In Bad Company (Sandhamn Murders)

by Viveca Sten

Andreis could be back at any minute.

  CHAPTER 61

  Dino increased his speed and moved into the outside lane to overtake a blue Toyota with a smashed rear light. He would need to fill up with gas when they arrived. The gauge was getting close to the red zone, and he didn’t want to run out on the way back.

  He also needed the toilet, but clenched his buttocks in an effort to keep control.

  In the passenger seat, Andreis was staring at his cell phone; he was scrolling up and down, but Dino couldn’t see exactly what he was looking at. Instead he concentrated on driving, and hoped there wouldn’t be any more questions he’d need to answer with more lies.

  Andreis hadn’t commented on his “confession” since they left the house.

  Yesterday Dino had really believed it was all over as far as he was concerned. He was getting in deeper and deeper—somehow he had to find a way out of this situation.

  “Shit,” Andreis said suddenly, dropping his phone on his lap. “I left my cigarettes in the kitchen.” He refused to smoke anything but his own specially imported brand.

  “Do you want me to turn around?”

  They were twenty-five miles from Södertälje; there was no chance of covering the distance by twelve, but sometimes Andreis liked to keep people waiting—especially if he thought they needed to know exactly who was in charge.

  To make sure they behaved themselves.

  “Do we have time?”

  “That’s up to you.” Dino deliberately kept his tone neutral. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Andreis grin. He was the buyer; he didn’t need to kowtow to the guys they were meeting.

  “You’re absolutely right.”

  Today was purely an initial sounding out of possible suppliers recommended and screened by another contact. Andreis had become more cautious since he was released from custody—he didn’t embark on any new deals without extensive background checks.

  Of course, nothing that was said at the meeting would touch on the real business or be expressed in a way that could link Andreis to the final deal. Others would take over at that stage, those who physically handled the goods once terms had been agreed on. The organization consisted of many layers, with different people fulfilling different roles.

  In a corporate context, Andreis would be described as adept at exploiting the particular skill set of each member of his team.

  “I can turn off up ahead,” Dino said, pointing to the exit ramp for Nacka a few hundred yards away. “It won’t take more than twenty minutes to drive back to the house.”

  Andreis stuck his hand in his pocket where the cigarettes should have been. “OK,” he said. “But step on it.”

  CHAPTER 62

  Nora found it even more difficult to concentrate on the new case when Leila left. She was well aware that time was running out. She’d already postponed filing charges against Kovač so that she could include the assault on Mina, but there was a limit to how long she could wait. The prospect of Mina changing her mind was fading.

  Maybe it would be wiser to focus on the financial crimes? That was her area of expertise, after all. She had solid evidence against Kovač; perhaps she ought to take a step back and let the police worry about Mina. File the charges as she’d originally intended and leave the rest.

  She closed the folder. She was getting nowhere fast. She stood up, grabbed her purse and jacket, and left the office. She needed fresh air and the chance to clear her head. When she stepped out onto Hantverkargatan, the lunchtime rush had already begun in the nearby cafés and restaurants. She wasn’t hungry anyway and set off toward Kungsholm Square.

  Without really knowing how it had happened, she found herself sitting on the bus to the Southern District Hospital. She was going to take one last shot at persuading Stefan to testify against his son-in-law.

  Andreis Kovač was much too dangerous to be allowed to walk free. Thomas had said that Andreis would take it personally if Nora insisted on dragging Mina into the court proceedings, but Nora had taken his assault on his wife personally, too.

  It took less than twenty-five minutes to reach the hospital. She showed her ID at reception and learned that Katrin Talevski was still in intensive care on the fourth floor. She was in critical condition.

  Nora spotted Stefan as soon as she entered the unit. He had just emerged from a room opposite the door. Beyond him, Nora could see Katrin lying in bed. Various tubes were attached to her body, with a battery of machines bleeping and humming away.

  Stefan stopped dead when he recognized Nora. His face was gray and haggard. He didn’t look as if he’d had much sleep since they met at the house on Körsbärsvägen.

  Poor guy. First the worry about his daughter and grandson, and now his wife.

  “What are you doing here?” he exclaimed.

  “Can you spare a few minutes, Stefan?” Nora felt extremely uncomfortable. She shouldn’t have come here. She hadn’t spoken to Leila; she’d just taken off like some kind of private eye.

  Stefan glanced over his shoulder at Katrin. “What’s it about?”

  “I have a few questions about your son-in-law’s actions when he came to your house and threatened you and your wife.”

  “I have nothing to say. I made that clear yesterday.”

  “I promise it won’t take long.”

  How could he be so blind, with Katrin lying unconscious just yards away because of what Kovač had done?

  “Don’t you realize that things will only get worse if both you and Mina choose to keep quiet about what happened? If you choose to protect Andreis Kovač?” Before Stefan could interrupt, she went on: “A week ago, you tried to persuade Mina to testify against her husband, but she couldn’t find the courage. Now he’s attacked both you and your wife, and you’re doing exactly the same thing. How long are you going to allow him to terrorize your family?”

  Stefan blinked several times.

  “Help me to put him away. Burying your head in the sand isn’t going to improve the situation.” Nora took a step closer. “You’ll never be free of Kovač if you don’t help us now. We need both your and Mina’s cooperation to send him to jail for a long time.”

  “I need to talk to Mina first.”

  “You haven’t spoken to her?”

  Stefan shook his head and moved to the side. When he opened his mouth again, his gaze was so unfocused that Nora wondered if he even remembered why she was there. “I’ve been sitting here the whole time,” he said. “Katrin’s condition deteriorated during the night. I haven’t had the chance to call—”

  A loud beeping noise came from Katrin’s room. A nurse immediately appeared and hurried past them. The light above the door was flashing frenetically.

  “You need to leave,” Stefan said, following the nurse.

  CHAPTER 63

  Lukas’s room was decorated in soft shades of blue. Mina had put up the wallpaper herself; it was adorned with cute little ducks. His crib was against one wall, with the nursing chair beside it. A pure white fleece was draped over the back of the chair.

  Mina glanced around quickly. She’d spent far too long in the bedroom. Where had the time gone? She had to decide what to take with her, but her heart was racing, and she couldn’t think clearly. She’d developed a kind of tunnel vision; she could only look at one thing at a time, with no comprehension of how it connected with anything else. Time after time she picked up an item of clothing, then put it down again. She couldn’t decide what was most important. She felt as if every single object were essential.

  Her mind was a syrupy mess.

  She opened the top drawer in Lukas’s chest and rummaged through his clothes. She chose two snowsuits, a few warm tops, and two pairs of pants. She added Lukas’s favorite teddy bear and a couple of pacifiers. At the last minute she remembered to close the drawer—she didn’t want to leave any obvious traces of her presence.

  She ran into the bathroom but avoided looking in the mirror. She’d stood in this spot too often, covering up her bruises and flushi
ng a split lip with water. She didn’t need a reminder; that was provided by the painful stitches in her eyebrow. She filled her toiletry bag with makeup. She would have liked to take her electric toothbrush but didn’t dare. Its absence would be too obvious.

  She hurried into the hallway and grabbed her favorite jacket.

  Lukas was still fast asleep. Mina hesitated. Should she take his lovely new stroller, or leave it behind? The borrowed one was smaller and lower; it would be difficult to fit the blue bag underneath. But it was already twenty to twelve. She had to get out of here.

  Make up your mind.

  The other stroller was in the living room, exactly where it had been when Andreis got home that Monday. Her last evening in this house.

  Mina released the brake and pushed the stroller into the hallway. Gently she transferred Lukas and tucked him in. He whimpered and his eyelids flickered, but he didn’t wake up. She managed to stuff the blue bag underneath and placed her purse in the carrier.

  She hesitated again. Should she try to take both strollers or leave the borrowed one behind? She didn’t know which would attract the least attention, but in the end she put the stroller from the shelter in the spot where Lukas’s had stood. Hopefully Andreis wouldn’t notice the difference. If there was a problem as far as the shelter was concerned, she would pay for a new stroller. At least she had her own money now.

  She took out her keys, glanced around to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, and headed for the door.

  CHAPTER 64

  Ulrika Grönstedt leaned back in her office chair and contemplated her neat and tidy desk, where the photograph of Fiona took pride of place. The mahogany shone. She’d bought it at Svenskt Tenn, and it conveyed precisely the discreet elegance she wanted.

  Their clients might engage in shady activities, but the law practice was totally respectable.

  Kovač’s thick file was in front of her, with Nico’s memo on custody disputes and removing a child without permission right at the top. He was the associate who had looked into her idea of bringing Mina back by threatening to bring in social services.

  Ulrika had weighed the ethics of using a child to force an abused woman to return home, but had decided once more that Mina’s well-being wasn’t her problem. Herman Wibom could worry about his client.

  Nico hadn’t seemed particularly concerned about the moral issue. He was sharp—there was no doubt about that—and so far he’d gotten most things right. His latest suggestion was that the practice should set up an Instagram account. He had argued with great enthusiasm that they should be building up their image on social media.

  Nico was going to do well.

  Her cell phone rang. She considered not answering; she didn’t have time for a long conversation. She was due at Riche for a lunch meeting in ten minutes. Then her professional persona took over, and she accepted the call. If worst came to worst, she could continue talking as she walked to the restaurant.

  “Ulrika Grönstedt.”

  “Have you spoken to her?” As usual, Andreis Kovač didn’t bother introducing himself.

  “Are you talking about your wife?”

  “Is she coming home?”

  Ulrika put on her coat. “I haven’t spoken to her myself, but as I’ve already told you, I have spoken to Herman Wibom, her counsel. He was going to pass on our demands, exactly as we agreed.”

  “Will she obey?” There was no emotion in Kovač’s voice; he could just as easily have been talking about a dog.

  “I underlined the seriousness of removing a child against the will of the other parent,” she said, using the severe tone she normally saved for the courtroom.

  “She needs to come home right now.”

  “We gave them three days. I can’t change that after the fact.”

  “I want her back here by tomorrow,” Kovač snapped. “I’ve had enough of this crap.”

  Ulrika took a deep breath. “They haven’t responded yet,” she said, heading for the elevators. “We’ll have to wait until her legal counsel contacts me.”

  “Do your job and make sure she comes home.” He lowered his voice, but there was no mistaking the menace. “I won’t tell you again.”

  Bosnia, April 1993

  The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen. Blanka had gotten hold of some eggs and had baked a sponge cake. Both Selma and Andreis had had a big slice. It tasted divine.

  They didn’t have sweet treats in the house these days—or even bread. Selma used to make big round loaves, but recently the little flour she could get had been enough for no more than a small slice with each meal. She often let the children have her share. The shelves in the grocery store were virtually empty, and anything that was available to buy cost a fortune.

  “Go and play, sweetheart,” she said to Andreis when he’d finished his cake.

  He went over to the corner and lined up his toy cars. He had three—one red, one blue, and a black-and-white police car.

  Selma worried about him every single day.

  She tried to protect him as best she could, but what was growing up under these conditions doing to his young soul? He heard the quarrels between her and Zlatko, saw the bruises she did her best to hide. There was no avoiding the terrible news pumped out by the TV and radio day after day.

  Would he be marked forever by the terrible things that were going on all around them?

  The other day he’d gone crazy and hurled the police car to the floor, even though it was one of his most prized possessions. A wheel came off and was beyond repair. He was inconsolable but couldn’t explain what had made him do it.

  Blanka lit a cigarette. “How long are you intending to stay?”

  Selma wished she wouldn’t ask. She didn’t want to talk about it; the question was already going around in her head all the time.

  “We’re looking into every possible way to get out,” Blanka went on. “The Serbs have almost cleared eastern Bosnia now.”

  Selma ran her fingertips over the surface of the table. “There’s no talking to Zlatko—he won’t leave. He refuses to abandon our home and possessions.”

  “He’s always been stubborn.”

  “He keeps saying it will pass, the war will be over soon. We just have to be patient.”

  Blanka tapped the ash into her saucer. “What if he’s wrong, Selma?”

  Even Jasmina’s story hadn’t changed Zlatko’s mind. He didn’t want to listen.

  Tears scalded Selma’s eyes, but she tried not to cry when Andreis was around. He was already so nervous. Over the past few weeks he’d become increasingly restless; her sunny little boy had disappeared. He’d always had a lot of energy, but now there was nowhere for it to go. He should have been in school, but it was closed until further notice. No one knew when it would open again.

  She didn’t dare let him play outside—she panicked as soon as he was out of her sight. The bombings had stopped temporarily, but she was still anxious.

  “Don’t say that!” she snapped. “It will all sort itself out somehow. It has to.”

  Blanka was clearly taken aback by the sharpness of her tone, and Selma immediately regretted it. Blanka was her best friend; she meant well.

  “I’m sorry,” Selma said quickly. “I don’t know what to do. Zlatko’s determined to stay and defend what we have.”

  “You need to talk to him again.”

  “He just gets mad if I try to bring it up.”

  Blanka leaned forward and pushed up Selma’s sleeve, exposing an ugly bruise. Selma’s cheeks flushed deep red, and she pulled the fabric down again.

  “He’s not the same man I married,” she whispered.

  “War changes people. It brings out the worst in them.”

  Selma buried her face in her hands. “Zlatko can’t admit that he’s wrong,” she mumbled. “That we should have fled to Croatia as soon as the war broke out. Now it’s too late. We argue about it all the time.” She looked up and rubbed her forehead. “He’s hardly ever home. He spen
ds his time drinking with the other men, the few who are left. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know anything anymore.”

  Blanka finished her coffee. “He’s going to condemn his family to death if he doesn’t change his mind. Would you like me to ask Dario to talk to him?”

  Selma shook her head. Admittedly Blanka’s husband was Zlatko’s cousin, but he was considerably older and already retired. If Zlatko found out that she’d been moaning and dragged the family into their private affairs, it would only make things worse.

  Her stomach contracted at the thought of bringing up the subject of leaving with Zlatko yet again, but Blanka was right.

  “I’ll try and talk to him,” she said.

  CHAPTER 65

  The street was still deserted when Mina cautiously opened the front door and looked around. She slipped out quickly and carefully locked up behind her. Everything must be exactly the same as when she’d arrived. She didn’t want Andreis to suspect anything.

  She decided not to think about switching the strollers.

  With her heart in her mouth, she hurried down the drive and made for the bus stop, sweating as she pushed the heavy stroller in front of her. The exertion was hurting her ribs, but she felt stronger than she had for a long time. She’d done it! She’d found the courage to go home, in spite of her fear of Andreis. For once she’d stood up for herself.

  Mina laughed nervously at her own boldness.

  Lukas whimpered, but she couldn’t stop and pick him up yet. She would comfort him as soon as she was safely on the bus. It was due in ten minutes; her timing was perfect. Soon she would be back at the shelter with her own things.

  Please don’t wake up, she silently begged her son, increasing her speed as she rounded the corner. She could see the bus stop now.

  The last patches of snow were melting in the spring sunshine, and even though the old snow was ugly and brown around the edges, it gave her hope. The leaves on the trees would start to appear in a couple of weeks, and the first snowdrops were already out.