’ll have to wait and see what Martin and Patrik come up with.’ Paula put down her knife and fork and got to her feet. ‘Want some coffee?’
‘Yes, please,’ said Gösta. He slipped another biscuit to Ernst and was rewarded by a wet tongue licking his hand.
‘Oh, I needed this,’ Erling groaned loudly as he lay on the narrow massage table.
Vivianne’s fingers expertly kneaded the muscles in his back, and he felt the tension gradually disappearing. It wasn’t easy to handle all the responsibilities that went with his job.
‘Is this the type of service that we’re going to be offering?’ he asked, his face resting in the hole of the table.
‘This is a traditional massage, so it will definitely be one of the services. In addition we have Thai massage, and a treatment with hot stones. Clients can also choose between a partial and a total body rub.’ Vivianne continued working on his back as she spoke in a calm, almost hypnotic voice.
‘Excellent. That’s excellent.’
‘Later we’ll offer other treatments besides the basic spa package. Salt and seaweed scrubs, light therapy, algae facials, and so on. We’re going to have a full line of services. But you already know that because it was in the prospectus.’
‘Yes, but it’s still music to my ears. What about the staff? Is everyone on board?’ He could feel himself getting drowsy from the massage, the muted lighting, and Vivianne’s soothing voice.
‘The staff will soon be fully trained. I’ve taken charge of that part myself. We’ve brought in some fantastic people – young, enthusiastic, and ambitious.’
‘Excellent. That’s excellent,’ Erling repeated and then uttered a deep, contented sigh. ‘It’s going to be a massive success. I can feel it.’ He grimaced as Vivianne pressed a tender spot on his back.
‘You have some real knots right here,’ she told him, as she continued to rub the spot.
‘That really hurts,’ he said, suddenly wide awake.
‘It takes pain to get rid of pain.’ Vivianne pressed even harder, and Erling couldn’t hold back a whimper.
‘Why are you so tense?’ she asked.
‘It must be because of what happened to Mats,’ said Erling, his voice sounding strained. His back hurt so much that he felt tears welling up in his eyes. ‘The police came to the office this morning asking questions. The whole business is absolutely ghastly.’
Vivianne abruptly stopped rubbing. ‘What sort of questions?’
Grateful that the pain had stopped, at least temporarily, Erling drew in a long breath.
‘Mostly stuff about Mats and what he was like at work. What we knew about him, and whether he was good at his job.’
‘What did you tell them?’ Vivianne was again massaging his back. Thankfully she had moved on to a different spot.
‘Well, there wasn’t much to say. Mats was so reserved, we never really got to know him. But this afternoon I went through the accounts, and I have to say that he was certainly meticulous. That’s going to make it easier for me to take control of the finances until we can find a replacement.’
‘I’m sure you’ll do a great job.’ Vivianne was now massaging the back of his neck in a way that gave him goose pimples. ‘So he didn’t leave behind any question marks?’
‘No, from what I could see, everything was in perfect order.’ Erling felt himself dozing off again as Vivianne’s fingers continued their work.
Dan was sitting at the kitchen table and staring out of the window. The house was quiet. The children were in school or at the day-care centre. By now he’d usually be at work, but it was his day off. He’d have preferred to be working. Lately his stomach started to hurt the minute he was on his way home, because the whole house reminded him of what they had lost. Not just their baby, but also the life that they’d shared together. In his heart, he had begun to think that it might be gone for ever, and he didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t like him to feel as utterly helpless as he did right now, and he hated the feeling.
His heart ached for Emma and Adrian. They couldn’t understand why their mother refused to get out of bed, why she wouldn’t talk to them or kiss them or even look up when they brought the drawings they’d made to show her. They knew that Anna had been in a car accident and that their little brother had gone to heaven. But they couldn’t comprehend why that would make their mother lie so still, endlessly staring out of the window. And nothing that Dan did or said could make up for the emptiness they felt. They liked him, but they loved their mother.
With each passing day, Emma was becoming more withdrawn while Adrian got more aggressive. Both were reacting in their own way. Dan had talked with the teachers at the day-care centre about the fact that Adrian had begun hitting and biting the other children. And Emma’s teacher had phoned to discuss the changes in her; she’d gone from a lively, cheerful child to one who sat through classes without saying a word. What was Dan supposed to do? They needed Anna, not him.
At least he was able to comfort his own three daughters. They came to him with their questions and seeking hugs. They were sad and upset, but not in the same way as Emma and Adrian. Besides, his girls went to stay with their mother Pernilla every other week, and there they could escape the sorrow that hovered like a heavy blanket over his whole life.
Pernilla had been a great help. Their divorce had not been without its problems, but since the accident she had been amazing. It was largely due to her that Lisen, Belinda, and Malin were coping so well. Emma and Adrian had no one else. Naturally, Erica had tried to help, but she had her hands full taking care of the twins, and it wasn’t easy for her to make time for her niece and nephew. He realized that, and was grateful for the effort she made.
In the end, he and Emma and Adrian were left alone with their paralysing fear about what was going to happen to Anna. Sometimes he wondered if she would spend the rest of her life staring out of the window. The days would become weeks and then years as Anna simply lay there, slowly getting older. He knew that it was his own dark thoughts making him feel this way. The doctors had said that she would gradually come out of her depression, but that it had to run its course. The problem was that he didn’t believe them. Several months had now passed since the accident, and it seemed as if Anna was drifting further and further away.
Outside, a few titmice were pecking at the balls of suet that the girls had insisted on hanging up for the birds, despite the time of year. He watched them, enviously thinking how carefree their lives must be. Concerned only with the basic needs: eating, sleeping, and reproducing. No emotions, no complicated relationships. No sorrow.
Then he thought about Matte. Erica had phoned to tell him what had happened. Dan knew his parents well. Many times he and Gunnar had gone out in the boat, sitting there telling stories, and Gunnar had always talked of his son with such pride. Dan also knew who Matte was because they’d gone to the same school, although Mats had been in Erica’s class, not his. But they’d never really been friends. Gunnar and Signe must be suffering terribly. That thought cast his own grief in a new light. If it felt this bad to lose a son that he’d never had a chance to know, how much worse it must be for them to lose a son that they had followed through life and watched grow into a man.
The titmice suddenly took off. They didn’t fly off together but instead scattered in all directions. The next second Dan saw what had caused such an abrupt departure. The neighbour’s cat had sauntered into the yard and was now looking up at the tree.
This time the cat was out of luck.
Dan stood up. He couldn’t just sit here all day. He had to try talking to Anna again, urge her to rouse herself from the dead and rejoin the living. Slowly he headed upstairs.
‘How’d it go, Martin?’ asked Patrik as he leaned back in his chair. They had once again convened in the kitchen to discuss the investigation.
Martin shook his head. ‘I haven’t got much to report. I contacted most of the people that we missed yesterday, but none of them saw or heard a thing. Except maybe …’
‘What?’ said Patrik. Everyone’s attention was fixed on Martin.
‘I don’t know if this is any use. The old guy isn’t quite right in the head.’
‘Let’s hear it.’
‘Okay. There’s a man named Grip who lives on the same floor as Sverin. As I said, he seems a bit nuts.’ Martin tapped his temple. ‘And he’s got a load of smelly cats living in his flat …’ He took a deep breath. ‘Grip said that one of his cats saw a car early Saturday morning. About the same time that the other neighbour, Leandersson, was awakened by a sound that might have been a gunshot.’
Gösta sniggered. ‘His cat saw a car?’
‘Quiet, Gösta,’ said Patrik. ‘Okay, Martin, go on. What else did he say?’
‘That’s all. I didn’t really take him seriously, since he seemed so out of it.’
‘From the mouths of children and fools we will hear the truth spoken,’ murmured Annika as she continued taking notes.
Martin shrugged dejectedly. ‘That’s all I have to report.’
‘Good job,’ said Patrik, wanting to encourage him. ‘Door-to-door enquiries are never easy. People either exaggerate what they might have heard, or they’ve noticed nothing whatsoever.’
‘Yes, this job would definitely be a lot easier without witnesses,’ muttered Gösta.
‘What about you two?’ Patrik turned to Gösta and Paula, who were sitting next to each other at the kitchen table.
Paula shook her head. ‘We don’t have much to report either. Mats Sverin doesn’t seem to have had much of a life outside work, if we’re to believe his co-workers. At any rate, they couldn’t tell us much. He never mentioned any outside interests, or friends or girlfriends. Yet they describe him as pleasant and outgoing. It doesn’t really add up.’
‘Did he talk to them about his years in Göteborg?’
‘No, not a word.’ Gösta shook his head. ‘As Paula said, he apparently never discussed anything aside from his job and more general, ordinary subjects.’
‘Did they know about the assault?’ asked Patrik as he got up and began pouring coffee for everyone.
‘Not exactly,’ said Paula. ‘Mats told them that he’d had a bicycle accident and was in the hospital for a while. That’s hardly the truth of the matter.’
‘And his work – were there any problems on that front?’ Patrik set the coffee pot back on the counter.
‘He seems to have been very good at his job. They sounded extremely pleased with his performance. Apparently they felt it was quite a coup to hire an experienced economist from Göteborg. Besides, he had ties to the area.’ Gösta raised his cup and took a sip, burning his tongue. ‘Damn, that’s hot!’
‘So there aren’t any leads that we can follow up on?’
‘No, not from what we’ve found out so far,’ said Paula, now looking as dejected as Martin.
‘Well, I suppose that’s it for the time being. No doubt we’ll have occasion to talk to his work colleagues again. I had a talk with Mats’s parents, with pretty much the same results. He evidently wasn’t very open with them either. But I did find out that one of his old girlfriends is living on Gråskär out in the archipelago, and Gunnar thought that Mats had been planning to go and visit her. So I need to contact her.’ Patrik then placed the photographs from Sahlgrenska Hospital on the table. ‘And I got these from his parents.’
The pictures were passed around the table.
‘Jesus,’ said Mellberg. ‘He really took a beating.’
‘Yes. Judging by the photos, we’re talking about a case of aggravated assault. Of course it may not have anything to do with the murder, but I still think we should take a closer look at what happened. We need to request his hospital records and see what it says in the police report. We should also interview the staff at the organization that Mats worked for at the time. It’s interesting that the purpose of the group is to help women who are victims of domestic violence. Maybe we’ll find some sort of motive there. It would be best to go to Göteborg and talk to everyone in person.’
‘Is that really necessary?’ asked Mellberg. ‘There are no indications that he was shot because of what happened in Göteborg. It’s more likely connected to something local.’
‘Considering how little we’ve been able to find out so far, and how secretive Sverin seems to have been about his life, I think it’s certainly justified.’
Mellberg frowned as he pondered this. It took him a while to make up his mind.
‘Well, if you insist,’ he agreed eventually. ‘But I hope you get some results. Because it sounds as though you’ll be gone most of the day tomorrow.’
‘We’ll do our best,’ replied Patrik. ‘I was thinking of taking Paula with me.’
‘What should the rest of us do in the meantime?’ asked Martin.
‘You and Annika need to search the public records for references to Mats Sverin. Was he ever secretly married or divorced? Does he have any children? Does he own any property? Does he have a criminal record? Check for anything and everything.’
‘Okay, we can do that,’ said Annika, casting a glance at Martin.
‘And Gösta …’ Patrik paused. ‘Phone Torbjörn and find out when we can get into Sverin’s flat to take a look around. And try to put some pressure on him to speed things up with the technical report. With so little to go on, we need the results as soon as possible.’
‘Okay,’ said Gösta without much enthusiasm.
‘Bertil, you’ll still be here to hold down the fort, right?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Mellberg, sitting up straight. ‘I’m ready for the onslaught.’
‘Good. Then we’ll all start fresh tomorrow.’ Patrik stood up to signal that the meeting was over. He looked shattered.
Nathalie gave a start. Something had awakened her. She’d fallen asleep on the sofa and was dreaming about Matte. She could still sense the warmth of his body, the feeling of him inside of her. And she could hear his voice, which was so familiar, so reassuring. But apparently he hadn’t felt the same about her, and she could understand why. Matte had loved the Nathalie that she once was. The person she had become had disappointed him.
She was no longer shaking, and her joints had stopped hurting. Yet the restless feeling wouldn’t go away. It made her arms and legs prickle, prompting her to wander around the house as Sam watched her, his eyes wide.
If only she’d managed to explain why everything had gone so wrong. She’d told Matte some of it as they sat at the kitchen table. Confided in him the details that she could bring herself to say out loud. But she couldn’t bear to utter the words that would describe the worst humiliations. The things that she’d been forced to do and that had fundamentally changed her.
She knew that she was no longer the same person. And Matte had noticed. He had seen how ruined and rotten she was inside.
Nathalie sat up. She was having a hard time breathing. She drew her knees to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. It was so quiet, but suddenly she heard a thump against the floor. A ball. Sam’s ball. She watched the ball as it slowly rolled towards her. Sam hadn’t touched any of his toys since they’d come to the island. Had he climbed out of bed and started playing again? Her heart filled with hope until she realized that wasn’t possible. The door to Sam’s room was on her right, and the ball had come from the kitchen, on the left.
Slowly she got up and went into the kitchen. For a moment she was frightened by the shadows moving over the walls and
ceiling, but her fear vanished as quickly as it had come. A great sense of calm settled over her. There was no one here who wanted to harm her. She was certain of that, even though she couldn’t have explained why.
Hearing a giggle from a dark corner of the kitchen she glanced in that direction and caught a glimpse of him. A boy. But before she could take a closer look, he moved. He raced towards the front door, and without thinking she followed. She tore open the door and felt the blast of wind in her face, yet she knew that the boy wanted her to follow him.
He was sprinting for the lighthouse. Every once in a while he would look back, as if to make sure that she was behind him. His blond hair was ruffled by the wind, the same gusts that were so strong they nearly took her breath away as she ran.
She had trouble pulling open the heavy door to the lighthouse, but that was where he had gone, so she had to get inside. She dashed up the steep stairs, hearing the boy moving about overhead, hearing him giggling.
But when she reached the top of the lighthouse, she found the round room empty. Whoever the boy was, he had disappeared.
‘How are things at the station?’ Erica moved closer to Patrik as they sat on the sofa.
He’d come home in time for dinner, and now the children were asleep. With a yawn she stretched out her legs and rested them on the coffee table.
‘Tired?’ asked Patrik, without answering her question. He stroked her arm as he kept his eyes fixed on the TV.
‘Exhausted.’
‘Why don’t you go to bed, sweetheart?’ With a distracted expression, he gave her a kiss on the cheek.
‘I should, but I don’t want to.’ She glanced at her husband. ‘I need some grown-up time with you and the news stories on Rapport to counterbalance all the dirty nappies, vomit-covered shirts, and baby prattle.’
Patrik turned to face her. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘Of course,’ she told him. ‘It’s nothing like when Maja was born. But sometimes it can feel like too much of a good thing.’
The Lost Boy (Patrick Hedstrom and Erica Falck, Book 7) Page 10
