‘So now you’re trying to fool me into thinking that the guy is just a friend,’ he snapped. ‘What’s his name?’
‘That’s none of your –’
Lucas cut her off. ‘What’s his name, Anna?’
The resistance inside her was breaking down more with each second she heard his voice on the phone. Quietly she replied, ‘Gustav af Klint.’
‘Oh, right. How posh can you get?’ His voice switched from scornful to low and threatening. ‘How dare you take my children on holiday with another man.’
‘We’re divorced, Lucas,’ Anna said. She put her hand over her eyes.
‘You know as well as I do, that doesn’t change a thing, Anna. You’re the mother of my children, and that means you and I will always belong together. You are mine and the children are mine.’
‘So why are you trying to take them away from me?’
‘Because you’re unstable, Anna. You’ve always suffered from weak nerves, and to be honest, I don’t trust you to take care of my children in the manner they deserve. Just look at how you live. You work all day and they’re at day care. Do you think that’s a good life for the children, Anna?’
‘But I have to work, Lucas. And how were you planning to solve the problem if you took care of the children? You have to work too. Who would take care of them then?’
‘There is a solution, Anna, and you know what it is.’
‘Are you mad? Do you think I’d go back to you after you broke Emma’s arm? Not to mention everything you did to me?’ Her voice rose to a falsetto. Instinctively, she knew at once that she had gone too far.
‘It wasn’t my fault! It was an accident! Besides, if you hadn’t been so stubborn and kept fighting me, I wouldn’t have needed to lose my temper so often!’
It was like talking to thin air. There was no use. After all her years with Lucas, she knew that he believed what he said. It was never his fault. Everything that happened was someone else’s fault. Every time he hit her he had made her feel guilty because she couldn’t be understanding enough, loving enough, submissive enough.
Drawing on previously hidden reserves of strength, she had finally managed to divorce him. That had made her feel strong, invincible, for the first time in years. Finally she would be able to regain control of her own life. She and the children would be able to start over from scratch. But everything had gone a little too smoothly. Lucas had actually been shocked that he had broken his daughter’s arm in a fit of rage, and he had been uncharacteristically amenable. His busy bachelor life after the divorce had also meant that he had let Anna and the children live in peace, while he was making one conquest after another. But just when Anna had felt that she had managed to escape, Lucas had begun to tire of his new life, and once again he turned his gaze to his family. When he had no luck with flowers, gifts and entreaties for forgiveness, the silk gloves had come off. He demanded sole custody of the children. To support his claims he had a multitude of baseless accusations concerning Anna’s unsuitability as a mother. None of it was true, but Lucas could be so convincing when he turned on the charm that she still trembled at the possibility that he might succeed in his attempt. She also knew that it really wasn’t the children he wanted. His business life would not function if he had custody of two small children, but his hope was to frighten Anna enough to make her come back. In weaker moments she was prepared to do just that. At the same time she knew that it was impossible. It would destroy her. So she steeled herself.
‘Lucas, it does no good to have this discussion. I’ve moved on since the divorce, and you should too. It’s true that I’ve met a new man, and that’s something thatyou’ll just have to learn to accept. The children are doing fine and I’m doing fine. Can’t we try to deal with this like adults?’
Her tone was entreating, but the silence on the other end was impenetrable. She knew that she’d crossed the line. When she heard the dial tone and realized that Lucas had simply hung up, she knew that he was going to make her pay in some way. And dearly.
4
SUMMER 1979
THE HELLISH ACHE in her head made her dig her fingers into her face. The pain of her nails tearing long gashes in her skin was almost satisfying compared with the splitting headache, and it helped her to focus.
Everything was still black, but something had her wake from her deep, dreamless torpor. A tiny crack oflight appeared above her head, and while she was squinting upwards it slowly widened. Unused to light as she was, she did not see but rather heard someone come through the crack that had widened to an opening and climb down the stairs. Someone who came closer and closer in the dark. The confusion made it hard for her to decide whether to feel fear or relief. Both feelings were there, mixed together. First one prevailed, then the other.
The last footsteps coming towards her, where she lay curled up in a foetal position, were as good as soundless. Without a word being spoken, she felt a hand stroke her over the forehead. Perhaps that gesture ought to have been soothing, but the simplicity of the movement made terror take a tight grip on her heart.
The hand continued its way along her body, and she trembled in the darkness. For asecond, it occurred to her that she ought to put up some resistance against the faceless stranger. The thought vanished as rapidlyas it appeared. The darkness was too overwhelming, and the strength in the hand that caressed her penetrated her skin, her nerves, her soul. Submission was her only option, she knew that with a terrifying insight.
When the hand changed from caressing to prising and twisting, pulling and tearing, she was not at all surprised. In a way she welcomed the pain. It was easier to handle the certainty of pain rather than the terror of waiting for the unknown.
The second call from Tord Pedersen had come just a couple of hours after Patrik spoke with Martin. They had a positive ID on one skeleton. Mona Thernblad, the second girl who disappeared in 1979, was one of the bodies found in the King’s Cleft.
Patrik and Martin sat together and went over the information they had gathered during the investigation. Mellberg was conspicuous by his absence, but Gösta Flygare was back on the job after an excellent performance in the golf tournament. He hadn’t won the competition, of course, but to his great surprise and joy had made a hole-in-one and was invited for champagne at the clubhouse. So far Martin and Patrik had heard in great detail about how the ball went straight into the hole with one stroke on the 16th hole. They had no doubt they would hear the story several more times before the day was over. But that didn’t matter. They didn’t begrudge Gösta his joy, and Patrik let him have an hour before they involved him in the investigative work. So for the moment Gösta was ringing round to all his golf buddies to tell them about the Big Event.
‘So it’s some devil who breaks the girls’ bones first before he murders them,’ said Martin. ‘And cuts them with a knife,’ he added.
‘I’m afraid that’s what it looks like. If I were to guess, I’d say there was certainly some sexual motive behind it. Some sadistic fuck who gets off on other people’s pain. The fact that there was semen on Tanja’s body indicates that as well.’
‘Are you going to talk to Mona’s relatives? Tell them that we found her, Imean?’ Martin looked uneasy, but Patrik calmed his fears by taking on the task himself.
‘I thought I’d drive out and see her father this afternoon. Her mother died years ago, so her father is the only one left to notify.’
‘How can you be so sure? Do you know them?’
‘No, but Erica was at the library in Fjällbacka yesterday looking up everything that was written in the press about Siv and Mona. Their disappearances have been reviewed periodically, and there was even an interview with the families a couple of years back. Only Mona’s father is still alive, and Siv only had her mother when she went missing. There was a little daughter as well, so I thought I’d talk to her too –as soon as we’ve got confirmation that Siv is the second woman.’
‘It would be a devil of a coincidence if it was someone else, don
’t you think?’
‘Well, we’ll assume that the skeleton is Siv’s, but we can’t say that for certain yet. Stranger things have happened.’
Patrik rummaged through the photocopies that Erica had brought home for him and fanned some of them out in front of him on the table. He had also laid out the file that he had dug out of the archive in the cellar, intending to put together all the information they had about the disappearance of the two girls. There was a good deal in the newspaper articles that was not included in the investigative material; both sources were necessary to give them a complete picture of what was known so far.
‘Look here. Siv vanished on Midsummer’s’ Eve in 1979, and then Mona disappeared two weeks later.’
In order to clarify and give some order to the material, Patrik got up from his desk chair and wrote on the whiteboard on his wall.
‘Siv Lantin was last seen alive as she was bicyclinghome after a party with friends. The very last witness described how she turned off the main road and rode towards Bräcke. It was two in the morning, and she was seen by a driver who passed her on the road in his car. After that no one saw or heard from her again.’
‘If you disregard Gabriel Hult’s information,’ Martin added.
Patrik nodded in agreement. ‘Yes, if you ignore Gabriel Hult’s testimony, which I think we will for the time being.’ He went on: ‘Mona Thernblad went missing two weeks later. Unlike Siv, she vanished one afternoon in broad daylight. She left her house around three to go out jogging but never came home. One of her jogging shoes was found by the road along her usual route, but nothing more.’
‘Were there any similarities between the girls? Besides the fact that they were about the same age.’
Patrik couldn’t help smiling a little. ‘I can see you’ve been watching that Profiles programme. Unfortunately I have to disappoint you. If we’re dealing with a serial killer, which is what I assume you’re fishing for, there are no obvious external similarities the girls.’ He fastened two black-and-white photographs to the whiteboard.
‘Siv was nineteen years old. Small, dark and curvaceous. She had a reputation for being rather difficult, and she created something of a scandal in Fjällbacka when she had a baby at the age of seventeen. Both she and the baby lived with her mother, but according to what the newspapers claim, Siv liked to go out partying and wasn’t very fond of staying home. Mona, on the other hand, was described as a real family girl who did well in school, had a lot of friends and was generally popular. She was tall and blonde and worked out a good deal. Eighteen years old but still living at home because her mother was sickly, and her father couldn’t take care of her by himself. Nobody seemed to have anything negative to say about her. So the only thing these girls had in common was that they disappeared without a trace from the face of the earth over twenty years ago. And now they’ve appeared as skeletons in the King’s Cleft.’
Martin was leaning his head on his hand, pondering. Both he and Patrik sat in silence for a while, studying the newspaper clippings and the notes on the whiteboard. They were both thinking of how young the girls looked. They would have had so many years left to live, if something evil hadn’t crossed their paths. And then Tanja, who they didn’tyethave a photo of while she was alive. She was a young girl too, with her whole life ahead of her. But now she was dead too.
‘A massive investigation was launched.’ Patrik took a thick stack of typed pages out of the folder. ‘Friends and family of the girls were interviewed. Officers knocked on every door in the area, and known hooligans were also questioned. A total of about a hundred interviews were done, as far as I can see.’
‘Did they produce anything?’
‘No, not a thing. Not until they got the tip from Gabriel Hult. He rang the police himself and told them that he saw Siv in his brother’s car the night she disappeared.’
‘And? That could hardly have been enough to make him a murder suspect, could it?’
‘No. When Gabriel’s brother Johannes was questioned, he denied having spoken to her or even seeing her, but in the absence of any other leads the police chose to focus on him.’
‘Did they make any progress?’ Martin’s eyes were wide with reluctant fascination.
‘No, nothing else came out. And a couple of months later Johannes Hult hanged himself in his barn. So the trail went very cold, you might say.’
‘It seems odd that he took his life so soon afterwards.’
‘Yes, but if he was guilty then it must have been his ghost that murdered Tanja. Dead men don’t kill people.’
‘And what was the deal with his brother calling in and reporting his own flesh and blood? Why would anybody do that?’ Martin frowned. ‘Wait, how stupid can I be? Hult –our faithful old servant in the thieves’ fraternity. He must be related to Stefan and Robert.’
‘Yes, that’s right. Johannes was their father. After reading about the Hult family, I actually have a little more understanding of why Stefan and Robert visit us so often. They were no more than five or six years old when Johannes hanged himself, and Robert was the one who found him in the barn. You can only imagine how that must have affected a six-year-old boy.’
‘Yes, good Lord.’ Martin shook his head. ‘You know, I need a cup of coffee before we go on. My caffeine level is about to reach empty. Would you like a cup?’
Patrik nodded, and a couple of minutes later Martin returned with two cups of steaming hot coffee. For once the weather was right for hot drinks.
Patrik continued his summation. ‘Johannes and Gabriel are the sons of a man named Ephraim Hult, also called the Preacher. Ephraim was a well-known, or you might say notorious, free-churchpastor in Göteborg. He held big meetings at which he had his sons, who were small then, speak in tongues and heal the sick and the lame. Most people considered Ephraim a charlatan and swindler, but even so he hit the jackpot when one of the ladies in his faithful congregation, Margareta Dybling, died and left everything she owned to him. Besides a considerable fortune in ready cash, she left a large forested estate and a magnificent manor house in the vicinity of Fjällbacka. Ephraim suddenly lost all desire to spread God’s word. He moved here with his sons, and the family has been living on the old lady’s money ever since.’
The whiteboard was now covered with notes, and there were papers spread all over Patrik’s desk.
‘Not that it isn’t interesting to have a little family history, but what does this have to do with the murders? As you said, Johannes died more than twenty years before Tanja was murdered, and dead men don’t kill people, as you so eloquently expressed it.’ Martin had a hard time hiding his impatience.
‘True, but I’ve gone over all the old material, and Gabriel’s testimony is actually the only interesting thing I found from the old investigation. I’d also hoped to be able to talk with Errold Lind, who was in charge of the investigation, but unfortunately he died of a heart attack in 1989, so this material is all we have to go on. Unless you have same better suggestions, I propose that we start by finding out a bit more about Tanja, as well as talking with Siv and Mona’s surviving parents. After that we’ll decide whether it’s worth having another talk with Gabriel Hult.’
‘Sure, that sounds sensible. What should I do first?’
‘Start with the investigation about Tanja. And make sure you put Gösta to work on it as of tomorrow. His halcyon days are over.’
‘What about Mellberg and Ernst? What are you going to do about them?’
Patrik sighed. ‘My strategy is to keep them out of it as best I can. That will mean a bigger workload for the rest of us, but I think we’ll come out ahead in the long run. Mellberg will just be glad to get out of doing anything, and besides, he’s basically sworn off this investigation. Ernst will have to keep on doing what he’s been doing, handling as many of the incoming reports as he can. If he needs help we’ll send Gösta. As far as possible, I want the two of us to be free to run this investigation. Understood?’
Martin nodded eagerly. ‘Ye
s, boss.’
‘Then let’s get going.’
After Martin’ left, Patrik sat facing the whiteboard, deep in thought with his hands clasped behind his head. It was an enormous task they were undertaking, and they had hardly any experience inhomicide investigations. His heart sank with a sudden feeling of apprehension. He sincerely hoped that what they lacked in experience they could up for with dedication. Martin was already on board, and damned if he wasn’t going to wake Gösta Flygare out of his Sleeping Beauty sleep as well. If they could just manage to keep Mellberg and Ernst away from the investigation, Patrik thought they might have a chance to solve the murders. But the odds were against them, especially considering that the trail for two of the murders was so cold that it was almost in a freeze. He knew that the best chance they had was to concentrate on Tanja. At the same time his instinct told him that there was such a strong and clear connection between the murders that they would have to be investigated simultaneously. It was not going to be easy to shake some life into the old investigation, but they would have to try.
He grabbed an umbrella from the stand, checked an address in the telephone book, and headed off with a heavy heart. Certain duties demanded more of him than he could humanly bear.
The rain drummed persistently on the windowpanes, and under different circumstances Erica would have welcomed the coolness it brought. But fate and importunate relatives made her feel otherwise, and she was slowly but surely being driven to the brink of madness.
The kids dashed about as if they were going crazy in their frustration at having to stay indoors, while Conny and Britta had begun to turn on each other like cornered dogs. It had not yet escalated to a full-fledged fight, but their bickering had now reached the level of hissing and snapping. Old sins and injustices were being dragged up, and all Erica wanted to do was go upstairs and pull the covers over her head. But once again her good upbringing stood in her way, wagging its finger and forcing her to try to behave in a civilized manner in the midst of a war zone.
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