‘How are you going to have children if you don’t have a husband?’ Rosa mocks. ‘Are you a bit dim or what? You just needed a man for a few minutes to make babies. Just look at their own mothers. Both had children and no husbands. ‘And no,’ she went on when Alice opened her mouth. ‘Don’t give me that nonsense about your dad sailing the seven seas again. I’m sick of your stories.’
Then Rosa’s mother appears in the kitchen, dressed in a silky red robe. Her cheeks are streaked with black mascara. She reaches for her pack of cigarettes and curses when she discovers there’s just one left. Rosa pulls out her lighter and her mum pushes her hair behind her ear, puts the cigarette to the flame and inhales.
‘I think,’ Rosa’s mother says and looks at Rosa. ‘I think it’s time for your little friend to go home now.’
‘Go home, Alice,’ Rosa says. ‘Come on, go home, will you? Don’t just stand there staring.’
When Alice gets home that evening, her mother is sitting on the floor attempting to tie her shoelaces with aching fingers. Why does she insist on wearing shoes with laces she can no longer tie?
Alice asks her where she’s going. She bends down to help, but her mother waves her away. She doesn’t need her shoes any more. She was only putting them on to go out to look for her.
‘I was just at Rosa’s,’ Alice tells her.
Yes, she had replied, but even so, it was time to come home. She didn’t have to spend the evenings at Rosa’s as well.
Alice asks why she doesn’t like Rosa and her mum replies that she doesn’t trust her. That it would be good if Alice could meet some nicer friends.
Alice thinks to herself that her mum has only seen Rosa’s bad sides, that she uses swear words and is rowdy and doesn’t respect grown-ups. What does her mum know about the times when she and Rosa warm each other’s bodies in the night, about their games in the tree house and the jokes only they understand? What does she know about Rosa’s whispered words about how they’re more than friends, how they’re sisters, how they will always protect each other?
23
Rebecka arrived at the station fifteen minutes after being called in. She was staying home from school. They had offered to come to her, but she had told them she was out and about anyway. But there was still one slight problem, Adnan said as he entered Charlie and Anders’s office to tell them Rebecka had arrived.
‘What’s the problem?’ Charlie asked.
‘She brought her younger sister.’
‘Why?’
‘I didn’t ask, but I assume their mother’s away somewhere.’
‘Shouldn’t she be in pre-school?’
‘Apparently not,’ Adnan said.
‘How old is she?’
‘Three, maybe.’
‘You’re going to have to look after her,’ Charlie said.
‘But I was just about to head out to check on Missing People’s progress.’
‘Someone else will have to do that.’
Adnan turned around, muttering something. They followed him to the reception area where Rebecka was sitting on a sofa with her sister on her lap.
‘I didn’t know what do with her,’ she said when Charlie walked over and introduced herself. ‘It’s a planning day at her pre-school and Mum’s at work and I can’t face going to school anyway, so …’
‘Would you like to come and have a look at the police car while your sister talks to the lady for a bit?’ Adnan asked the little girl.
‘Go with him, Noomi,’ Rebecka told her. ‘Go see the police car and I’ll be right there.’
Her sister reluctantly let go of her hand.
Rebecka Gahm took a seat on the other side of the desk. Without make-up, her face looked younger than seventeen.
‘We appreciate you coming in at such short notice,’ Charlie said.
‘It was no problem. It’s not like I have anything more important to do than help you find Annabelle. But I don’t know what else I can tell you. I’ve already told the police about that night.’
‘I just wanted to meet with you in person,’ Charlie said. ‘My colleague and I’ – she nodded to Anders – ‘we’ve come in from Stockholm.’
‘I know. Or I mean, I can tell from your accent.’
Charlie smiled and told her why they were there; Rebecka listened intently.
‘How long have you been friends, you and Annabelle?’ Charlie said.
‘Forever, or at least since pre-school.’
‘So it would be fair to say you know her well?’
‘Of course. No one knows Bella like I do.’
‘How did she seem that night?’
‘She was drunk.’
‘But before that?’
‘I was pretty tipsy myself when she came over, but she seemed a bit … upset.’
‘Did she say why?’
‘No, or maybe she did. I have a few memory lapses.’
‘Was it just alcohol,’ Charlie asked, ‘or did you do other things as well?’
‘Just alcohol,’ Rebecka said. She met Charlie’s eyes without looking away or even blinking. Charlie thought to herself that maybe she had read somewhere that that’s what people do when they’re telling the truth.
‘Do you know what time Annabelle left the party?’
‘No, not exactly. But I saw her leave. I was about to have a smoke by the window just then and saw her stagger down the road. I called out to her, but she didn’t respond, so I went downstairs, but by the time I got outside, she was already gone. I didn’t even see her further down the road, even though I ran after her for a bit.’
‘Why did you run after her?’
‘Why? Because she was drunk, obviously. She was so drunk she could barely walk and I figured she might fall asleep in some ditch somewhere, that she would never make it home and … I shouldn’t have gone back. If I’d just caught up with her and walked her home, then …’
‘That’s no way to think,’ Anders said.
‘Yes it is,’ Rebecka retorted. ‘That’s exactly how I think.’
‘What direction was she walking?’
‘She walked down the gravel road behind the village shop, as though she were on her way home.’
‘I’ve been told you had a fight that night,’ Charlie said. ‘Can you tell me about that?’
Rebecka rolled her eyes. She’d already told Olof and Adnan about the whole William thing.
‘Tell me,’ Charlie said.
‘I took him,’ Rebecka said. ‘William Stark. I took him, but only because Bella didn’t want him any more. Otherwise I would never have taken him.’
Rebecka talked about William as though he were an object without a will of his own. Charlie pondered whether Annabelle was in the habit of doing that too, if it was the common jargon between the two friends when discussing blokes they met.
‘Do you like him?’ she said. ‘Do you like William Stark?’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ Rebecka retorted.
‘I’m just asking if you like him.’
‘Yeah, I suppose I do, but we’re not exactly planning our wedding, or whatever.’
‘And were you perhaps interested in him while he was together with Annabelle too?’
‘What do you mean? You’re not implying that I …’
‘I’m not implying anything,’ Charlie said. ‘I’m just asking.’
She noted the way Rebecka’s face changed colour and reasoned that since she was already making her so upset, she might as well continue.
‘Were you jealous of Annabelle and William’s relationship?’
Rebecka shook her head. Why would she have been jealous of that? And even if she had been, she would never, ever have hurt Annabelle.
‘And besides,’ she went on, ‘who would kill a person over something like jealousy?’
‘Actually,’ Charlie put in, ‘that’s a fairly common reason for murder.’
‘I would never hurt Bella over some guy,’ Rebecka said. ‘I would never hurt her for any reaso
n. Maybe you’re not getting that I love her, that she’s my best friend.’
She put her forearm on the table and showed them the heart on her wrist. Becka and Bella forever.
‘It’s not what you think,’ she continued when she noticed Anders studying the red scratch marks running across the tattoo, ‘it’s the factory, everyone who works in the factory looks like this. I suppose I look worse than most, actually,’ she said and sighed. ‘It’s because I can’t resist picking at it.’
‘I thought you were still in school,’ Charlie said.
‘I am, but I work extra at the weekends sometimes.’ Rebecka let her fingertips tenderly trace the text. ‘Bella has the same one. We had them done last summer. This too.’ She showed them her other wrist. It was adorned with a small, dark blue semicolon. ‘It was Annabelle’s idea. She said it was a symbol of the fact that our history wouldn’t end here, that there was more to come.’
Rebecka pulled a tissue from her purse and blew her nose loudly. It was as though she was trying to focus on something other than the tears that had started dripping steadily onto the table top.
Charlie felt like crying too. There was something about Rebecka’s defiant hope that made it difficult to keep control of her feelings. Don’t let this story end here, she thought to herself.
‘Why did things end between Annabelle and William?’ Anders asked.
‘I guess it didn’t work out. Annabelle’s not really the girlfriend type. I guess neither one of us is.’
‘So she ended it?’
‘William says it was a mutual decision, but I reckon it was mostly Annabelle.’
‘Was she sad?’ Charlie said.
‘Not particularly, not from what she told me, anyway.’
Charlie looked down at Rebecka’s fingers on the desk. Nail biter, she noted when Rebecka’s hand went up to touch the necklace with the thin gold cross around her neck.
‘Are you Christian?’ Charlie nodded to her necklace.
‘Not really. It was a gift for confirmation.’
‘Annabelle is Christian.’
Rebecka smiled. ‘I think that’s just a phase.’
Charlie asked her what she meant.
‘I mean that she goes all in whenever she gets something in her head; it could be anything. She likes to say that she wants to drill down to the core of things to see if they suit her or not. She might be joining a science club or something next.’ Rebecka cleared her throat and continued in a quieter voice: ‘If there is a next.’
‘Would you say she is easily led?’
‘Not easily led,’ Rebecka said. ‘Absolutely not. Annabelle is … she’s smart. She’s not the kind of person you can control. But she’s curious. She’s probably the most curious person I know.’
‘Do you know if Annabelle had any social media accounts?’ Charlie said. ‘The kind only a select few would know about?’
‘Like a second profile on Facebook?’ Rebecka said. ‘I know she used to have one where she helped people with school stuff. But I don’t think she’s active on that any more. She felt it took up too much of her time.’
‘What do you mean helped?’ Charlie said and shot Anders a quick glance.
‘That she would write essays and do homework.’
‘And what did she get in return?’
‘Money,’ Rebecka replied, ‘money, booze or cigarettes.’
‘Do you know what her handle was?’
‘A Friend in Need. Fitting, don’t you think?’ Rebecka swallowed a few times and looked out of the window. Her legs had started twitching under the table.
‘I need a smoke,’ Charlie said, ignoring Anders’s sceptical look. ‘Want to come?’
Rebecka nodded and stood up.
They went out to the backyard. Two children who looked too young to be by themselves were digging around in a sand pit some way away. Charlie handed Rebecka a cigarette and took one herself.
‘I can’t sleep at night any more,’ Rebecka said and took a deep drag. ‘When I’m not out looking, I still can’t sleep, and as soon as I doze off, I just dream of her.’ She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.
‘What kind of dreams?’
‘Just a bunch of weird stuff. I dream that we’re little again, in pre-school, that we’re hiding at the far end of a boat they had in the playroom there. We used to do that, Bella and me, hide in there when the food was gross or when we’d done something we shouldn’t. There was like this tiny hole at the far end, too small for the teachers to squeeze through. They bribed us, threatened and yelled to make us come out, but we wouldn’t listen. It’s gone now. The hole, I mean; I noticed when I picked my sister up once, that it had been boarded up.’
They didn’t say anything for a while.
‘It’s so bloody hot,’ Rebecka said. ‘If this had been an ordinary day, Bella and I would have gone down to Little Rhodes. A beach,’ she clarified, ‘not the real Rhodes.’
Charlie smiled.
‘Surely, if this had been an ordinary day, you would have been in school?’
‘Sure, I guess so.’ Rebecka threw her butt on the ground, then she changed her mind, ground it out and picked it back up. ‘There’s no telling what they’ll stick in their mouths,’ she said with a nod to the toddlers in the sand pit.
‘There’s a can here,’ Charlie said. ‘Do you want another one?’
‘Are you for real?’ Rebecka said gravely. ‘I mean this … kindness, is it some kind of strategy to make me talk?’
‘Don’t you want to talk?’
Rebecka nodded and took another cigarette from the pack Charlie held out to her.
‘You said she was upset,’ Charlie said. ‘What do you think that was about? What would normally make Annabelle upset?’
‘Bella gets upset a lot,’ Rebecka said and smiled. ‘She has a pretty fiery temper. But I guess it’s worst with her mum.’ Rebecka leaned in and let Charlie light her cigarette. ‘They fight quite a lot. Bella likes to say Nora makes her feel sick.’
‘What do you think she meant by that?’
‘I guess it’s fairly obvious, that her mum’s need for control is suffocating her.’
‘What do you think of Nora?’
‘What do I think of her?’
‘Yes.’
‘I think she’s not entirely right in the head. There’s something seriously wrong with that woman.’
‘How is she to you?’
‘I don’t think she likes me very much. I reckon she thinks I drag her little girl along to all kinds of bad things.’
‘Do you?’
‘I suppose we drag each other, if anything.’ Rebecka sucked on her cigarette. ‘You need to know one thing about Annabelle, no one drags her along if she doesn’t want to go. Annabelle’s tough.’
‘Does she have enemies?’
‘Maybe not enemies, exactly, but sure, there are people who are bothered by her. I think it’s because she’s smart, because she takes up a lot of space. That kind of thing can get you pretty fucking hated in this place.’
‘Do you have anyone in particular in mind?’
‘Just generally. But she’s been bickering with Svante Linder quite a bit. Though that seems more like she hates him than the other way around.’
‘Did they fight that night?’
‘No more than usual, I don’t think. But I wasn’t with her the whole time, since I was upstairs … with William.’
The door opened behind them. It was Adnan, bringing Rebecka’s sister. The little girl was red in the face from crying.
‘She wants to go home,’ Adnan said.
Rebecka hiked the girl up on her hip. Noomi nuzzled into her sister’s neck. Rebecka stroked her back and told her they were going to go home and make pancakes with jam and whipped cream.
Like a mother, Charlie mused, like a mother soothing her child. Adnan went back inside.
‘If there’s anything else, just give me a call, okay?’ Rebecka said.
‘Rebecka,’ Charlie s
aid to her back as she started walking away. ‘What do you think has happened to Annabelle?’
‘What I think?’ Rebecka stopped dead, turned around and looked at her. ‘I hope she ran away. With her mother, I would have. I’m calling and texting her constantly, hoping she’ll pick up, that she’ll tell me she left town, that she’s alive and okay.’
‘But it’s been almost a week,’ Charlie said.
‘I know how long it’s been. I just told you what I’m hoping. I have to get her home now.’ Rebecka nodded to her sister. ‘I’ll be in touch if I think of anything else.’
Rebecka lifted her sister up onto her shoulders. Her sister started laughing. Charlie watched them until they rounded the corner before going back in.
‘Anything new?’ Micke suddenly appeared behind Charlie. He laughed when she shrieked. He hadn’t realised she was so jumpy.
‘I just didn’t hear you coming,’ Charlie said. ‘I need to have a private conversation with Nora Roos,’ she continued.
‘So you do think Nora …’
‘I don’t think anything, but we need to find out more about what’s going on in that family; why is Nora so controlling when it comes to her daughter; why … well, you get what I mean. Could you check out a Facebook profile as well, “A Friend in Need”? Annabelle used it as a platform to do other students’ schoolwork for money.’
‘All right,’ Micke said.
‘And set up a meeting with William Stark as well. I need to talk to him.’
‘Now?’
‘In an hour. I just need to run an errand first.’
‘What about lunch?’ Micke asked. ‘We were just saying we were going to order from the motel.’
‘I’ll just grab something later.’
24
The heat hit Charlie like a wall when she left the station. She undid the top button of her shirt and walked down the high street towards the health centre and chemist’s. She thought about Anders’s negative attitude towards the town, the smelter that spoiled the view and the smell from the paper mill, which today was so faint as to be unnoticeable. He was missing something, she thought to herself, because now, with the birds singing and the river rushing and the smell of grass and flowers, this was a very beautiful place. It was exactly the kind of idyll the papers always wrote about in their stupid articles. But it was hot. She regretted wearing jeans, but the dresses she had thrown in her suitcase were all on the short side. She wondered whether the Outlet Barn with its cheap clothes was still in business on the outskirts of town. If the heatwave persisted, she was going to have to buy some new things.
For the Missing Page 12
