In the Name of Love

by Smith, Patrick

  The leak was worse than he had thought. The water that had been taken in already reached his ankles. He laid up the oars again and used the bailer as fast as he could before the boat drifted off course. The wind was beginning to sound like a banshee calling under the storm-darkened sky.

  The pain in his arm muscles went deeper with each stroke. Again and again he feathered the oars and lifted his feet free of the water. The bases of both his thumbs stung and when he looked at them in the pale light he saw that the skin was red and tender. Soon it would come off. He took his socks from his pockets and put them over his hands, first doubling, then tripling them.

  The pain soon got worse when he rowed but he didn’t fight it now. All of the wood grating floated freely over the floor. He bailed out again. The air was growing sharply colder and the sky was altogether covered with black cloud. Each time he grasped the oars he felt the blisters that had come up on his palms beneath the socks. The boat began to roll a little with the waves. When he twisted his head to check where he was, he saw that the curtain of rain already fell on the island he was heading towards.

  He stopped again when his back muscles seized up. The boat kept drifting with the breeze and time after time he had to right it. He felt a sharp pain in his hands and he knew the blisters had burst. He wasn’t yet halfway there and even blacker clouds were approaching fast from the open Baltic. When he turned his head to take his bearings he could see the rain strike the surface of the sea ahead. He rowed again until his right hand slipped suddenly on the oar and he realized that the blood had soaked through the three layers of sock.

  He rested a moment and tried to think as clearly as possible. His clothes were wet to the skin but turning back was impossible. He’d have to grip the oars tighter so that his bloody hands didn’t slip so much.

  The breeze had grown to a squally wind and the sea chopped and slapped against the sides of the boat. Although blood kept coming through and dripping from the oars he didn’t feel anything in his hands any more. Metre by metre he pulled the heavy boat forward, taking longer pauses until the cramp in his back loosened enough for him to be able to start again.

  When he was three-quarters of the way across he laid in the oars and rested, letting the boat drift. His eyes had begun to water from the cold wind. He used his sleeve to wipe them dry. He was sweating freely from his face but his cramped back felt frozen. He started to row again.

  By the time he came close to Svartholm his rowing was markedly slower. After each stroke he had to feather the oars and rest. The rain was growing heavier now and the black clouds had soaked most of the day’s light. In a final effort he took five then six then seven strokes and collapsed forward as he felt the flat bottom of the boat rasp over mud.

  Once he had tied the front rope to a bush he stood still a long while, letting the rain run down his face and his bare hands, cooling the skin. Nothing showed beyond the dark silhouettes of the trees.

  He squeezed the blood out of the socks and put them on. His feet were numb with cold. When he had fumbled his boots on he straightened up and listened as the rain eased. The sound of it was moving towards Blidö. He started to walk. After ten minutes or so the last of the rain was gone. He stood still again to listen. In the silence that followed he heard nothing but the whisper of his own breath. Then gradually, in front, he sensed another sort of breathing, huge, cold, omnivorous, as though the darkness of the forest itself was waiting.

  He was deep into the trees now, where the undergrowth was thick and the light poor. The muffled sea sounds grew fainter behind him. He heard the snap of every broken twig and the rustle of last year’s leaves beneath his boots. Then he was into a thicket of brambles that he couldn’t see properly in the poor light. Doggedly he pushed his way through, using his torn hands to grasp and pull aside the thorny branches. Pausing he caught the tangy smell of smoke. He went towards it. Within minutes he saw a pale glow among the trees. He stopped when he saw the outline of a window. The light behind it was weak and some sort of makeshift curtain hung inside the glass. He put his face up close and, at the side of the piece of cloth, saw that the weak light came from a battery-driven lantern knocked over on the floor.

  He walked round to the front. A burst of wind came into the forest and rushed past his ears. While it was still making noise he pushed hard. The door gave at once. Inside there came a brief scuttle, as though a small bird was trying to get out. Then he realized that it must have been rats or field mice racing to escape. He picked up the lantern and in its weak light regarded the two narrow bunk beds, the wooden table, the two chairs. A body lay on the floor at the far side of the table.

  The face wasn’t visible but the body looked peaceful and still, like someone deep in sleep. He went around and bent down with the lantern and saw Lena’s face badly discoloured. One side was black with what was clearly blood. Blood matted her hair to the wooden floor.

  He put his hand to her forehead. The skin was cold. He felt for the pulse in her throat but found nothing.

  He stood up and tried to decide what to do. To leave her body lying here seemed heartless. But it was clear that the leaking boat would not take both their weights.

  He bent over her again and saw the bloody stains his fingers had left on her forehead and on the shoulder of her blouse. On his knees he kissed her cheek. Then he got up and walked out and down towards the sea.

  19

  Interrogation of Gabriel Rabban

  Date: Friday, 23 October 1987

  Interrogating officer: Chief Inspector Leif Nordland

  Also present: Inspector Isabella Gutiérrez as witness

  Type of interrogation: In person; audio-recorded

  Type of protocol: Verbatim transcript

  Abbreviations: GR, Gabriel Rabban. LN, Leif Nordland

  LN: The tape is now running and everything said will be transcribed. The time is 09.45 on Friday, 23 October 1987. According to the first interrogation carried out with you on Wednesday, 14 October 1987, you stated that it was Lena Sundman who suggested you take the boat to Svartholm.

  GR: Yes.

  LN: And that in the hut on Svartholm you threatened her.

  GR: I told her if there was any trickery she’d regret it.

  LN: You would kill her first, you said, and then yourself.

  GR: That’s correct.

  LN: Yet you say you didn’t really intend to harm her.

  GR: I don’t think so.

  LN: You don’t think so.

  GR: I’m trying to be honest with myself. I don’t know if I would have been able to hurt her. I loved her very much once. But I thought what she was doing now was evil. I said that I’d kill her and then myself, I said it to frighten her. I wanted her to think killing her wouldn’t bother me but I couldn’t have done it.

  LN: Didn’t you think it strange when she suggested going to the island at close to one o’clock in the morning? In a thick fog?

  GR: We heard the dog bark outside the barn. Someone was coming. She said we had to go fast. If my grandaunt came the deal was off.

  LN: Let me read what you said in the previous interrogation. ‘The outboard is strong, at full speed it only takes twelve minutes or so. I paddled out until we were clear of the rocks and then I opened the throttle full. It’s only a matter of holding the tiller straight. When the prow hits the mud on the other side you know you’re in the cove. Anyway visibility was limited but it wasn’t zero.’ You remember saying that?

  GR: Yes.

  LN: So you could see enough to drive at full speed across the sound?

  GR: I already knew what was there. I just had to hold the tiller steady.

  LN: Nevertheless you couldn’t see the name of the boat that you say you encountered on the way back?

  GR: No.

  LN: You testified that you had a row with Lena Sundman when you were in the hut on Svartholm. That you lost your temper and she lost hers.

  GR: Yes.

  LN: Enough to strike her.

  GR: No. W
e were shouting at each other but that was all.

  LN: And yet you told her you were prepared to kill her.

  GR: To frighten her. But I knew, deep inside myself I knew that she wouldn’t harm us badly. She would have used some of the information she had to try to persuade the probate court that the will was fake but I don’t think she would have gone farther than that.

  LN: You didn’t say that before.

  GR: No. But I’ve thought it over.

  LN: Do you think the will is a fake?

  GR: I don’t know. I wasn’t there when it was made.

  LN: How did you think she was going to get back?

  GR: I didn’t think of that. I suppose I didn’t care. I would have gone back for her though.

  LN: I want to go through the times with you again. You say you left Svartholm at around five o’clock in the morning.

  GR: Roughly. Maybe a little later.

  LN: And in the boat you headed back to the jetty below the farm.

  GR: Yes.

  LN: Another boat crossed in front of you shortly after you left the cove. Maybe five minutes or so.

  GR: Roughly.

  LN: The description you gave of it would fit a lot of sailing boats. Here you said, I quote, ‘It had two masts, and it was long and low and looked sleek.’ That’s not very much to go on.

  GR: I don’t know anything about sailing boats. I’ve been told since that it was probably a yawl. I don’t know. I didn’t care what kind of boat it was or who was on it.

  LN: You didn’t hear its engine before you saw it?

  GR: No. I was sitting by the tiller, beside the outboard. It makes a lot of noise.

  LN: Did the other boat have its engine on?

  GR: It must have. It was moving too smoothly to be drifting.

  LN: An outboard engine?

  GR: No. I think it must have been inboard. Otherwise I’d have heard something as it passed.

  LN: The boat passed across in front of you but the man you saw made no sign?

  GR: No.

  LN: And he saw you?

  GR: Yes. I saw him stand up to look.

  LN: Did you make a sign to him?

  GR: No. I had other things on my mind. I didn’t think about him.

  LN: How long after that did the collision occur?

  GR: About ten minutes. Maybe less.

  LN: And you didn’t see that boat either?

  GR: I saw the first one. I’ve told you what it looked like. The second one came from behind. I didn’t know it was there until I felt a jolt. Then there was a harder jolt on the side and my boat turned over.

  LN: Did it strike you as peculiar that there were two other boats out on that stretch of water under such poor conditions?

  GR: Maybe it was the same boat but he must have gone tot­ally astray, swinging around behind me without realizing it.

  LN: Even more odd is if there were in fact two boats and neither of them has come forward. As you probably know, we have circulated your descriptions, the information has been published in the newspapers as well as on television news and the radio. No one has come forward. You are sure that your boat didn’t capsize due to a wrong manoeuvre on your part?

  GR: Yes, of course I’m sure.

  LN: You realize that Lena Sundman’s death may well be considered accidental. By a court, I mean.

  GR: With her face smashed? Her nose broken?

  LN: That wasn’t what killed her. What killed her was the trauma to her head when she hit it against the iron stove. Whoever struck her may well have panicked and left without meaning to have her come to further harm. I mean someone may have been horrified by what they had done in punching a woman in the face and simply fled. If that someone were to come forward and tell us it would certainly be seen as a sign of their good faith. If they try to conceal their action it will have quite the opposite effect in a court of law.

  GR: Why are you saying this to me?

  LN: I’m telling you what the situation is.

  GR: I didn’t strike Lena! When I left she was sitting on the edge of one of the beds. I was angry. I shouted at her. But I didn’t touch her.

  LN: You say your boat capsized and sank and you then swam towards home. Why did you not swim back towards Svart­holm? It was much closer, according to what you have told us.

  GR: I just kept going. I didn’t see anything, I didn’t know what direction it was. I didn’t stop to work things out.

  LN: You reached the shore and collapsed. You say you didn’t know which house it was. Yet after a little while you met the people who lived there. You talked to them.

  GR: I was in no condition to ask questions. As soon as I was on dry land I let go and collapsed. I don’t even remember them carrying me to the house.

  LN: But you were awake enough to answer them and say there was no need to ring for an ambulance?

  GR: I woke up in their house. There was nothing wrong with me. I was exhausted after the swim. I was frozen. That was all. When they let me rest I was able to go home.

  LN: You didn’t want the authorities involved. Is that correct?

  GR: There was no need.

  LN. They would have asked you where you were coming from. What you were doing on Svartholm Island in the night. Would you have told them about Lena Sundman? That she was alone out there with no way of getting back?

  GR: I intended to go back and get her myself. As soon as I had rested a little.

  LN: With what boat would you have gone?

  GR: I’d have borrowed a boat. I don’t know. I was too exhausted to think clearly just then.

  LN: I can inform you that your boat was found yester­day afternoon. About a hundred metres off Svartholm. Sub­merged. It’s being examined today.

  GR: You see? That’s what I told you.

  LN: You could have sunk it yourself.

  GR: Why would I do that?

  LN: If Lena Sundman’s blood was freshly on your clothes. On your hands and face. Most of that would be gone by the time you got to shore.

  GR: It happened when I left Svartholm! That’s why the man on the boat hasn’t got in touch. He knows he would have to pay for the damages.

  LN: His insurance would pay. Most Swedish boat owners would admit to an accident.

  GR: I didn’t hit Lena! I never touched her, I just pretended I would.

  LN: As soon as you got home you washed the clothes you had been wearing.

  GR: I put them in the washing machine, they were full of seawater. Of course I washed them!

  LN: Would you consider yourself a strong swimmer?

  GR: I know how to swim. Like everyone else.

  LN: Not quite like everyone else. You went often to the beach last summer, the beach the summer people go to. You did quite a lot of swimming and diving there. Perhaps to impress the girls? Anyway you are known on the island as a strong swimmer. So capsizing your boat and swimming to shore would not have been difficult for you. You arrive wet and clean. And put your clothes straight into the washing machine when you got home. Yet you say you were exhausted?

  GR: What else was I going to do with the clothes? Let the seawater dry into them for good?

  LN: This interrogation is concluded. The time is—

  GR: What will happen now?

  LN: We’ll get an estimate of how long ago the damage occurred to your boat. I’m aware of the special circumstances of your identity but if you’re lying to us it may not be possible to maintain them.

  GR: Why not?

  LN: If there’s a lengthy investigation, a lengthy trial—

  GR: I’m innocent. Why would I lie?

  LN: You were the last known person to see her alive. The estimated time of Lena Sundman’s death is between six and seven thirty on the morning of Sunday, 27 September. You have no alibi you can offer until approximately nine o’clock that morning when Olof Swann saw you lying on his beach.

  GR: The man on the sailing boat saw me. I’ve told you that!

  LN: Unfortunately no such person has
come forward.

  GR: Because he destroyed my boat! How can you know he’s insured?

  LN: No one who owns a boat that size would leave it uninsured. And no marina will accept uninsured boats. I want you to think over what you’ve told us one last time. If you’ve lied to us, you’ll be charged with murder, or at the very least manslaughter. Are you sure there is nothing more you wish to say? While there’s still time?

  GR: No.

  LN: We’ll make another effort to find at least one of these phantom boats. You’ll continue in custody until further notice, charged with suspicion of manslaughter alternatively murder in accordance with the second paragraph, third chapter of the criminal code. The time is 10.58.

  Interview with Bengt Olofsson

  Date: Monday, 26 October 1987

  Interviewing officer: Isabella Gutiérrez

  Type of interview: Per telephone; not recorded

  Type of protocol: Summary by interviewing officer

  Bengt Olofsson made contact with the undersigned by telephone at the above date and stated that on the morning of Sunday, 27 September 1987 he heard the noise of a motorboat entering the cove below his restaurant on Blidö. The time was then 06.30. He got up and went to the window and saw Daniel Byrne tie up a motorboat which Olofsson later identified as belonging to a neighbour, Sune Isaksson, who at that time was away. Olofsson thought no more of it until he began to hear rumours on the island that Byrne was intimately involved with the murdered girl. It seemed odd then that Byrne, whom he knew by sight though they had never met, should bring Isaksson’s boat in to the restaurant jetty at that hour of the morning. He has not seen Byrne again since that. The boat is still tied up there.

  Interrogation of Daniel James Byrne on Wednesday,

  12 November 1987

  Interrogating officer: Chief Inspector Leif Nordland

  Also present: Inspector Isabella Gutiérrez as witness

  Type of interrogation: In person; audio-recorded

  Type of protocol: Verbatim transcript