Liv

by Mikaela Bley

  ‘We saw you in the water,’ he said, pulling Didrik’s towel away from him. ‘Do it again. Fuck now. We want to watch you fuck.’

  He pointed with his pistol at the ground. ‘Didn’t you hear me? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!’ All the children chimed in. ‘What don’t you understand? If you don’t do what I tell you, I’m going to shoot.’ He looked slowly around, then went up to one of the younger kids and aimed the pistol at her head. It was Alice.

  ‘Stop!’ Ellen screamed. ‘What the fuck is this?’

  Alice started to cry and fell down on her knees. The boy pressed the pistol against her head.

  ‘Now then, come on!’ he said, waving to some of the other kids, who pushed Didrik towards Ellen.

  ‘How can you do this to each other? Next time, maybe he’ll put the pistol to your head,’ she tried in a desperate attempt to put an end to the whole thing. ‘How can you let this happen? That’s your little sister.’ She stared at Bea, and then at Karl, but got no response.

  Didrik took her hand and squeezed it hard.

  They all laughed, except Alice, who was terrified for her life. Ellen saw her pants turn a darker shade. She covered her chest and swallowed hard.

  ‘Take her from behind,’ someone called.

  Ellen closed her eyes when she was forced to get down on her knees, and she cried when Didrik penetrated her. How was he even hard? Was he turned on by this?

  ‘Stop, for fuck’s sake!’ Bea yelled. ‘I don’t want to see any more, it’s disgusting.’ She dragged her keys along the cars, and the children screamed hysterically again, as if they were inciting each other.

  Ellen staggered to her feet and covered herself with the towel.

  ‘Ellen!’ Didrik shouted.

  She turned around and met Bea’s eyes.

  ‘Didn’t I tell you to keep your mouth shut?’

  Ellen barely had time to see her heavily made-up eyes and the black streaks of mascara before the blow to her nose came.

  ALEXANDRA

  5.00 P.M.

  Alexandra stared down at the kitchen table and focused on some transparent stain that had dried onto the shiny surface. She tried to avoid meeting the police officers’ eyes on the other side of the table. Right after they’d picked up Patrik, they’d called and asked if they could come by and ask a few questions.

  ‘We’re going to record this conversation. You’re not suspected of anything, we’re just trying to form a picture of what happened to Liv Lind, and this is a witness statement, given that your husband and Liv Lind had a relationship. What is your occupation?’

  It was the police officer named Börje Swahn who asked the first question. He had introduced himself as preliminary investigation leader, and Alexandra didn’t like the way he looked at her as he leant forward over the table. The top button on his shirt was undone, and she glimpsed a dense mat of hair on his chest.

  ‘I’m a housewife. I take care of my family.’ She said it with pride.

  ‘Where are you from?’ asked the other police officer, who had thick, ash-blonde hair hanging over one ear.

  ‘Karlstad.’

  ‘I’m wondering about your accent.’

  ‘I don’t understand how that can be relevant, but Poland.’ She felt her cheeks getting hot, and her throat got warm. Would they offer her an interpreter now, even though she spoke fluent Swedish?

  ‘Do you have a car?’ They took every other question.

  ‘Yes, that is, we have a car.’

  ‘What kind of car?’

  ‘A black SUV, a Volvo. It’s parked out there.’ They made notes on a pad and asked for the licence plate number. Alexandra felt stressed.

  ‘What were you doing on Sunday the seventeenth of August?’

  She picked at the embroidered table runner with her fingers and didn’t know what to say. ‘I was at home, as usual.’

  ‘Did you use the car that evening?’

  Alexandra started. ‘No. What do you mean?’

  ‘Nothing. Can you tell me a bit about that day?’

  She was still staring down at the table and trying to remember, and at the same time wondering what she could say. ‘It was a hot day, extremely hot. I looked after the children, and then I watered the garden. I had lunch with my mother-in-law, who is here on a visit from Värmland.’

  ‘Do you remember what you had for lunch?’

  Both of the policemen were staring at her, and she didn’t know whose eyes to meet. Their staring made her feel nervous. As if they were analysing every movement she made — especially Börje. It was impossible to avoid noticing how he was almost undressing her with his eyes.

  She adjusted her silk blouse. ‘Well, I made a salad with feta cheese and greens. We had lemon water with it and coffee afterwards. I took a picture of it.’ She got up to get her phone. ‘I’ll show you. I have an Instagram account where I post things that make you feel good.’ As if she was trying to normalise the situation. ‘I only follow gardens,’ she added. Alexandra swiped through to the lunch. She showed the screen to the police, who made a note.

  ‘That looks good.’

  Carefully, she put the phone down on the table and stared at the lock screen, which was a photo of the family. ‘This is my family. It’s from the last day of the school year. Märtha got a certificate because she was such a good student.’ They barely looked at the picture, and she turned the phone over.

  Should she offer them coffee? She really just wanted it to be over so that they could leave, and she could go and take a long shower.

  Patrik still hadn’t come back from his interview. She tried not to think about it, but could they actually have arrested him? She couldn’t bring herself to ask. Maybe they would suspect something. Or maybe they would suspect something if she didn’t ask. She didn’t know how to act.

  ‘Did anything special happen that day?’

  ‘No, not as far as I can remember.’

  ‘Can you tell us about it?’

  She thought briefly. ‘Patrik went to work a little earlier that day, and he took my mother-in-law with him. They were going to have dinner together in Stockholm before he went on call.’ She made an effort not to speak with a Polish accent and left Liv out of the story.

  ‘What time did they leave?’

  ‘I don’t remember exactly, but sometime between four and five, I think.’

  ‘Did you speak with Patrik that evening?’

  ‘Yes, he called about eleven and said that he would try to sleep a little. You never know whether you’re going to have to be up all night when you’re on call.’

  ‘Did you know Liv Lind?’ They placed a picture on the table.

  ‘No, or … yes.’ Alexandra only glanced at the photo, but managed to see enough of Liv’s happy face and long blonde hair to feel both angry and sad at the same time. She nodded and lowered her eyes. ‘It’s awful that she’s dead,’ she added, hoping it sounded genuine.

  ‘Can you tell us about your relationship?’

  ‘We had no relationship. It was my husband who had a relationship with her.’ What did this policeman really think about her?

  ‘But the two of you had met?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘When did you meet for the first time?’

  ‘Last Friday.’

  ‘Tell us about it.’

  What should she say? ‘She was here for dinner — as a friend, you might say.’ Alexandra felt stressed: how much should she tell them? Why hadn’t they discussed it?

  ‘And how was she introduced? As your husband’s new girlfriend? Was he going to leave you?’

  Alexandra didn’t reply.

  ‘We already know that you were living polyamorously, so you can tell us about it.’ It was that hideous Börje, and unfortunately, she could clearly picture the kind of images that were probably running through in his
head. She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes were glistening.

  ‘I understand that it might sound strange, but we have chosen to live like this.’ She adjusted her skirt, and then pressed her hands together so hard that the veins turned blue.

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Well, yes, my husband has other relationships, but that’s not illegal. He is only married to me. I am his wife.’ They had no right to judge her. She felt slightly nauseated. ‘The nuclear family lives here, and then …’ She saw the way the policemen were squirming. It felt as if the walls were cracking and the plaster flaking.

  ‘Did you know Liv from before?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Can you tell us about last Friday?’

  ‘I don’t know what to tell you. We had lamb and baked potatoes. Patrik had warned us a few days ahead of time that he had something to tell us.’

  ‘But you didn’t know what?’

  ‘No. He just came home with her.’ She cast a glance at the photo of Liv that was on the table.

  ‘How did that feel?’

  ‘Good. It was nice to meet her. She was pregnant, and the kids were happy that they were getting a sibling.’

  ‘Was everyone as happy?’

  ‘Yes. Very happy. A new life is always amazing.’

  The policemen mumbled something to each other; it was obvious that she hadn’t succeeded in sounding convincing enough.

  ‘You have two daughters?’

  ‘Yes, correct.’ They went over names and ages.

  ‘But your husband has more children?’

  ‘Yes, Karl and Alice.’

  ‘Who Hanna Andersson is the mother of. And so now there was another child on the way. That must be difficult. Don’t you get jealous?’

  ‘No, why should I be? Patrik loves me. I’ve never doubted that.’

  ‘That is clear, but even so?’

  ‘No.’ She fixed her eyes first on the one and then the other cop. ‘What are you trying to insinuate?’

  ‘We’re just asking the questions we have to ask. How do you divide up the time with your husband?’

  ‘I don’t understand how that is relevant.’

  ‘Just answer the questions, please.’

  Alexandra snorted. ‘We have every other week, more or less. We have Friday dinner together as a whole family, just like any other family. You don’t need to judge us.’ She couldn’t hold back.

  ‘We’re not, believe me. We hear and see a lot in our occupation. You have the right to live exactly how you want to, and if you’re happy with this arrangement, we’re nothing but happy for you. Right?’ Börje Swahn turned to his colleague.

  ‘Yes, absolutely. As long as you don’t get married. Why didn’t you contact the police when you found out that Liv was dead? You’ve withheld information from us and made our work more difficult. You do know that’s illegal?’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t think we could be of any help. I just met her the one time, and I didn’t understand that you would want me to contact you.’

  ‘I don’t know if you understand, but this is serious. A woman has been murdered. A pregnant woman besides, who was expecting your husband’s child. You definitely ought to have contacted us.’

  Alexandra nodded and had a hard time holding back the tears.

  ‘Tell us more about that day. What did you do when Patrik went to work?’

  ‘I picked up Märtha from a friend’s house. We had dinner.’

  ‘What did you have?’

  ‘Meatloaf and potatoes, I think it was.’

  ‘When did Patrik come home again?’

  ‘The next day.’

  ‘How was he then?’

  ‘Jumpy, certainly. We all were.’

  ‘Where was Beatrice?’

  ‘Why are you asking me that? She was here at home, with me. Did her homework while I cleared up after dinner, and Märtha was running through the sprinkler. Then they showered, and I put my youngest to bed at eight. Bea was probably up a bit longer, she was mostly in her room.’

  Did they know that Bea wasn’t at home that evening?

  ‘Was she at home all evening?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘When did your mother-in-law return?’

  ‘At ten, eleven, or something like that. I don’t really remember. Just that it was rather late.’

  ‘Did you see that Liv dropped her off?’

  She hesitated briefly before she answered. ‘No, but I assumed that she had driven her because that had been decided earlier. Then Liv stopped by Hanna’s to pick up some things for her baby.’ Alexandra placed her hand on her stomach without thinking about it.

  ‘What is your relationship with your husband like?’

  ‘Good. We’re very much in love and happy.’

  ‘How is your sex life?’

  ‘Pardon me?’

  They looked at her, expecting an answer. What was next? Were they going to frisk her and then undress her?

  ‘Good, normal, I think.’ She tried to make her voice sound calm and avoided Börje’s eyes.

  ‘Does Patrik have any unusual sexual preferences, besides the fact that he has several partners?’

  ‘That has nothing to do with sex, I wish you would read up a little. He’s completely normal. As am I!’

  ‘Take it easy, these are routine questions. There’s no need to take offence. What is your relationship like with your husband’s girlfriends, if I may call them that?’

  She shrugged. ‘Hanna and I are like sisters-in-law, you might say. We don’t have a very close relationship, but we meet fairly often — but then it’s mostly about the kids.’

  Alexandra tried to see what kind of notes he was taking, but the policeman hid them well with his arm.

  ‘What has Patrik’s mood been like this past week?’

  They were so factual and gave no sign of any empathy. She couldn’t read them. What kind of image were they forming of all this? She rubbed at her mascara and tried to smile.

  ‘Good, though he has been sad of course. All of us have been. A family member was murdered. It’s like a threat against our whole family.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Maybe it was done by someone who doesn’t like how we live. I don’t know.’ She wished they could end the conversation now; she was afraid that Bea would come home and that they would want to question her, too.

  ‘Has he been working as usual?’

  ‘Yes — you have to, of course.’

  Börje leant forward and rested his elbows on the table. ‘We’ve found that your husband wasn’t working on call that night. Do you know where he might have been, and why he would have lied to you?’

  Alexandra’s body turned cold. ‘I’m sorry? I don’t know if I understood.’ She shook her head.

  They repeated the question, but she still didn’t understand. Then where had Patrik been? So, he had lied to her, again. How could he subject her to this? She tried not to let her face show what she was feeling. ‘I don’t know.’

  She clenched her hands hard under the table and had to hold onto her legs to stop them from shaking.

  ELLEN

  5.50 P.M.

  Didrik drove, submerged in his own thoughts, and seeming seriously affected by what had happened. He probably couldn’t bear to ask her how she was feeling again. Either because he knew that she wouldn’t answer, or because he was afraid that she’d start screaming.

  She pulled down the sun visor and looked at herself in the mirror. Her nose was completely red and swollen, and the nosebleed wouldn’t let up. She tucked the linen napkin under her nose again.

  ‘Are you sure we shouldn’t get that checked out?’

  She didn’t reply. It was just a nosebleed, nothing serious. She had no desire to sit in the emergency room to get that
confirmed.

  When they parked outside the police station in Nyköping, she told him to stay in the car. ‘It’ll be quick, I’m just going to file a report.’

  ‘I’m coming,’ he said, and was already getting out of the car. ‘I intend to file a report, too.’

  With a sigh, Ellen opened the car door, holding the napkin under her nose. The blood had dripped onto her white tank top, and she felt a little dizzy, but that wasn’t something she intended to tell Didrik. Her private parts were tender too, and that was definitely not something he was going to find out about.

  The gang had run off from the beach after Ellen got punched in the face, but Didrik and Ellen had stayed on the ground for some time before they dared get up. Then, they took Ellen’s car — she didn’t want anyone at the farm to see that she’d been at the gravel pit, and she felt much too shaky to drive herself. Considering the alcohol, though, neither of them had been in a condition to drive.

  Ellen actually didn’t want to file a police report. Sure, she wanted to get those little bastards arrested, but that would also mean that she’d aggravate them even more. And she was so horribly ashamed. The whole thing was so degrading. And it didn’t look good, either, that Didrik had had a pistol. And they’d smoked, and …

  ‘Fuck, do you think I have to report a rape, too?’

  Didrik stopped. ‘How can you say that? What else should we have done, do you think?’

  ‘We?’ She snorted. ‘You know what? Not a word to anyone about what happened. Do you hear me?’

  ‘But …’

  ‘Not a word. Right, we’re doing this my way.’

  They went up to the woman at reception, who looked up from her computer screen when they knocked on the glass window. She was in uniform and had a friendly smile as she opened the window. ‘How can I help you?’

  Ellen asked to speak with Börje Swahn. ‘It concerns the murder of Liv Lind,’ she said, ignoring Didrik’s perplexed look.

  ‘Can I please see your IDs, thank you.’

  They showed their driver’s licences, and as soon as Didrik opened his mouth, she glared at him. ‘My way!’