by Viveca Sten
The woman had seen Kicki at some point on Friday afternoon. If one assumed that she was intending to visit someone who lived on the island, then she must have asked a resident. A sailor or a tourist probably wouldn’t have been able to help. Therefore, there had to be someone who had spoken to Kicki and who knew what questions she had asked.
The problem was that they had yet to find this unknown person. Nor had anyone come forward.
On the other hand, Thomas was well aware that he or she wasn’t necessarily still on the island. Many families shared the houses they had inherited, which meant that they spent only part of their vacation on Sandhamn. If this mysterious individual had left the island and gone somewhere else, perhaps to a different part of the country or even abroad, that would explain why the police hadn’t managed to track him or her down. There could also be an even simpler explanation: the person might not realize that he or she had spoken to the woman who had later been murdered and that the police would be interested. If this was the case, the chances of finding him or her were probably infinitesimal.
Thomas drank the last of his coffee. If they could find out whom Kicki Berggren had spoken to, it would provide an important piece of the puzzle.
He decided to post Erik at the bakery for the entire next day with a photograph of Kicki. He would ask him to speak to every person who turned up to find out if anyone had seen or spoken to her a week ago.
They also needed to question the bakery staff again. There was no guarantee that the girls who had been working there when the police turned up were the same as when Kicki stopped by. He remembered working in a bakery when he was a teenager; the employees had different shifts, coming and going all the time.
Thomas closed his eyes and tried to visualize the bakery. If you headed west from there, where would you end up?
In his mind’s eye he saw the lane where the red building housing the bakery was located. It led past one of the oldest houses on Sandhamn, a little cottage dating back to the eighteenth century where someone by the name of C. J. Sjöblom had once lived. The name was etched into the rock at the bottom of the steps leading up to the cottage. Apparently another past resident, an old woman, had made a living taking in laundry for the islanders.
The very thought of washing clothes by hand in winter in the ice-cold water made Thomas shudder.
He continued walking through the village in his mind.
If you carried on along the lane, you passed the little hill where children of every age wore out the seat of their pants by sliding down and landing on the sand.
Then came a row of old houses, followed by the marina for small boats to the north, then Kvarnberget.
Eventually you reached Fläskberget, an attractive sandy shore, which many families in the village preferred to the more famous Trouville beach, which was often packed with tourists.
Finally you came to Västerudd, the western point of the island, which consisted mainly of pine forests and low-growing blueberry bushes, with the odd large house and garden dotted around. It was on the beach between Koberget and Västerudd that Krister Berggren’s body had been found, next to a house owned by the Åkermark family. A stretch of sand with virtually no sign of habitation.
Thomas realized that if Kicki Berggren had been on her way to the western side of the island, it meant that the Trouville area could be discounted completely. This in turn meant that the search area was significantly reduced.
A welcome thought under the circumstances.
He decided to spend the following morning concentrating on the area between the bakery and Västerudd. With a bit of luck they would be able to find someone who had seen a blond woman in high heels wandering around last Friday.
Thomas stretched. He had earned a cold beer down by the jetty. At least he felt like he was getting somewhere.
CHAPTER 42
“What time are we leaving, Mom?” Simon patted Nora’s arm and planted a soft kiss on her cheek.
Nora looked around, only half-awake. The digital clock showed that it was only 7:20. Far too early to get up, at least if she had anything to say about it.
“What do you mean, sweetheart?”
“What time are we leaving for Alskär? We’re going there with Fabian’s family, remember? That’s what you said yesterday.”
Nora suppressed a groan. She had completely forgotten that they had promised to take the children to the little island immediately northeast of Sandhamn, just a ten-minute boat trip away. There was a natural sandy beach on Alskär, plus a tiny island opposite that you could wade to. The children loved going there and making their way across the little sound.
Yesterday afternoon, when she was in a really good mood, she had happily agreed with Eva Lenander that they would spend Sunday on Alskär together. Eva’s son, Fabian, was Simon’s best friend on Sandhamn, and the Lenanders lived just a few minutes away.
A lovely day out with a picnic on the beach. Today it didn’t have quite the same appeal.
She turned her head and gazed at Henrik, who was still fast asleep.
She had been furious and disappointed when she’d gotten home last night. In spite of the fact that she was still awake when Henrik arrived soon after her, she’d pretended to be asleep. She hadn’t had the slightest desire to speak to him.
A trip with the Lenanders would mean they wouldn’t have the opportunity to sort out last night’s argument. Instead they would have to keep up the pretense all day, acting as if everything were fine. That didn’t feel right.
“Come on, Mom, when are we leaving?”
“Sweetheart, do you know what time it is? Come and cuddle and try to sleep for a bit longer. It’s much too early to go anywhere.”
Nora drew Simon close and pulled the covers over him. She could already feel the beginnings of a headache, but she couldn’t work out whether it was due to the lack of sleep or her anger at Henrik.
“Just for a little while,” she said.
Nora closed her eyes and tried to get back to sleep. It was easier said than done. Simon was wide awake and incapable of keeping still. If he wasn’t kicking her in the kidneys, he was pushing his little face up against her ribs. At around eight o’clock she gave up.
“OK, come on. We’ll get dressed and cycle down to the bakery for some fresh bread.”
At the bakery, they were met by the aroma of freshly baked bread and warm cakes. Other summer visitors who were up bright and early stood around in small groups, waiting for the shop to open. Nora chatted with several people she knew while waiting in line.
She bought fresh rolls and a loaf of bread. Simon was allowed to choose which cakes they should take with them to Alskär. He settled for two Sandhamn knots flavored with cardamom and two flaky Danish pastries with a generous dollop of vanilla in the center.
With Simon on the luggage rack, she carried on to the kiosk to buy a morning paper. There was no line when she got there, just a dog racing around with his tail in the air in spite of the fact that his owner was calling to him. A few hungry gulls circled overhead, searching for some discarded delicacy on which they could feast.
“Morning,” Nora greeted the woman in the kiosk, whose family she had known ever since she was a little girl. “Could I have a nice fresh morning paper, please?”
She held out her money and was met with a wry smile.
“I should think so. If you want to read the paper, that is. There seems to be no end to the nonsense they can come up with about the Sandhamn murders. And then there are the evening papers. We’ll see what nonsense they’ve made up after lunch.”
Nora took the paper and tucked it under her arm. “Have the deaths made a difference in your sales?”
“I’m afraid so. We usually have a line here in the afternoons at this time of year, but it’s been much quieter, and I should think it’ll get worse now that the regatta is over. I hope the police catch the kil
ler soon. Otherwise businesses out here are going to be in trouble. We make our living in the summer.”
Nora stayed and chatted for a little while, then she lifted Simon back onto the luggage rack and cycled home. She hoped Henrik was still asleep. She almost wished he were still out sailing. She needed to think things through before she spoke to him.
As soon as breakfast was over, Nora started packing for their day out.
It was quite a task. Four beach towels, a picnic blanket, a mountain of beach toys in various colors, a big basket of sandwiches, pastries, juice, and a thermos of coffee. At the last minute she remembered to put in a roll of toilet paper; it always came in handy. Sunscreen and four life jackets, and she was ready.
The cordless phone rang, and she answered it.
“Nora, my dear.” Her mother-in-law’s domineering voice filled the receiver. Nora stiffened; the harsh sound of Monica Linde filled her entire body with distaste. “I want to speak to Henrik. Bring the children, and come over to Ingarö right now. I’ve already prepared the guesthouse. You can’t stay on that island while there’s a murderer on the loose.”
Nora sighed and forced herself not to lose her temper. She would rather stay on Sandhamn with ten murderers than spend one night with Monica at their country house on Ingarö. The long tradition of spending Christmas there with the entire Linde clan was more than enough. Monica ruled the roost, and Nora made such an effort to keep her mouth shut that her jaws ached. Henrik didn’t notice a thing, as usual. Once he was back in the home where he grew up he reverted to a spoiled teenager, letting his mom do everything. Meanwhile, Nora ran around trying to keep the boys in order and helping out as best she could. Her father-in-law usually fled to the sauna with an enormous drink, but she didn’t have that luxury.
“I’m sorry, Monica. Henrik is already down at the jetty. We’re going out for the day. I’ll ask him to call you when we get back.”
She quickly ended the call in spite of Monica’s protests. Henrik had in fact gone down to the boat to get everything ready and check that there was enough fuel in the tank.
Nora slipped on her life jacket and turned the key in the door. She didn’t usually bother to lock up; on the contrary, she often left the veranda door open, both to let in some fresh air and to show that they were home. But at the moment it just didn’t feel safe, particularly as they were going to be out all day.
As she was passing Signe’s house, the kitchen window opened, and a familiar face appeared.
“Are you going sailing?”
“It looks that way,” Nora said. She really was fond of her neighbor. “We’re going to Alskär; the kids love it. We’re going with the Lenanders—you know, Fabian’s parents.”
“What a good idea—Alskär is a wonderful place.”
Nora smiled at Signe. Just the thought of a boat trip made her feel more cheerful.
“Take these for the boys.” Signe passed a bag of jam tarts out of the window. “I know they love them, and I expect even you and Henrik might manage one or two.”
“That’s so kind of you—thank you!” Nora took the sweets, placed them carefully in her beach bag, and waved her grateful thanks to Signe before heading down to the jetty.
Henrik had already cast off, and the boys were sitting in the prow. As usual Adam had been pestering Henrik, demanding to steer; Henrik had promised that he could have a try as soon as they were out in open water.
Nora sat down in the middle of the boat, at a safe distance from Henrik.
They had maintained a polite and neutral tone all morning and had discussed only practical matters. Neither of them had mentioned the previous night’s argument. Fortunately the boys had been jumping around, full of excitement about the day’s outing, and it had been easy to hide behind their eager chatter.
The Lenanders were already there when they arrived. Henrik maneuvered in among the rocks and dropped anchor. Alskär had a natural harbor, so it was just a matter of finding a suitable place to moor the boat. Everyone tried to avoid dragging the boats up onto the shore so that the little beach was left free for the children to build their sandcastles.
After their picnic Nora went for a walk with Eva. On the other side of the island there was an area of completely flat stones, worn so smooth by wind and water that it felt like a baby’s bottom when you ran a hand over the warm rock. Nora and Eva sat down for a while.
It was a beautiful spot. Far away they could just see the tower of the lighthouse on Korsö, with lots of yachts in the distance. The sky was a perfect shade of blue, with the odd wispy cloud here and there. They looked like little scraps of the finest cotton wool, dotted across the sky. A herring gull swooped after food on the surface of the water.
“So, how are things?” Eva asked. She had become a good friend in recent years. Nora saw her almost every day, since Fabian and Simon attended swimming lessons together. Eva was one of those rare individuals who really seemed to care about other people and was always in a good mood.
Nora met Eva’s concerned gaze. She knew she had been unusually subdued all day.
“Could be better. It hasn’t been a great week, has it?” Nora said.
“Did you have a good time last night?”
“Not exactly. We had a massive fight about that job I mentioned the other day.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Eva placed a consoling hand on Nora’s shoulder.
Nora tucked her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. She thought for a moment before she answered. “Henrik can’t understand why I’m interested in working in Malmö. He won’t even try to listen. He doesn’t want to move away from Stockholm; he thinks we have a good life at the moment, and there’s nothing to discuss.” She picked up a small pebble and skimmed it across the water. It bounced three times before sinking. She found another that was nice and flat and tried again. This time she counted four. Her personal best was seven, but that must have been at least fifteen years ago—maybe even twenty. “It’s as if his job is the only one that counts.”
“But you do have a good life, don’t you?” Eva said.
“That’s not the point. We have a great life, of course we do, but at least we ought to be able to talk about this before he dismisses the whole idea. What do you think would have happened if it had been the other way round? If he’d been made a terrific offer from Sahlgrenska University Hospital in Gothenburg?” She picked up another pebble and hurled it furiously into the sea. It sank immediately. “I just can’t stand the thought of going back after our vacation and working with Ragnar again. The man is a complete idiot.” She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. “And I’m an idiot if I don’t move. Particularly when the bank is offering me an opportunity like this.”
Eva patted her on the shoulder again to show her sympathy. Then she adjusted the strap of her red swimsuit and lay down on her stomach on the warm rock. “This hasn’t been an easy week for you. How’s the investigation going, by the way? Have you heard anything from Thomas?”
Nora shook her head. “I haven’t spoken to him—we’ve just exchanged some texts. He’s been so busy. He sent a message to tell me he’d be on Harö this weekend, mainly to get some sleep, I think. He’s been working all hours. The last time I saw him he looked absolutely shattered.”
“There was something I wanted to talk to him about . . . I think.”
Nora looked at Eva, who frowned and started chewing her thumbnail. “What do you mean?”
“We had visitors from Stockholm last Sunday. Malin called me last night to say thanks.” Eva hesitated. “She said she was almost certain she’d been sitting a couple seats away from Jonny Almhult on the ferry back to Stockholm.”
Nora sat up and turned her head so she could see Eva more clearly in the bright sunlight. “Is she sure?”
“She said she remembered him because he stank of stale booze. They were only
a few feet apart. Her oldest daughter wanted to know why he smelled so horrible. You know, the way kids do.”
“Go on.”
“That’s it. They disembarked, and she didn’t give it another thought until Jonny’s body was found, and she saw his picture in the paper. That was when she realized he’d been sitting near them on the ferry.” She fell silent and looked anxiously at Nora.
“Has she called the police?”
“I don’t think so. It didn’t sound as if she had. Should I mention it to Thomas?”
“Definitely,” Nora said. “Thomas told me every piece of information is valuable. They’re trying to find out where Jonny was before he died. Did your friend see where he went when they got to Stockholm?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t think to ask,” Eva said.
Nora got to her feet. “Come on. Let’s go back. We need to call Thomas.”
MONDAY, THE FOURTH WEEK
CHAPTER 43
Margit had left her family and traveled up from the west coast. She was sitting at her desk reading through all the case notes, and she was in a foul mood. Any hope of a restful, uninterrupted vacation had been shattered. The situation was not improved by the fact that her teenage daughter had immediately found soul mates of her own age and was more than happy to escape her mother’s watchful eye.
Thomas and Margit had gone through the entire investigation from start to finish, and he had summarized the events of the past week.
They were still unable to find a link between Krister and Kicki Berggren and Sandhamn. Neither their background nor a search of their respective apartments had come up with anything that could lead to someone on the island. They had received a number of calls from the public but nothing of any real value.
The money was on Sandhamn, Agneta Ahlin had said. Thomas kept thinking about that. What money? And where was it?
