‘What are you? The biscuit police?’ replied Gösta, making a show of taking yet another biscuit. Paula merely snorted and picked up the packet of biscuits to put it on the counter, out of Gösta’s reach.
‘Unfortunately, he didn’t find out much,’ said Martin. ‘Wilhelm Fridén died just a couple of weeks ago, and neither his widow nor his son knew anything about the payments. Of course, it’s hard to say whether they were telling the truth, but Patrik seemed to think they were. At any rate, the son has promised to ask their lawyer to send over all of his father’s papers, and if we’re lucky we’ll find something there.’
‘What about Erik’s brother? Did he know anything about the payments?’ Gösta glanced greedily at the biscuits on the counter and seemed to be considering actually getting up off his rear to fetch it.
‘We phoned Axel to ask him about the payments,’ said Paula, with a warning look to Gösta. ‘But he said he had no idea what it was all about.’
‘And do we believe him?’ Gösta was measuring the distance from his chair to the counter. A quick lunge, and he might be able to do it.
‘I don’t really know. He’s hard to read. What do you think, Paula?’ said Martin, turning to her.
While she thought about the question, Gösta seized his chance. He jumped up and launched himself towards the packet, but Paula’s left hand shot out at lightning speed and snatched it away.
‘Uh-uh, no way . . .’ She gave Gösta a mischievous wink, and he couldn’t help smiling back. He was starting to appreciate their banter.
The packet of biscuits safely in her lap, Paula turned to Martin. ‘No, I agree. I can’t really make him out. So, no, I’m not sure.’
‘Let’s go back to Britta,’ said Martin, printing BRITTA in big letters on his notepad, and then underscoring the name.
‘What I judge to be our best evidence is the discovery of what is most likely the murderer’s DNA under her fingernails. And the fact that she evidently managed to leave deep scratches on the face or arms of the person who was suffocating her. We were able to interview Herman briefly this morning, and he had no scratch marks. He also said that Britta was already dead when he came home. That she was lying in bed with a pillow over her face.’
‘But he still claims that her death was his fault,’ Paula interjected.
‘So what does he mean by that?’ Gösta frowned. ‘Is he protecting somebody?’
‘Yes, that’s what we think too.’ Paula relented and put the packet of biscuits back on the table, sliding it towards Gösta. ‘Here, knock yourself out,’ she said in English.
‘What?’ said Gösta, whose knowledge of that language was limited to golf-related terms, although even in those instances his pronunciation left a lot to be desired.
‘Never mind. Go ahead and lick off the chocolate,’ said Paula.
‘And then we have the thumbprint,’ said Martin, listening with amusement to Gösta and Paula’s friendly squabbling. If he didn’t know better, he’d have said his old colleague was actually enjoying being at work.
‘A single thumbprint on one button – not much to write home about,’ said Gösta gloomily.
‘No, not by itself, but if that thumbprint comes from the same person who left his DNA under Britta’s fingernails, then I think there’s cause for optimism.’ Martin underscored the letters ‘DNA’ on his notepad.
‘When will the DNA profile be ready?’ asked Paula.
‘The lab is estimating we’ll have it by Thursday,’ replied Martin.
‘Okay, then we’ll run a DNA sampling afterwards.’ Paula stretched out her legs. Sometimes she wondered whether Johanna’s pregnancy symptoms were contagious. So far she had shooting pains in her legs, strange little twinges, and a ravenous appetite.
‘So do we have any candidates for DNA sampling?’ Gösta was well into his third biscuit.
‘I was thinking of Axel and Frans,’ said Paula.
‘Are we really going to wait till Thursday? It’ll take a while to get the results, and scratches heal pretty fast, so we might as well take the samples as soon as possible,’ said Gösta.
‘Good thinking, Gösta,’ said Martin, surprised. ‘We’ll do it tomorrow. Anything else? Anything we’ve forgotten or left out?’
‘What do you mean, “left out”?’ said a voice from the doorway. Mellberg came in with a panting Ernst in tow. The dog immediately smelled Gösta’s stack of biscuit remains and lunged forward to sit at his feet. His begging had the desired result, and the biscuits were disposed of in a flash.
‘We’re just going over a few things, making sure we haven’t overlooked anything,’ explained Martin, pointing at the documents lying on the table in front of them. ‘We were just saying that we need to take samples from Axel and Frans tomorrow.’
‘Oh right, do that,’ said Mellberg impatiently, afraid that he might get drawn into the actual work that needed to be done. ‘Just carry on with what you were doing. It looks good.’ He called Ernst who, tail wagging, followed him back to his office where he lay down in his usual place at his master’s feet under the desk.
‘I see that the idea of finding someone to adopt that dog has been put on ice,’ said Paula, amused.
‘I think we can consider Ernst ‘taken’. Although damned if I know who’s actually taking care of whom. There are also rumours that Mellberg has turned into quite the salsa king in his old age.’ Gösta chuckled.
Martin lowered his voice and whispered: ‘I’ve heard that too . . . And this morning when I went into his office, he was on the floor doing stretches.’
‘You’ve got to be kidding!’ said Gösta, wide-eyed. ‘How was it going?’
‘It wasn’t.’ Martin laughed. ‘He was trying to touch his toes, but his stomach got in the way. Just to name one reason.’
‘All right, you two. It’s actually my mother who teaches the salsa class that Mellberg is taking,’ Paula admonished them. Gösta and Martin stared at her in astonishment.
‘Mamma invited him over for lunch a few days ago, and he was . . . really quite pleasant,’ she told them.
Now Martin and Gösta were openly gawping at her.
‘Mellberg is taking salsa classes from your mother? And he’s been over to your place for lunch? Pretty soon you’ll be calling him “Pappa”!’ Martin laughed loudly, and Gösta joined in.
‘Cut it out, you guys,’ said Paula crossly as she stood up. ‘We’re done here, right?’ She strode out of the room. Martin and Gösta exchanged disconcerted glances, but then couldn’t help howling with laughter again. It was too good to be true.
The weekend had brought full-fledged warfare. Dan and Belinda had shouted non-stop at each other, until Anna thought her head was going to explode from all the ruckus. She had admonished them several times, asking them to show some consideration for Adrian and Emma, and luckily that argument seemed to have an effect on both of them. Even though Belinda would never openly admit it, Anna could tell that she liked her kids, and because of that Anna was willing to overlook some of her defiant teenage behaviour. She also thought that Dan didn’t really understand what things were like for his eldest daughter, or why she reacted the way she did. It was as if the two of them had arrived at a stalemate, and neither knew what to do about it. Anna sighed as she walked about the living room, picking up toys which the kids seemed to have spread over every inch of the floor.
Over the past few days she had also been trying to come to terms with the discovery that she and Dan were going to have a child together. Her mind was still in a whirl, but she had managed to suppress the worst of her fears. She had also started feeling just as sick as she’d felt during her first two pregnancies. She didn’t throw up very often, but she did go around with a queasy, seesawing feeling in her stomach, as if she were constantly seasick. Dan had noticed that she’d lost her usual appetite, and like a worried mother hen, he kept trying to tempt her with all sorts of food.
She sat down on the sofa and put her head between her knees, focusing on her
breathing in an effort to bring the nausea under control. The last time, when she was pregnant with Adrian, it had lasted until her sixth month, which had seemed like for ever. Upstairs she could hear agitated voices rising and falling to the accompaniment of Belinda’s pounding music. She couldn’t cope with all this. She just couldn’t cope. The nausea was getting worse, and her gag reflex made sour bile rise to her mouth. She leapt up and ran for the bathroom, knelt down in front of the toilet, and tried to spit out what was surging up and down her throat. But nothing came out.
After several minutes of dry heaves, which brought her no relief, she gave up and got to her feet to wipe her mouth on a towel. As she did, she caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror. What she saw alarmed her. She was as pale as the white towel she was holding, and her eyes were big and scared. Just the way she’d looked when she was with Lucas. And yet everything was so different now. So much better. She ran her hand over her stomach, which was still flat. So much hope. And so much fear. All gathered in one little spot inside her womb. So dependent, so tiny.
Of course she’d thought about having a baby with Dan. But not now, not yet. Sometime in the far distant future. After things had calmed down, stabilized. Still, now that it had happened, it hadn’t crossed her mind even for one moment to terminate the pregnancy. The connection was already there. The invisible, fragile, and yet strong connection between her and what was not yet visible to the naked eye. She took a deep breath and exited the bathroom. By now the loud voices had moved downstairs to the hallway.
‘I’m going over to Linda’s. Why is that so fucking difficult to understand! I have my friends, you know. Or are you going to forbid me to see my friends too?’
Anna could sense that Dan was about to launch into a scathing reply, and in that moment her patience ran out. Steaming with fury, she strode out to the hall and bellowed: ‘It’s time for the two of you to SHUT UP! Do you understand? You’re both acting like children, and it’s going to STOP! RIGHT NOW!’ She held up her finger and went on before either of them could interrupt. ‘You, Dan, need to bloody well stop yelling at Belinda. You know you can’t just lock her up and throw away the key! She’s seventeen years old, and she needs to see her friends!’
Belinda’s face lit up with a delighted smile, but Anna wasn’t finished.
‘And you, young lady, need to stop behaving like a brat and start acting like a grown-up, if you want to be treated like one! I don’t want to hear any more rubbish about me and the kids living here, because we’re staying whether you like it or not, and we’d be happy to get to know you if you’d just give us a chance!’
Anna paused to catch her breath and then continued in a tone that made Dan and Belinda stand up straight like tin soldiers, out of sheer fright. ‘And just so you know, we’re not going anywhere, if that’s your plan, because your father and I are having a baby, so my children and you and your sisters are going to be connected by a half-brother or -sister. And I’d really like all of us to be friends, but I can’t do it alone. We need to help each other! In any case, the baby will be here in the spring, whether you choose to accept me or not, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to put up with all this crap until then!’ Anna burst into tears, as the other two stood frozen in place. Then Belinda started sobbing. She stared at Dan and Anna for a moment before she dashed out the front door, which closed behind her with a bang.
‘Anna, darling, was that really necessary?’ said Dan wearily. Emma and Adrian had also witnessed the confrontation and were standing in the hall, staring at them in bewilderment.
‘Oh, go to hell,’ said Anna, grabbing her jacket. For a second time the front door closed with a bang.
‘Hi, where have you been?’ Patrik met Erica at the door, giving her a kiss on the lips. Maja wanted a kiss from her too and came toddling over, holding out her arms.
‘I’ve had two very interesting conversations, I can tell you that much,’ said Erica, hanging up her jacket and going with Patrik into the living room.
‘Oh, really? About what?’ he asked. He sat down on the floor and went on with what he and Maja had been doing when they heard Erica come in. They were building the world’s tallest tower out of blocks.
‘I thought Maja was supposed to be the one learning to use building blocks,’ laughed Erica, sitting down next to them. She watched with amusement as her husband, with great concentration, attempted to place a red block on top of the tower that was now taller than Maja.
‘Shh . . .,’ said Patrik, sticking out his tongue as he steadied his hand to put the block on top of the rather rickety construction.
‘Maja, can you give Mamma the yellow block?’ Erica whispered to her daughter, pointing at a block at the very bottom. Maja’s face lit up at the thought of doing her mother a favour. She leaned down and swiftly pulled out the block, causing Patrik’s carefully stacked structure to collapse.
Patrik sat there, holding the red block in the air. ‘Thanks a lot,’ he sulked, glaring at Erica. ‘Do you have any idea what skill it takes to build a tower that tall? What a steady hand it requires?’
‘I see somebody is finally starting to understand what I’ve been saying for the past year about feeling understimulated,’ laughed Erica as she leaned forward to kiss her husband.
‘Hmmm, well, yes. I get it,’ he said, kissing her back with a flick of his tongue. Erica returned the invitation, and what had started out as a kiss developed into some light groping, which didn’t stop until Maja, with perfect aim, threw a block at her father’s head.
‘Ow!’ He put his hand to his head, and then raised his finger to warn Maja. ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing? Throwing blocks at Pappa just when he has a chance to do a little groping with Mamma?’
‘Patrik!’ Erica slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Is it really necessary to teach our daughter the word “grope” at her age?’
‘If she wants a little brother or sister, she’ll just have to put up with the sight of her mother and father groping,’ he said, and Erica saw that he had that gleam in his eye.
She stood up. ‘I think we’ll wait for a while with the little brother or sister. But I guess we could get in some practice tonight . . .’ She winked and went out to the kitchen. They had finally managed to resume that part of their life together. It was unbelievable what a negative effect the arrival of a baby could have on a couple’s sex life, but after a rather lean year in that respect, things had begun to improve. Although after spending a whole year at home, she couldn’t yet imagine doing anything about a sibling for Maja. She felt as if she needed to settle into being a grownup again before she could contemplate a return to the world of babies.
‘So what were these interesting conversations you had today?’ asked Patrik, following her out to the kitchen.
Erica told him about her two excursions to Uddevalla and what she’d found out.
‘But you don’t recognize those names?’ asked Patrik, frowning after she told him what Herman had said.
‘Well, that’s the strange thing. I can’t remember ever hearing them before, and yet there’s something . . . I don’t know. Paul Heckel and Friedrich Hück. Somehow they sound familiar.’
‘So you and Kjell Ringholm are going to join forces to track down this . . . Hans Olavsen?’ Patrik looked sceptical, and Erica could tell what he was getting at.
‘Okay, I know it’s a long shot. I have no idea what role Hans might have played, but something tells me it’s important. And even if this has nothing to do with the murders, he seems to have meant something to my mother, and that was how I got started on all this in the first place. I wanted to find out more about her.’
‘Well, just be careful.’ Patrik put a saucepan of water on the stove. ‘Would you like some tea, by the way?’
‘Yes please.’ Erica sat down at the kitchen table. ‘What do you mean “be careful”?’
‘According to what I’ve heard, Kjell is a very slick journalist, so just watch out that he doesn’t exploit you.’
‘I don’t see how he could. The worst that could happen is that he might take the information I dig up and not give me any in return. And I’m willing to take that risk. But I actually don’t think he’d do something like that. We agreed that I would talk to Axel Frankel about the Norwegian and also check whether he’s listed in any official Swedish records. And Kjell is going to talk to his father. Although he wasn’t exactly thrilled about the prospect.’
‘No, those two don’t seem to get along very well,’ said Patrik, pouring boiling water into two cups, each supplied with a teabag. ‘I’ve read a number of articles that Kjell wrote where he really let his father have it.’
‘Sounds like it’ll be an interesting conversation, then,’ said Erica, taking the cup that Patrik handed her. She looked at him as she sipped the hot tea. They could hear Maja prattling with some imaginary playmate out in the living room. She was probably talking to the doll, which she’d refused to let out of her sight the past few days.
‘How does it feel not to be part of the work they’re doing at the station right now?’ she asked.
‘I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t difficult. But I realize what an opportunity this is to stay home with Maja, and my job will still be there when I go back. That’s not to say that I hope there will be more murder investigations, but, well . . . you know what I mean.’
‘And how is Karin doing?’ asked Erica, trying to keep her tone of voice as neutral as possible.
Patrik paused a second before answering. Then he said, ‘I don’t know. She seems so . . . sad. I don’t think things have turned out the way she imagined, and now she’s stuck in a situation that . . . no, I don’t really know. I feel a little sorry for her.’
‘Does she regret leaving you?’ asked Erica, and then waited tensely for his reply. They hadn’t ever talked about his marriage to Karin, and the few times that she had asked about it, he had given her curt, one-word answers.
‘No, I don’t think so. Or rather . . . I don’t know. I think she regrets doing what she did, and that I caught them in the act the way I did.’ He gave a bitter laugh as he pictured the scene he’d put out of his mind for so long. ‘But I don’t know . . . I realize now that she did what she did largely because the two of us just weren’t getting along.’
The Hidden Child Page 36
