Last One Alive

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Last One Alive Page 16

by Karin Nordin


  ‘I never thought I’d be here again.’

  Esme nodded. ‘I know.’

  Kjeld’s shoulders sagged. Four years ago, Jonny Lindh had been the sole survivor of a mass murder-suicide. It had been early in Kjeld’s partnership with Esme. One of the first and most gruesome crimes they’d investigated together. A group of high school students decided to celebrate an end-of-term party out on the nature reserve, using the abandoned cabin as a base for their party. One of the party-goers was a quiet student, the kind who never spoke up in class, received adequate grades, and was brutally bullied throughout his entire childhood. In revenge against the classmates who had tormented him, he’d laced the alcohol with antifreeze. Kjeld still remembered the look on Jonny’s face when he told his story. The sheer terror he experienced as he watched each of his friends double over in pain just before coating the cabin in vomit and convulsing on the floor. It had been a particularly gory scene. One of the worst in Kjeld’s recent memory. The bullied teenager ended the night by shooting himself in the head. Jonny only survived because he’d stuck to drinking soda the entire night, unbeknownst to the student who’d dosed the cider.

  Kjeld clenched his eyes shut to shake away the image of the dozen other bodies that had once covered the floor. When he reopened them only Jonny was left. He glanced over at the table with the punch bowl. It was still half full and Kjeld could smell the sickly-sweet contents. On the ground lay an empty cup a few feet from Jonny’s fingers. Used, by the looks of it.

  Esme watched him with an intense look of concern.

  ‘Christ,’ Kjeld grumbled. A thickness caught in his throat as he surveyed the scene. He didn’t know what was worse, finding another one of the survivors from his old cases dead in the manner originally intended to kill him or the fact that Jonny’s expression looked almost relieved. ‘Have you notified his family yet?’

  Esme shook her head. ‘Sixten and I were going to head over there after we finished here.’

  Kjeld nodded. ‘This is going to break his mother. Maybe I should go, too. I was there before, after all. It only seems right.’

  ‘That’s actually something I want to talk to you about.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘A theory I’ve been thinking about all morning.’ Esme canted her head. ‘I’m concerned about a potential pattern I’m seeing here.’

  ‘What pattern is that?’

  ‘Louisa was one of your cases. Andrea was potentially murdered by a firearm used in another of your previous cases. And Jonny’s crime was also one that you investigated.’

  ‘What are you trying to say?’

  ‘I’m saying it feels like a pattern.’

  ‘But Andrea was never a victim in a case I investigated. I agree, it’s peculiar that the bullet that killed her matches one from the Hedebrant case, but we still haven’t heard back from ballistics on the gun. It could have been an error. And I’ve worked so many cases over the years, you could probably throw a stone and hit someone who was related to one of them.’

  ‘I know. I just have a feeling. And it worries me.’ Esme turned to face Kjeld. ‘If there’s a link between you and these murders, even if it’s just two of them, then we have to consider the possibility that you’re at risk.’

  ‘If the killer wanted to get to me they could have. They didn’t have to kill two other people to do so. Besides, I thought we agreed Andrea’s case was unrelated.’

  ‘I’m still not certain about Andrea. It could be a coincidence. But maybe Louisa and Jonny were just meant to get your attention. Maybe that’s what the killer is building up to. And I know you don’t want to think about yourself as a possible target, but I’m serious. This changes everything. Whether we like it or not, there is a potential connection now. And you know what the chief is going to say—’

  ‘I am not walking away from this case simply because it looks like the killer is going after people from my old cases. For all we know it’s an attempt to misdirect us. Maybe it’s a sign that we’re getting close to catching this person.’

  Esme didn’t respond directly. She gave Kjeld a reflective look, as though thinking about bringing up something, then looked away. ‘Jonny changes the pattern. We’re not just looking for someone who’s targeting women. We’re looking for someone who’s targeting survivors of high-profile cases. We’re going to have to go back to the drawing board and refocus. Maybe we can find another similarity between them.’

  ‘If that’s the case, this killer is trying to make a statement about these survivors. They’re not just restoring the old crime scenes, they’re finishing them. Giving the old crimes new endings, if you will. That’s where we’re going to find the answer.’ Kjeld turned his attention back down to the body, forehead wrinkling in thought. ‘Is it possible that we could be looking for a survivor as well?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The killer. If you’re correct and this person is seeking out survivors, is it possible that they also survived something? Something that maybe they didn’t want to survive? Or someone whose life became worse afterwards?’

  Kjeld thought of Louisa and the course of her life after being rescued from Gjur Hägglund’s cellar. He’d saved her life, but had she been better off? Was a life spent hiding from the world and fearing the worst in everyone around you a life at all?

  Esme wrinkled her brow. ‘Like an angel of death? Someone who thinks they’re doing these people a favour?’

  ‘I don’t know, but this doesn’t feel like someone who’s killing for the sake of killing. This person wants attention for something else. Something we’re not seeing.’

  But what kind of message could the killer be sending about these victims? That they weren’t safe? That no one was? Kjeld caught himself thinking of the day he’d found Louisa eight years ago. There’d been a defining look in her eyes back then, but it wasn’t a look he ever would have associated with a survivor. It was the look of someone who’d given up.

  Jonny had that same look in his eyes now.

  ‘Daddy?’

  At first Kjeld thought he heard his daughter’s voice in his mind. Then she said his name again and he turned sharply on his heel to see Tove standing just inside the doorway of the cabin. She was staring at the lifeless form of Jonny Lindh, her eyes wide in fear and confusion. A second later Sixten scrambled into the cabin, panic-stricken.

  ‘Oh my God,’ Esme gasped.

  ‘I’m sorry, Kjeld!’ Sixten panted between gasps of breath. ‘She just jumped out of the car and made a run for it.’

  Kjeld rushed over to Tove, blocking her view of the scene.

  ‘What’s wrong with that man, Daddy?’ Tears welled up in her eyes.

  ‘Nothing, sweetheart. Come here.’ Kjeld picked her up, turning her away from the scene and carrying her out of the cabin.

  Tove buried her face into his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, Daddy. You were taking so long and I didn’t want to sit in the car anymore!’

  Sixten and Esme followed after them.

  ‘I’m really sorry, boss. Honest. I didn’t see her get out until it was too late. And she was just so damn fast.’

  Kjeld shot Sixten a glare as he stormed past him, ducking under the cordon tape. ‘Don’t talk to me, Sund.’

  A camera flash nearly blinded him on the other side of the tape and Kjeld caught himself in a dead stare with Henny Engström, the gleam on her face pleased and predatory.

  Chapter 35

  Söndag | Sunday

  ‘What happened?’

  Kjeld stood in the narrow entranceway of the upscale flat Bengt shared with Liam. His face was cold and numb. The rain that had been soaking the city for weeks had let up again, but the temperatures had decided to drop to frigid levels. Now the mist that coated the air was like little pieces of ice. And suddenly stepping into a warmer space left him flushed.

  ‘Kjeld, what happened?’ Bengt adjusted his glasses that were always falling forward on his face. He was dressed more casually in a sweater and jeans
, a pair of boiled wool house slippers on his feet. Kjeld thought he saw dark circles under his eyes, but that might have been from the dim lighting in the hall. ‘Tell me.’

  Kjeld hung his head in shame, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he tried to find the words to explain what had happened without looking more irresponsible than he already was. Tove had run off to her room the moment they arrived, slamming the door shut behind her. She wasn’t angry with him. She was just confused and upset because Kjeld was upset. And because she didn’t fully understand what she’d seen.

  ‘There was an incident today.’

  ‘An incident?’ Bengt raised a suspicious brow.

  Kjeld lifted his head and glanced past Bengt. Through the doorway in the corridor, he could see that the entire living room and kitchen space had been remodelled to an open floor plan. The furnishings and décor were modern and streamlined, styled in the way Bengt had always talked about. It barely even resembled the home it had been when Kjeld lived there. And in the centre of it all was Liam cutting up vegetables for dinner. The sight of him filled Kjeld with a regrettable longing. And he turned to the side so as not to be facing that direction. He didn’t need any more distractions that could potentially set him off.

  ‘Tove came upon a crime scene,’ he said in a hushed whisper.

  ‘Tove came upon a – what?’

  ‘She was in the car. I asked a colleague of mine to watch her for a few minutes while I was on the scene and she snuck out of the car when he wasn’t looking to come and find me.’ Now that he said it aloud it sounded even worse.

  ‘What are you saying, Kjeld? What did she see?’

  Kjeld wiped his hands over his face, fingers jabbing deep into the sinus points along the sides of his nose until a dull pain spread through the ridge of his brows. ‘I’m not certain.’

  ‘You’re not certain what she saw?’ Bengt’s expression was fraught with horror. ‘What kind of crime scene was it?’

  Kjeld knitted his brows together. Neither apology nor explanation would be enough to make up for this blunder. The words to express how he felt simply didn’t come to him. He’d never felt more ashamed in his life.

  But Bengt had always been able to read him well. And Kjeld’s silence said enough.

  Bengt shook his head. ‘I don’t believe it. You allowed our daughter to see – to see what? A murder victim? A body? What the hell, Kjeld? She’s a child. Do you know what that could do to her?’

  ‘I know and I didn’t allow it! It was an accident. Honestly. I told her to wait for me in the car. I left someone with her—’

  ‘Who?’ Bengt interrupted. ‘What kind of idiot did you leave in charge of our daughter while you went gallivanting around a murder scene?’

  ‘Gallivanting? Oh, come on, Bengt. You make it sound like I was at a fucking strip club.’

  ‘That I would be able to explain to her. Strippers I couldn’t give a shit about. But a dead body? She could be traumatised for life!’

  ‘It’s possible she didn’t see as much as I think she did. And there wasn’t any blood or anything.’

  ‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Kjeld, this is serious.’

  ‘I know it’s serious.’

  Bengt scratched his fingers through his hair, digging at his scalp. ‘I’m going to have to find a therapist for her. We have to get on this right away. We can’t wait. And you have to explain this to her.’

  ‘What?’ Kjeld wasn’t prepared for that. He could barely explain it to Bengt. How was he supposed to explain it to Tove? Bengt had always been so much better at these things than he was. Bengt had a natural way with Tove. He understood her needs so much better than Kjeld ever did. Or ever would. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘You have to.’

  ‘I don’t know how.’

  ‘Figure it out. And do it now before it’s too late.’ Bengt took a deep breath and glanced back towards the kitchen, a glimmer of panic on his face. ‘I’m not going to tell Liam. This would enrage him beyond belief.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Kjeld said.

  ‘I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Tove. I told you I want her to have you in her life. Regardless of how reckless and foolish you can be, that’s important to me. I know you’re … trying. But if Liam finds out about this he will be livid. He cares a lot about her.’

  ‘I care about her too.’

  ‘Which is why you need to be the one to talk to her.’

  ‘Dinner will be ready soon!’ Liam called out from the kitchen. ‘If Kjeld’s staying tell him to take his shoes off before he comes in!’

  Kjeld flinched at the sound of his name. Even more so at the politeness that he knew probably infuriated Liam as much as it did himself.

  Kjeld slipped off his shoes and started down the corridor towards Tove’s room. ‘I’ll do my best.’

  Bengt nodded. ‘You better.’

  Chapter 36

  Kjeld sat on the edge of Tove’s bed, but Tove remained hidden beneath her pink polka-dotted duvet, a curled-up lump beneath the blanket and a soft whimpering sound the only signs that she was in the room.

  The bedroom was picture-perfect for a little girl. Bengt – and Liam, much as Kjeld didn’t like to admit it – spared no expense to make her room every girl’s dream. Between the flowered curtains, the unicorn collection, and the heart-shaped picture frames boasting photographs of Tove with her friends at school and her dance lessons, it was a tad too girly for Kjeld’s tastes. But it was artfully done and it was a considerable step up from the spare bedroom at his place, with its second-hand IKEA furniture and bare walls.

  He was working on finding a new place for them though. Somewhere Tove could have a proper room like the one she had with Bengt. He’d seen a house for sale on Järntorgsgatan that would be perfect. It was in a much nicer neighbourhood, closer to Bengt and her school. It was a bit out of his price range even with his recent inheritance. Well, out of the range he wanted to pay. But its location would allow him to better support Tove during her weekends with him. And that would be worth the price.

  ‘Tove, could you come out for a minute? I want to talk to you.’

  Tove squirmed underneath the duvet, her voice muffled in the bedding. ‘I don’t want to.’

  ‘Not even for a quick second before I have to leave?’

  Tove peeked her head out from beneath the blanket, concealing everything save for her eyes. ‘Are you leaving?’

  Kjeld brought the duvet down beneath her chin. Then he swept her wild head of red curls from her face. ‘I have to go home soon. You have to eat dinner and I have to feed Oskar.’

  ‘I forgot to give Oskar a treat yesterday.’

  ‘Should I give him one for you?’

  Tove nodded. ‘And tell him it’s from me.’

  ‘I will.’ Kjeld smiled. How was it that children could appear so resilient? He felt like he was falling apart on the inside and Tove seemed, all things considered, the picture of composure. ‘I wanted to talk to you about what you saw today.’

  ‘About the man in the cabin?’

  ‘Yes. About the man in the cabin.’ Kjeld took a deep breath. ‘You know what Daddy does for a living, right?’

  ‘You catch bad guys.’

  ‘That’s right. But sometimes the bad guys get away or they’re too fast for me.’

  Tove pursed her lips. ‘And they hurt people.’

  Kjeld’s stomach clenched with nerves. He wished Bengt were there beside him to reassure him that he was doing this properly. That he was saying the right things. ‘Yes.’

  Tove looked down at her duvet, fidgeting with the button on the end of the cover. ‘Did a bad guy hurt the man in the cabin?’

  ‘Yes. And I wasn’t there to help him. But that’s why I had to be there. So I could find some clues to help me catch the bad guy before anyone else gets hurt.’ Kjeld placed a hand over his daughter’s, gently squeezing her fingers. ‘I’m sorry you saw that. It must have been really scary.’

  ‘It was a little.�


  Kjeld took a deep breath. He wasn’t prepared to explain murder to a six-year-old.

  ‘Will the bad guy hurt us?’

  ‘No, sweetheart. Absolutely not. I would never let anything happen to us. You know I’ll always protect you.’

  ‘And Papa and Liam?’

  ‘Them, too.’

  ‘And Oskar?’

  Kjeld let out a small laugh. ‘Oskar especially.’

  Tove crawled out from beneath the covers and sat up. Kjeld hadn’t noticed it earlier, but her hair was getting so long. It was well below her shoulders now. It reminded him of how quickly she was growing up.

  ‘Papa might take you to someone to talk about what you saw. Would that be okay?’

  Tove looked away. ‘Are you angry with me?’

  ‘Of course not. Nobody is angry. It wasn’t your fault, Tove. I shouldn’t have taken you there.’

  ‘I’m sorry I got out of the car.’

  ‘It’s all right. There’s nothing for you to be sorry about.’

  Tove nodded, but Kjeld could see in her expression that she didn’t quite believe him.

  Kjeld glanced over to her nightstand where a snowglobe with a unicorn inside sat perched in a place of honour beside a lamp. He picked it up and shook it, watching as the sparkles spiralled around the inside of the globe. ‘I didn’t know you still liked unicorns.’

  ‘I don’t,’ Tove said in that pragmatic tone only children were capable of. ‘But Papa likes to buy them for me.’

  Kjeld smiled, setting the snowglobe back down. ‘It’s a very nice gift.’

  Tove pulled her stuffed hammerhead shark puppet out from beneath her pillow. ‘I like my shark better.’

  ‘Well, if I see a shark snowglobe I’ll be sure to get it for your birthday.’

 

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