Of all the days, this one had to be her birthday.
Was that why she wasn’t picking up? Maybe she was out celebrating, treating herself to a spa session or whatever. As he skimmed the list of congratulations, an idea slowly took shape in his mind. When he spotted Hjalmar Bergfors’ Haaaaaapy Birthdaaaaay from Hörby, he decided to give it a go.
Gertrud was originally from Hörby too, so it didn’t seem too far-fetched to assume Hjalmar Bergfors was a childhood friend. He pulled the Nokia back out and started to compose a text message.
Hi Gertrud, since you’re not very active on Facebook, I thought I’d send you a big Haaaapy Birthdaaaaaay this way, too. Hope you have a great day. I haven’t seen you in a long time, but I happen to be on my way to Helsingborg for a meeting right now. Which leads me to ask: can I buy the birthday girl coffee later today? Love, Hjalmar Bergfors. P.S. If you don’t recognize the number, it’s because I lost my phone a few days ago.
With only ten keys and a maximum limit of 160 characters, it took four texts and a considerable amount of time and focus to type up and send the whole message. Consequently, he was completely caught off guard by a hard tap on his window and only just had time to look up before his door was thrown open.
‘Hello!’ Sonja smiled and waved. ‘We’re here.’
‘Hi there.’ He made sure the last text had sent, climbed out of the car and turned to Theodor, who’d had his hair cut and was dressed in a freshly ironed white shirt, a blue blazer and a pair of khaki chinos. ‘Don’t you look fancy!’ He moved to hug him, but Theodor evaded him and started walking around the car to the other side.
‘Maybe you should get going, you don’t want to be late.’
Fabian nodded and gave Sonja a hug. ‘See you soon.’
‘Good luck.’ She kissed him on the mouth and walked over to the other side of the car, where Theodor was buckling his seat belt. ‘Hey, you. Don’t I get a hug?’
Theodor said nothing, just stared straight ahead.
‘All right, fine. I’ll try again when you get back tonight. Just so you know, I’m making lasagne. That’ll be nice, won’t it?’ She waited for a reaction but got none. ‘Oh, right, and if you want something special for dessert, just say the word.’
‘Sonja.’ Fabian caught her eye across the roof of the car. ‘I think we should just get this over with.’
Sonja nodded and stepped aside so Theodor could close his door.
‘Hey, it’s going to be fine, you’ll see.’ Fabian buckled his seat belt and turned the key in the ignition. ‘And don’t worry, I’m going to be with you the whole time.’
Theodor responded with silence while Fabian put the car in gear, indicated and watched Sonja dry her tears in the rear-view mirror as he left Kungstorget behind and continued down Järnvägsgatan.
11
FABIAN KILLED THE engine and studied the building in front of them, which looked like a secret research laboratory with its series of low, connected, orange sandstone buildings, shiny metal roofs and seemingly random scattering of tiny windows.
Theodor was sitting next to him, his eyes vacant. The journey had felt like a silent film. He’d been on the verge of speaking several times, but had stopped himself, convinced his son had enough on his plate dealing with his own thoughts.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked at length.
‘I’m not sure,’ Theodor replied, without looking up. ‘How am I supposed to feel?’
What could he say to that, when his own feelings were all over the place? He was proud and relieved his son had finally made the difficult but correct decision to tell the truth. But he had been the one pushing for it. He was the one who had laid down the law and with simple, irrefutable arguments persuaded both Sonja and Theodor. And now that they were here, his conviction was suddenly undermined by a nagging worry.
Had he pushed too hard?
‘I think the important thing is that this is what you want to do. That you feel it’s the right thing for you.’
‘I do. My mind’s made up.’
That was exactly what he’d said back home. That he wanted to start over by going to Denmark and telling them exactly what had happened. And Fabian wanted nothing more than to believe him. That the decision had really been his, that it wasn’t just the only way he could see to make the nagging stop.
‘But if you’ve changed your mind, this is the time to—’
‘Let’s go already.’ Theodor cut him off and was already out of the car and on his way to the entrance fifty yards or so away before Fabian had even unbuckled.
The Danish prosecutor was waiting for them at the reception desk.
‘Hi, Peter Lange.’ He held out his hand. ‘And you must be Fabian and Theodor Risk.’
They nodded and shook the prosecutor’s hand.
‘My mother was Swedish, so I speak and understand Swedish almost fluently. And I love crispbread and Lucia saffron buns. There’s nothing better,’ he went on with a chuckle. ‘Theodor, if you wouldn’t mind filling out your name, address and personal identification number on this form. Right, and do you have a passport or some other kind of photo ID?’
Fabian handed over his passport while Theodor completed the form and signed it.
‘Great. Then please follow me.’ Peter Lange swiped his ID, held the door open and showed them into a long hallway with windows along one side and closed doors along the other.
A hundred feet further on, the hallway made a ninety-degree turn and continued as far again before Lange finally stopped and opened the door to an office, where a desk faced two armchairs on either side of a small table set with bottles of sparkling water and two glasses.
‘Please, have a seat.’ Lange closed the door and sat down behind the desk. ‘I want to begin by saying how happy I am you’ve chosen to come forward to tell us what you know. It’s unusual for witnesses to turn up out of nowhere in the middle of court proceedings.’
‘From what I hear, you haven’t had many witnesses of any description,’ Fabian said.
‘That’s correct, and that’s one of the reasons we’ve been having such a difficult time. None of the plaintiffs are alive to give testimony. And the defendants are blaming each other while also swearing they have no idea who did what.’
‘We’ve encountered the same strategy in Sweden in a number of gang rape cases, and in those, all the defendants got off because their guilt couldn’t be proven beyond reasonable doubt.’
‘Exactly. If I want to have even a small chance of getting all of them convicted, I need to be able to show that there was shared intent. And how can I do that when no one’s confessing and there are no witnesses?’ Peter Lange threw up his hands. ‘That’s why I’m so happy you’re here, Theodor. With the help of your testimony, I’m hoping we’ll be able to break down their pact and figure out who did what. But let’s start at the beginning. Why don’t you tell me what happened, in your own words?’
Theodor swallowed and nodded, and then he tremblingly picked up one of the two bottles, filled his glass and downed it in one.
‘This isn’t a police interview, just a regular conversation, so there’s no pressure, just take your time.’
Theodor nodded again, poured himself another glass and drank it. ‘She went to my school. Alexandra, I mean. I’d been in love with her for a while but hadn’t dared to talk to her.’
‘Sure, that can be scary. I was very shy myself at your age.’
‘Anyway, some people were being mean to her and took her baseball cap, so… so I got angry and helped her get it back and, well…’ Theodor shrugged. ‘After a while, we started dating.’
‘Nice work.’
‘That was when I first met her friends. They all belonged to the same martial arts club as her. Henrik was one of them. I don’t remember the names of the other two.’
‘Why not?’
Theodor shrugged.
‘I didn’t like them and didn’t want to hang out with them. But Alexandra did, and one morning after we’d
been over to Denmark, I found a video on her phone.’ He reached for the bottle to pour himself more water, but it was empty.
‘Here, take mine.’ Fabian topped up his glass from his bottle and handed it to Theodor, who again downed it before continuing.
‘It was the one from the motorway when they pushed that man in the trolley into traffic. We were at her house and I just wanted to get out of there, leave both her and her sick fucking mates. It turned out Alexandra didn’t want to keep doing it either. She’d never wanted to be part of it. At first, she hadn’t realized what they’d asked her to film, and afterwards it was too late. That Henrik bloke had just kept forcing her.’
‘So you’re telling me Henrik is the brains of the operation.’
Theodor nodded. ‘He calls the shots. Anyway, Alexandra and I destroyed the phone with the video on it and called him up and told him she was out. That she didn’t want to be part of it any more. But he refused and said she was in until he said otherwise. Then he said something about there being a witness, the sister of one of the victims.’
‘Sannie Lemke?’
‘Yeah, that’s it, so he forced us to do it one last time. I didn’t want to, but—’
‘Hold on.’ Lange straightened up in his chair. ‘Are you telling me you were present when Sannie Lemke was murdered?’
Theodor swallowed hard and nodded. ‘But I didn’t do anything. The only thing I did was to—’
‘But you were there as one of them, wearing a smiley mask?’
‘Yes, but all I did was stand watch.’
Peter Lange had already got out his phone and pressed speed dial. ‘Thanks. Yes, as quickly as you can.’
‘Dad, what’s going on?’
‘Just stay calm.’ Fabian took Theodor’s hand. ‘What my son is trying to say is that he was at the scene but that he played no active part in what took place.’
‘That’s exactly what the other four are claiming, too. If they are all to be believed, Sannie Lemke forced the firecracker down her own throat and lit the fuse.’
The door was opened by two security officers, who entered and moved in on Theodor.
‘Dad, what the fuck?’
‘Hey now, hold on.’ Fabian got to his feet. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Do something! You have to do something!’
‘This has to be a misunderstanding. You’re not arresting him, are you?’
‘I’m sorry, but I wasn’t aware your son had participated as one of them. That makes him guilty of—’
‘Guilty? He was bloody forced to come along as a lookout.’
‘That’s called being an accessory and it makes him just as much of a suspect as the other four. We’re going to have to conduct a full investigation with thorough interviews, during which he obviously has the right to legal representation. Until that can be arranged, we have no choice but to remand him in custody.’
‘Dad, you have to stop them!’ screamed Theodor, who was now being ushered out of the room by the two officers.
‘For God’s sake, he’s sixteen years old!’ Fabian looked from the prosecutor to the two police officers and back again. ‘This is completely unacceptable! My son came here voluntarily to give testimony. To help you. And you arrest him like he’s some kind of monster.’
‘I’m terribly sorry, but—’
‘Sorry?’
‘Dad!’
‘Hey, look, can you just hold on a minute?’ Fabian hurried over and grabbed Theodor, forcing the officers to stop halfway out of the door. ‘You can’t bloody drag him off just like that!’
‘Normally, he would have been fine to reside at home, under surveillance, and only come in for interviews, but given the seriousness of the crime we can’t let him leave the country,’ Lange said. ‘You’re a police officer, you know how this works.’
‘I do, and I demand that we straighten this out before you do anything at all.’
‘Straightening it out is exactly what we’ll be doing, and as soon as we’ve made sure there’s no risk of him reoffending, impeding the investigation or absconding, he will be allowed to return home to await the resumption of the trial. Which will hopefully happen as soon as tomorrow.’ Lange nodded to the security officers, who forced Fabian to back away from Theodor and continued out into the hallway.
Fabian was about to object again but realized all he could do was watch as the two guards dragged his son away. He wanted to call out after him, to show his support or say anything that might give him a measure of strength, but before he could open his mouth, they’d turned a corner and were gone.
12
ON THE SECOND floor of Kärngränden 4 in central Helsingborg, a light switch was glowing red, trying to attract attention. But he’d left the lights off. His eyes needed to adapt. Ten minutes later, he stepped into the flat and quietly shut the door behind him.
It was the same flat and yet completely different. Then, when he’d been here to find out who lived on the other side of the window on the far left, it had been tidy, everything in its place. Now, it was showing clear signs of neglect.
That their perfect middle-class existence had been seriously rocked by Assar Skanås’s treatment of their daughter was in one way understandable. But that they’d taken it so hard they couldn’t even be bothered to do dishes and pick up after themselves any more seemed fairly over the top. It was as though they were so busy feeling bad and sorry for themselves, they had no time for anything else.
He stopped outside the door to the parents’ bedroom. Last time, it had stood ajar. Now, it was closed. To make sure there’d be no squeaking or sticking, he pulled out the can of lock dry lube and attached it to the red three-inch nozzle, which he inserted into the keyhole. He gave the lock and the hinges a few squirts each.
The door opened without a sound and he entered and looked around. After seeing the hallway and parts of the kitchen, he wasn’t surprised to find the floor littered with clothes and both nightstands covered with Kleenex, water glasses and open boxes of Zolpidem and Imovane, which reassured him they were fast asleep.
Maybe the fact that they lay facing away from each other at the very edges of the mattress wasn’t entirely surprising either. It wouldn’t be the first time a relationship had foundered after a child was hurt. What was more remarkable was that the little girl in question wasn’t lying between them in bed. That, if anything, would have been expected.
Goddammit. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, and now he was standing there with no clue as to what to do next. What if she wasn’t there? Then what would he do? What if they’d shipped her off to her grandparents because they didn’t feel capable of caring for her? What the fuck would he do then?
He went back into the hallway and past the door where wooden letters formed the name Ruben and stopped outside the door on the far left, where the wooden letters spelled out Ester between a number of taped-up drawings of flowers, hearts and, if he had to guess, princesses.
He gave the lock and hinges a once-over with the lock dry lube before opening the door and stepping into the room. To his great relief, she was in her bed, and just like the last time he was here, she was curled up in foetal position with her thumb in her mouth, surrounded by an army of teddy bears.
After closing the door behind him, he moved over to the edge of the bed, where he squatted down and started to empty his backpack. He set the two plastic bottles of water and the bowl to one side. He pulled a rag soaked in paint thinner from a plastic bag and held it close enough to her face to make her breathe in the fumes.
He waited like that for a few minutes before judging that she was sufficiently passed out, then gently pulled her thumb out and covered her mouth and nose with the rag. There was no reaction, not the slightest twitch or attempt at resistance as she drifted further and further into the haze of unconsciousness.
He was probably doing her a favour. Not that he cared. Not in the slightest, actually. The only thing that mattered was that the task set by the dice was carried ou
t to the letter. That little Ester didn’t have to wake up and realize her hours with Assar the Paedo hadn’t been a nightmare was something more akin to a happy side effect. Judging from her parents’ bedroom, she would probably have grown up in a broken home with no clear boundaries and ended up a junkie ready to do anything for another hit.
He unscrewed the bottle caps and emptied the water into the bowl until it was about two inches from the top. He flipped the unconscious girl over on her stomach and turned her until her head was dangling off the side of the bed. Then he picked up the bowl, slowly raised it up to her face and held it there.
There was no reaction to that, either.
Not a sound. No resistance. Nothing but a few bubbles.
13
FABIAN HAD LONG since lost count of how many attempts it had taken him to squeeze his car into the free parking spot across the street from his house on Pålsjögatan. Granted, it was still crooked and one of the back tyres was on the pavement, but it would have to do.
He crossed the street and realized his sense of balance had abandoned him. But at least he didn’t fall over, and he found the right key almost immediately.
He’d never driven drunk before. On occasion he might have got behind the wheel after a glass or two, enough to register on a breathalyser if he’d been pulled over. But he’d never driven as drunk as he was now.
But then, the trip to Denmark had been a disaster. Instead of going home with Theodor to support and prep him for taking the witness stand, he had, after several hours of trying to persuade the Danish prosecutor to change his mind, been forced to go back across the sound alone. He’d been unbelievably naive. He’d tricked himself and his family into thinking everything would be okay. If they just did the right thing, everything would turn out right in the end. As though that were a natural law, universal justice.
Nothing could have been more wrong.
He had called Sonja to tell her on the ferry back. She’d taken the news surprisingly calmly, her thoughts seemingly elsewhere. He’d asked what was on her mind, but she’d simply told him to take all the time he needed.
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