‘No, we’re going to visit Aunt Anna and Uncle Dan,’ she said, and was rewarded with a jubilant cry from her daughter.
‘Play with Lisen. And Emma. Not Adrian,’ Maja firmly announced.
‘Is that so? Why don’t you want to play with Adrian?’
‘Adrian is a boy.’
Clearly no further explanation was necessary, because that was the extent of the information Erica was able to get out of her daughter. She sighed. Should the division between boys and girls really occur so early? Determining what a child should or should not do, what a child wore and who she played with? She felt guilty, wondering whether she had contributed to this by giving in to her daughter’s demands that everything of hers should be pink and princess-like. Maja’s entire wardrobe was now filled with pink clothes, because that was the only colour she was willing to wear; otherwise she threw a fit. Was it wrong to allow her to make her own decisions?
Erica pushed those thoughts aside. She didn’t have the energy for that topic at the moment. Besides, it was taking all her strength to push the heavy pram. She paused for a moment at the roundabout before setting off again, heading left along Dinglevägen. She could see Dan’s and Anna’s house on Falkeliden, but it suddenly seemed much further away than usual. Finally she reached it, but the last bit up the hill had nearly done her in, and for a long time she simply stood at their front door, trying to catch her breath. Her pulse finally slowed enough so that she could ring the bell, and only a few seconds later the door was flung open.
‘Maja!’ shrieked Lisen. ‘And the babies!’ She turned around and shouted into the house:
‘Erica’s here. And Maja and the babies! They’re so adorable!’
Erica couldn’t help laughing at Lisen’s enthusiasm. She stepped aside to allow Maja to go in.
‘Is your pappa home?’
‘Pappa!’ yelled Lisen in answer to Erica’s question.
Dan came into the hall from the kitchen.
‘Oh, it’s great to see you,’ he said, holding out his arms to give Maja a hug. She was very fond of Dan.
‘Come in, come in.’ He put Maja down, and she quickly ran off to see what the other kids were doing. By the sound of things, they were watching a children’s programme on TV.
‘Sorry that I keep popping over like this,’ said Erica as she hung up her jacket. She lifted the carrycots out of the pram and followed Dan, who led the way into the kitchen.
‘We’re delighted to have some company,’ said Dan, rubbing his face. He looked terribly tired and dejected.
‘I’ve just made a fresh pot of coffee,’ he added, looking at Erica to see if she’d like some.
‘Since when do you even need to ask?’ she said with a wry smile. She put the twins down on a blanket that she’d taken out of the babies’ nappy bag.
Then she sat at the kitchen table, and Dan took a seat across from her after pouring two cups of coffee. Neither of them spoke for a while. They knew each other so well that silence never made them uncomfortable. Strangely enough, her sister’s husband had been Erica’s boyfriend once upon a time. But that was so long ago that they could hardly remember it. Their relationship had developed instead into a warm friendship, and Erica couldn’t have wished for a better husband for her sister.
‘I had an interesting conversation today,’ she said at last.
‘Really?’ said Dan, sipping his coffee. He was a man of few words, and he also knew that Erica didn’t need much encouragement in order to continue.
She told him how she’d bumped into Vivianne and what she’d said about Anna.
‘We’ve let Anna withdraw from everyone, when we should have done the opposite.’
‘I’m not so sure about that,’ said Dan, getting up to refill their cups. ‘It feels like whatever I do is the wrong thing.’
‘But I think she’s right. I’m certain of it. We can’t let Anna just lie in bed and quietly waste away. If necessary, we have to force her to pay attention to us.’
‘Maybe you’ve got a point,’ he said, although he sounded doubtful.
‘It’s at least worth a try,’ Erica insisted. She bent down to check on the twins. They were lying on the blanket on the floor, waving their little hands and feet in the air. They looked so content that she leaned back in her chair again.
‘Anything is worth a try, but …’ Dan fell silent, as if he didn’t dare say out loud what he was thinking, for fear that it might become true. ‘But what if nothing helps? What if she’s given up?’
‘Anna doesn’t give up,’ said Erica. ‘She’s at a low ebb now, but she won’t give up. You have to believe that. You have to believe in Anna.’
She stared at Dan, forcing him to meet her gaze. Anna wouldn’t give up, but she needed help taking those first steps. And they were going to give her that help.
‘Could you watch the boys? I’m going to sit with her for a while.’
‘Sure, I’ll take care of the little tykes.’ Dan smiled wanly. He stood up and then sat down on the floor next to Anton and Noel.
Erica was already on her way out of the kitchen. She went upstairs and quietly opened the door to the bedroom. Anna was lying in exactly the same position as before. On her side, with her face turned towards the window. Erica didn’t say a word, just lay down on the bed and pressed her body against Anna’s. She put her arm around her and pulled her close, feeling her own warmth enveloping her sister.
‘I’m here, Anna,’ she whispered. ‘You’re not alone. I’m here.’
The food that Gunnar had brought was starting to run out, but she hesitated to phone Matte’s parents again. She didn’t want to think about him, about how disappointed he must have felt.
Nathalie blinked away the tears and decided to wait to ring them until the following day. They had enough to make do, she and Sam. He didn’t eat much. She was still feeding him like a baby, forcing him to take each bite, only to see most of it spill out of his mouth again.
She shivered, wrapping her arms around her body. Even though it wasn’t particularly cold outside, it felt as if the wind blowing across the island came straight through the walls of the house, through her thick clothing, through her skin and into her bones. She put on yet another sweater, a heavy one that her father had always worn whenever he went out fishing, but it made no difference. It was as if the chill were coming from inside of her.
Her parents wouldn’t have liked Fredrik. She had known that from the moment she met him, yet she had pushed the thought away. They had died and left her on her own, so why should they have the right to influence her life? That was how she had felt for a long time: that they had abandoned her.
Her father died first. One day he suffered a heart attack and collapsed at home, never to get up again. Death was instantaneous, the doctor had said, trying to console them. Three weeks later her mother had received her death sentence. Liver cancer. She lingered for another six months before she passed away in her sleep, for the first time in months with a peaceful, almost happy expression on her face. Nathalie sat beside her when she died, holding her hand and trying to feel what she ought to feel: grief and loss. Instead she was filled with anger. How could they leave her all alone? She needed them. With them she had felt safe; she had always been able to return to their embrace after doing something stupid, something that made them shake their heads and say gently: ‘But Nathalie, what were you thinking?’ Who was going to keep an eye on her now? Who was going to rein in her wild side?
She sat at her mother’s deathbed, and in a single moment she became an orphan. Only she was nothing like the orphan in Annie, a favourite film from her childhood. While that little girl had been adopted by a kindly millionaire, Nathalie was left to her own devices, with no one to stop her making impulsive and stupid decisions, or pushing the boundaries, even when she knew she shouldn’t. And so Nathalie took up with Fredrik – something which would have prompted her parents to have a serious talk with her. They would have tried to persuade her to drop him, to turn away f
rom the life that would lead straight into the abyss. But they weren’t there. They had abandoned her, and deep in her heart she was furious about that.
She sat down on the sofa and drew her knees to her body, wrapping her arms around her legs. Matte had been able to soothe her anger. For a few hours, on one brief evening and night, she had not felt alone for the first time since her parents died. And now he was gone. She leaned her forehead on her knees and wept. She was still the little, abandoned Nathalie.
‘Is Erling in?’
‘He’s in his office. Go ahead and knock.’ Gunilla half-rose from her chair to point in the direction of Erling’s closed door.
‘Thanks.’ Gösta nodded and headed down the corridor. He was mortified at having to return on this errand. It wouldn’t have been necessary if he’d only thought to ask about Mats’s computer when he was here with Paula. But it hadn’t occurred to either of them on their last visit.
‘Come in!’ Erling said at once when he heard the knock. Gösta opened the door and went in.
‘If the police keep dropping in like this, we can stop worrying about security at the office.’ Erling put on his best politician’s smile and enthusiastically shook Gösta’s hand.
‘Er, yes, well, there’s one thing that I need to follow up on,’ muttered Gösta as he sat down.
‘Ask away. We’ll do whatever we can to help the police.’
‘It has to do with Mats Sverin’s computer. We’ve just done a search of his flat, and he seems to have had a laptop computer. Is it here at the office?’
‘Mats’s computer? I’ve no idea. Let me go and see.’
Erling stood up and went out into the hall, turning immediately to enter the neighbouring office. He came back almost at once.
‘No, it’s not here. Was it stolen?’ He looked nervous as he again took his place behind the desk.
‘We don’t know. But we’d like to get hold of it.’
‘Have you found Mats’s briefcase?’ asked Erling. ‘It’s brown leather. He always had it with him whenever he went to and from work, and I know that he often put his laptop inside.’
‘No, we haven’t found a brown briefcase.’
‘That’s not good. If the computer and briefcase have been stolen, sensitive information might fall into the wrong hands.’
‘What sort of information?’
‘I just mean that of course we wouldn’t want information about civic finances and the like to be spread willy-nilly without some sort of control being imposed. It’s public information, so there’s nothing secret about it, but we still want to know how and where the information is made available. And with the Internet, you never know where things end up.’
‘That’s true,’ said Gösta.
He couldn’t help feeling disappointed that the laptop wasn’t here in the office. What could have happened to it? Was Erling right to fear that it had been stolen? Or could Mats have stowed it somewhere other than in his flat?
‘Well, thanks for your help, anyway,’ said Gösta, getting to his feet. ‘I’m sure we’ll be in touch again. And if the laptop or briefcase should turn up, could you please phone us at once?’
‘Of course,’ said Erling, following Gösta out into the corridor. ‘Would you mind doing the same? It’s very worrisome to think that council property has disappeared like this. Especially now. Project Badis is the biggest venture we’ve ever embarked on.’ Erling stopped abruptly. ‘Wait a minute. When Mats left the office on Friday, he mentioned that there were some discrepancies that concerned him. He was going to take up the issue with Anders Berkelin, who is responsible for the Badis finances. You could ask him if he knows anything about the missing laptop. It may be a long shot, but as I said, we’d like to get it back most urgently.’
‘We’ll have a talk with him, and we’ll let you know as soon as we find the computer.’
Gösta sighed to himself as he left the council building. It looked as if there was going to be a lot of work to do on this case – too much work. And the golf season was already well under way.
The Refuge premises were discreetly located in an office park in Hisingen. Patrik missed the entrance at first but finally managed to find it after driving past a few times.
‘Do they know we’re coming?’ asked Paula as she got out of the car.
‘No. I decided not to give them any advance warning.’
‘What do you know about this organization?’ She nodded at the name printed on the sign in the entryway.
‘They help battered women, providing shelter when they need to escape. Hence the name of the group: the Refuge. They also offer support while the woman remains in the relationship, helping her and any children to leave the abusive situation. Annika said she couldn’t find out much more than that. They seem to operate with maximum discretion.’
‘Perfectly understandable,’ said Paula, pressing the button next to the name on the plaque. ‘Even though this wasn’t exactly an easy place to find, I assume that they don’t receive the women here.’
‘No. They probably have space somewhere else.’
‘Hello? The Refuge.’ A voice crackled over the intercom, and Paula gave Patrik an enquiring look. He cleared his throat.
‘My name is Patrik Hedström. My colleague and I are from the Tanum police. We’d like to come in and ask you a few questions.’ He paused. ‘It’s about Mats Sverin.’
Silence. Then they heard a buzzing sound and they were able to push open the door. The office was on the second floor, so they took the stairs. Patrik noted that the door to the Refuge offices was different from the other doors in the building. It was more solid, made of steel with a seven-lever deadbolt. They rang another bell, which prompted crackling over another intercom.
‘It’s Patrik Hedström.’
After a few seconds the door was unlocked.
‘Sorry. We always handle visitors with the greatest caution.’ A woman in her forties wearing worn jeans and a white sweater stood in the doorway. She held out her hand. ‘Leila Sundgren. I’m the director of the Refuge.’
‘Patrik Hedström. And this is my colleague Paula Morales.’
They greeted each other politely.
‘Come in. We can sit in my office. You said this was about Matte?’ There was a slight nervousness in her voice.
‘Let’s wait until we get to your office,’ said Patrik.
Leila nodded and led the way to a small but bright room. The walls were covered with children’s drawings, and the desk was neat and tidy. Not at all like Patrik’s. He and Paula sat down.
‘How many women do you help each year?’ asked Paula.
‘About thirty come to live with us. There’s a tremendous need. Sometimes it feels as if it’s just a drop in the sea, but unfortunately it’s a matter of limited resources.’
‘How is the organization financed?’ Paula was genuinely interested, so Patrik leaned back and let her ask the questions.
‘We get money from two sources: social services contributions and individual donations. But as I mentioned, money is in short supply, and we always wish we could do more.’
‘How many employees do you have?’
‘We have three paid staff members, plus an ever-changing number of volunteers. The salaries aren’t substantial; I want to emphasize that. All of us who work here have taken pay cuts, in comparison with our previous jobs. We’re not in it for the money.’
‘Mats Sverin – was he one of the paid employees?’ Patrik interjected.
‘Yes. He was hired as the financial officer. He worked here for four years and did a fantastic job. In his case, the salary was laughable if you consider what he’d been earning before. He was a truly dedicated staff member. And it didn’t take much to persuade him to participate in this experiment.’
‘Experiment?’ said Patrik.
Leila paused, looking as if she needed a moment to formulate what she wanted to say.
‘The Refuge is unique,’ she said at last. ‘Normally there are no men in
women’s crisis organizations. I’d go so far as to say that it’s completely taboo for a man to work for this type of group. But when Mats worked here, we had an equal number of men and women on staff – two women and two men – and that was exactly what I had in mind when I started the Refuge. It hasn’t always been easy though.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Paula. This was all new to her; she’d never had any real contact with crisis services for women.
‘It’s an extremely controversial issue, and each side of the argument has its staunch supporters. The ones who insist that men should be kept out are of the opinion that women need a male-free zone after everything they’ve endured. Others, like myself, think that’s the wrong way to go. I believe that men have a role to play in women’s groups. There are men in the world, after all, and keeping them out creates a false sense of security. Moreover there’s tremendous value in showing that there are other kinds of men than the ones these women have had to deal with all their lives. It’s important to show that good men do exist. That’s why I’ve gone against the flow and chosen to be the first women’s crisis group to have both male and female employees.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Of course this means that the men we take on must undergo a thorough background check. We need to have total confidence in them.’
‘And you had confidence in Mats?’ asked Patrik.
‘He was the good friend of my nephew. For a couple of years they spent a lot of time together, so I met Matte on many occasions. He told me he was dissatisfied with his job and that he was looking for something more. And when he heard about the work of the Refuge, he got all fired up and succeeded in convincing me that he was the right person for the job. He really wanted to help people, and he had that opportunity here.’
‘Why did he quit?’ Patrik asked, looking at Leila. He registered a flicker in her eyes, but the next second it was gone.
‘He wanted to move on. And after he was assaulted, he started thinking about returning home. That’s not uncommon. He was badly injured. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Yes. We talked to the doctor at Sahlgrenska Hospital,’ said Patrik.
The Lost Boy (Patrick Hedstrom and Erica Falck, Book 7) Page 15
