Never End

Never End Page 16

by Ake Edwardson

  'How long do I have to put up with this?' he'd asked over coffee at breakfast.

  'Until you've driven the devil out of your body.'

  'He's been in there for a long time.'

  'You'll make it, Erik.'

  'There are other brands.'

  'This is your opportunity. Destiny has finally given you a chance,' she'd said.

  'Swedish Match, more like,' he'd replied.

  He put another lump of chewing gum in his mouth, chewed, then spat it out again. Images were flitting through his mind. Another investigation, another set of pictures being circulated around the team. Pictures of dead bodies, body parts. Children. Children's drawings. Houses. Cars. Trees. Rocks. Sea. Forest clearings. Several bodies. Dead faces: swollen, shot away, mashed. Year after year. No end to it.

  Brick walls. Graduation parties. Living faces that would be dead within a few weeks. They had some sort of key, but what was it? A skeleton key that didn't fit any lock. This had happened, but why and how and when and who and ...?

  'Unlicensed clubs,' said Halders. He was back at work, three days after the funeral. He looked leaner, thinner. No badinage, no jokes. A new man. No oral wrestling with Aneta Djanali who was sitting a couple of chairs away. Winter wondered if she might miss that. Maybe they'd all miss the old Halders? He would never return.

  'This reeks of unlicensed clubs,' said Halders, looking at the slide currently on the screen. Möllerström had drawn the blinds and started the projector. First Beatrice. Then Angelika. The same wall.

  'We'll have to check everything,' said Ringmar.

  'There are people who keep an eye on restaurants,' said Bergenhem. 'Check up on pubs and bars. Health and Safety folk. And the Fire Brigade, I assume.'

  'Yep,' said Winter. 'Follow that up. Bring in the uniforms as well.'

  'Of course.'

  'Report back with this location.'

  'I'll find it.'

  'Unlicensed clubs are springing up like mushrooms wherever you look, all the time,' said Halders. 'You cut one out, and two new ones grow to replace it.'

  'Not this one,' said Winter. 'Always assuming it is an unlicensed club.' He turned to look at the slide, with Beatrice and the wall behind her. 'This picture was taken at least five years ago. It seems to be the same place.'

  'The wall in the background looks the same,' Halders said. 'But we don't know that for sure. It could be a different one, couldn't it?' He looked round.

  'I'll find it,' said Bergenhem, turning to look at Halders.

  They were in Winter's office. Winter was pacing back and forth between the window and his desk. Ringmar was just sitting there.

  'You seem to be a bit on edge,' he said.

  'Can you see any cigarillos in here?'

  'I can't, to be honest.'

  'There's your explanation.'

  'Have you tried patches?'

  Winter pulled up his shirt and displayed his stomach.

  'Chewing gum?'

  Winter opened his mouth.

  'Exercise?'

  'No time.'

  'Work?'

  'Yes.' He sat down. 'Who was pointing that camera?'

  'Do you think it's the same person? The same photographer?' Ringmar asked.

  'We don't get that kind of luck.'

  'I take it that it was her own camera? Beatrice's. I assume the pictures were taken with her camera?'

  'We're checking with a photography specialist. They might even be able to tell us the make of camera.'

  'Sounds difficult.'

  'And then?'

  'Who was pointing it,' Ringmar said.

  'Perhaps they were just taking pictures of each other,' said Winter.

  'Everybody says they didn't know each other.'

  'But they might have done.'

  He'd shown the photo of Beatrice to Cecilia, Angelika's friend. She hadn't recognised her. Never seen her before.

  'I don't claim to be an expert, but these pictures give the impression of having been taken by an amateur,' said Ringmar.

  They looked at each other. They knew there was no camera at Angelika's place. She'd had one, but they hadn't found it. They didn't know which lab had developed the pictures.

  Beatrice's camera was still at her parents' house. In all probability the pictures they'd found there had been taken with that camera. They had the pictures and they had the camera.

  But who had taken the picture of Beatrice? Who had pointed her camera? Who had taken the picture of Angelika? Who had pointed the camera? What camera was it that time?

  Halders and Djanali went to see the Bielkes again. The father looked disapproving, but let them in. Jeanette came downstairs and they went out into the garden. Halders was in his shirtsleeves, Djanali was wearing a thin blouse. Jeanette looked as if she were freezing.

  She examined the photographs Djanali handed her. The wall behind Angelika, the same wall behind Beatrice.

  'I recognise the black girl, but she's been in all the papers,' she said. 'Is in, come to that. They're still writing quite a lot about it.'

  Halders nodded.

  'Why are you showing me these?'

  'Because you might be able to help us find that club they're at, or whatever it is.' Halders took back one of the pictures. 'We don't go out clubbing every night.'

  'Really? I thought you knew all about the clubs and pubs in Gothenburg.'

  'Not this one. We're looking, but we haven't found it yet.'

  'Keep looking,' she said.

  'That wall's quite an unusual feature.'

  'Never seen it before.'

  'Have you ever been to an unlicensed club, Jeanette?'

  'Eh?' She looked at Djanali, who had asked the question. 'What did you say?'

  'An unlicensed club. There are lots of them in Gothenburg. Have you ever been to one?'

  'No.'

  'But you've heard about places like that?'

  'Yes.'

  'From whom?'

  'How do you mean?'

  'How have you heard about them?'

  'I can read. They write about such places.'

  'Do you know anybody who's been to one?' Djanali asked.

  'No.'

  'Do you know anybody who's spoken about them?'

  'No.'

  'You've only read about them.'

  'Yes.'

  'Do you know any names?' asked Halders.

  'How would I know that?'

  'The night you were attacked. You hadn't been to one of those places?'

  'What is all this?' she said. 'How long are you going to keep on at me?'

  'I'll be absolutely honest with you, Jeanette.' Halders gave her as stern a look as he could manage. 'Spell it out. The fact is that when somebody's been through something as awful as you have ... they're frightened of appearing in a bad light. After what happened. Some don't want to say they'd been drinking. Or gone off with somebody they shouldn't have gone with. Or been somewhere they shouldn't have been.'

  'Such as an illegal club.'

  'Yes.'

  'But that doesn't apply to me. I wasn't there.'

  Jeanette caught sight of a sparrow hopping over the lawn. The sun hit the sparrow and made it look like a little flame. It flew up and disappeared.

  'Where is that bloody boy?' said Ringmar.

  'Or his dad,' said Winter. 'If that is his father in the photo from the graduation party.'

  'There's been a country-wide appeal,' said Ringmar. 'Somebody ought to have turned up by now.'

  Anne did what she was required to do to the music, then returned to the dressing room. When she came out she noticed that face in the bar. It was looking at her with eyes she couldn't and didn't want to see. There was something insane about those eyes.

  There were signs of light in the sky when she left the building, like thin fingers of cloud pointing in the direction she was going. She walked down the steps that smelled just as awful as they always did. There weren't many people in the street. The glow from the street lights blended with
the night.

  As she crossed the road she turned round and saw the man with the face coming down the steps. She speeded up and looked round again. He was no longer there.

  Her mobile rang in her handbag.

  'Where are you?'

  'On my way,' she said. 'That was the last time.'

  17

  Anne ordered a beer. There were hanging baskets with flowers all round the pavement café. It was still hot, almost stifling. A black cloud loomed in the east. The birds were flying low.

  'False alarm,' said Andy, following her gaze. 'It's not going to rain.'

  'Not that I want it to,' she said.

  'I wouldn't mind a drop. The crops could do with a soaking, as the farmers say.'

  'Really?'

  'Oh yes, they're always saying that.'

  'It must be ten years since you last crossed the city boundary, Andy. Here comes my beer.'

  Andy raised his glass.

  'I've been longing for this,' she said.

  'Was it so awful?'

  'One more week, and then I'm packing it in.'

  'You said when you phoned that this was your last show.'

  'I'm packing it in next week.'

  'Why haven't you stopped already?'

  'You know why.'

  'Money isn't everything,' he said, taking another drink. He looked up and saw that the swallows were flying higher now. The black cloud on the eastern horizon was sinking down.

  'I needed some at the time.'

  'Money tends to create a need for more,' he said.

  'It's not all that much.'

  'Enough.'

  'It's not the way you think,' she said. 'I don't need the money any more. Not in that way. Not because of that.'

  'And then, I suppose earning it isn't as easy as you thought.'

  'No.'

  'Did you really think it would be?'

  She shrugged. 'I can close my eyes.'

  'Not all the time. You have to look sometimes or you'll lose your balance.'

  'He was there again last night,' she said after a short pause.

  'Relax.'

  'He has this ... look.'

  'Don't they all?'

  'He's so bloody scary, Andy.'

  'Aren't they all?'

  She took another sip of beer and waited for a group to edge their way past to the big table behind them.

  'He frightens me.'

  'That's no doubt a good thing.'

  'It's as if he ... knows something. As if he wants to say something.'

  'What?'

  'He smiles sometimes, as if he knows something. As if he knows that I know.'

  'Know? Know what?'

  He looked at her and waited. The newly arrived group started singing. One of them looked proud, perhaps slightly embarrassed.

  'Andy, I haven't said anything about this.'

  'About what? Now you've lost me completely.'

  'The girl that was murdered. Raped and murdered. Angelika. Angelika Hansson.'

  'I know about that. You can't miss it the moment you pick up a newspaper.'

  'I knew her ... From the club,' Anne said.

  'From the club? Was she a dancer?'

  'No. She worked behind the bar.'

  'When ... when it happened? I mean, was she working there when it happened? That same night?'

  'I think so. I saw her the day before.'

  'And?'

  'What do you mean?'

  'What conclusion have you drawn from that?'

  'I'd rather not.'

  'That there's a link between the club and what happened to her?'

  'I don't want to think like that.'

  'Why should it be linked to the club?'

  'It's just what I think.'

  'It has nothing to do with the club,' Andy said. 'Why should it have? It's a coincidence.'

  'Yes,' she said, and in her mind's eye she saw that face. That smile.

  'Do you feel sorry for me?' Halders asked.

  'What sort of a question is that?' Djanali said. 'You're answering a question with another question.' 'It's hard to talk about things such as people needing pity.'

  'I don't need pity,' said Halders. 'Not like that. It's a catastrophe but it's twice as bad for the kids. Twenty times as bad. A thousand times.'

  'It affects all of you,' Djanali said.

  'It's worse for them.'

  They were sitting on the patio outside the house where Halders' children had always lived, and would continue to live if he had anything to do with it, and he intended making sure he did.

  Hannes and Magda were asleep. He'd just been with them. Hannes had mumbled something in his sleep. Then Magda had said something as well. It was as if the children were talking to each other.

  Djanali stood up.

  'Time I was off home.'

  He nodded.

  'Will you be all right?'

  He nodded again.

  'Are you sure?'

  'I'll be all right.' Halders looked up at the sky that was growing dark in the east. An aeroplane on its way into the distance winked down at them. 'Tomorrow is another day, and all that stuff.'

  'What are you going to do tomorrow?'

  'Talk to the girl's boyfriend. Jeanette's.'

  'Mattias. The one that was being awkward.'

  'Yes. I wonder why.'

  'Is it so odd? She wanted to finish with him.'

 

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