Patrik turned to his colleague. ‘What sort of job does Kaj do? Since he’s home on a weekday, I mean? Lilian said something about managing director.’
‘He sold the company and took early retirement,’ said Ernst, still grouchy after having his professionalism questioned. ‘But he also coaches the football team. He’s very good at it, actually. He would have turned pro when he was young, but he had some kind of accident that made it impossible. And I say again, this is a waste of time. Kaj Wiberg is one of the really good guys, and anyone who says different is lying. All this is just ridiculous.’
Patrik ignored him and kept climbing the front steps.
They rang the doorbell and waited. Soon they heard footsteps and the door was opened by a man Patrik assumed was Kaj. He brightened up when he saw Ernst.
‘Hi, Lundgren, how are things? There’s no card game today, is there?’
His broad smile faded quickly when he saw that neither of them reacted. He rolled his eyes. ‘So what’s the old bitch come up with this time?’ He showed them in to the big, open living room and sat down heavily in an easy chair, motioning them to have a seat on the sofa.
‘Well, not that I don’t feel sorry about what’s happened to them; it’s a real tragedy. But it’s incredible that she has the stomach to keep quarrelling with us even under these circumstances. I think that says a good deal about what sort of person she is.’
Patrik ignored this comment and studied the man before him. He was thin, of average height, with short, silver hair and the physique of a greyhound. Nevertheless there was actually something quite nondescript about him—he was the sort of man witnesses would never be able to describe if he decided to rob a bank.
‘We’re going round to all the neighbors who might have seen anything. It has nothing to do with your disputes.’ Patrik was determined not to say anything about Lilian having singled out her neighbor.
‘I see,’ said Kaj in a tone that had a slight hint of disappointment. A clear indication that the feud with his neighbor had become a constant and almost essential element in his life.
‘But why the questions?’ he went on. ‘It’s tragic that the kid drowned, but there can’t be anything for the police to investigate further. Surely there can’t be much else for you to do,’ he chuckled, but quickly altered his expression when he saw that Patrik did not find the situation the least bit amusing. Then something dawned on him.
‘Am I wrong about that? People are saying that the girl drowned, but you know how people talk. If the police are going around asking questions, that can only mean a different cause of death. Am I right or not?’ he said excitedly.
Patrik gave him a look of distaste. What’s the matter with people? How could they view the death of a little girl as something exciting? Didn’t people have any basic common decency anymore? He forced himself to maintain a neutral expression when he answered Kaj.
‘Well, that’s partially right. I can’t go into the details, but it turns out that Sara Klinga was murdered, so it’s of the utmost importance that we find out everything she did that day.’
‘Murdered,’ said Kaj. ‘Wow, that’s horrible.’ His expression was sympathetic, but Patrik could sense, rather than see, that the sympathy did not run very deep.
Patrik wanted to slap this disgusting man in the face. ‘As I mentioned, I can’t go into the details, but if you saw Sara on Monday morning, then it’s important that we find out where and when. As precisely as you can remember.’
Kaj frowned and thought hard. ‘Let me see now, Monday. Yes, I did see her sometime that morning, but I can’t say exactly when. She came out of the house and scampered off. That kid could never walk like regular people, she always bounced up and down like a blasted rubber ball.’
‘Did you see which direction she went?’ said Ernst, speaking for the first time during their visit. Kaj looked at him with amusement; apparently he found it funny to see his card-playing buddy in his professional role.
‘No, I just saw her go down the driveway. She turned and waved at someone before she bounded off, but I didn’t see which way she went.’
‘And you don’t recall what time this was?’ asked Patrik.
‘Not really, but it must have been sometime around nine. I’m sorry I can’t be more exact.’
Patrik hesitated a moment before he continued. ‘I understand that you and Lilian Florin are not on a friendly footing.’
Kaj snorted out loud. ‘No, you could certainly say that. There’s probably nobody who could stay on a “friendly footing” with that hag.’
‘Is there any special reason for this …’ Patrik searched for the right word, ‘antagonism?’
‘Not that there needs to be any special reason to quarrel with Lilian Florin, but I do happen to have a very good excuse. The trouble began as soon as we bought this lot and were about to build a house here. She had objections to the design and did everything she could to try and stop construction. She stirred up a small storm of protest, I must say.’ He chuckled. ‘A storm of protest in Fjällbacka. Can you hear my knees shaking?’ Kaj opened his eyes wide and pretended to look scared, and then burst out laughing. Then he collected himself and went on. ‘Well, we managed of course to take the wind out of that little commotion, even though it cost us both time and money. But since then, it’s been one thing after another. And I’m sure you know the extremes she’s willing to go to. It’s simply been hell all these years.’ He leaned back and crossed one leg over the other.
‘Couldn’t you have sold the house and moved somewhere else?’ Patrik asked cautiously, but the question sparked a fire in Kaj’s eyes.
‘Move? Not on your life! I would never give her the satisfaction. If anyone should move, she should. Now I’m just waiting for word from the court of appeals.’
‘The court of appeals?’ Patrik asked.
‘They built a balcony on their house without checking the building code first. And it sticks out two centimeters onto my property, so it’s against the law. They’re going to have to tear that balcony down as soon as the verdict comes in. It should be coming any day now, and I can’t wait to see Lilian’s face,’ Kaj beamed.
‘Don’t you think that they have bigger concerns at the moment than the existence or non-existence of a balcony?’ Patrik couldn’t help interjecting.
Kaj’s face darkened. ‘Certainly I’m not insensitive to their tragedy, but fair’s fair. And such things are of no concern to Lady Justice,’ he added, looking to Ernst for support. Ernst nodded appreciatively, giving Patrik yet another reason to worry. He was concerned enough even before it turned out that Ernst was mates with one of the persons on their interview list.
They had split up to cover the houses in the vicinity. Ernst muttered as he trudged through the biting cold. His tall body seemed to catch the wind quite effectively, and his lankiness made him sway back and forth, fighting to keep his balance. He could taste the gall at the back of his mouth. Once again he was being forced to take orders from a snot-nosed kid who was scarcely half his age. It was a mystery to Ernst. Why were his years of experience and skill constantly overlooked? It felt like a conspiracy, though he was fuzzy on who was behind it. Apparently he was regarded as a threat precisely because of the qualities he knew he possessed.
Knocking on doors was deadly boring, and he wished he were inside where it was warm. People had nothing sensible to say, either. No one had seen the little girl that morning, and all they could say was how terrible it all was. And Ernst had to agree. He was glad he’d never had kids. He’d managed to keep his distance from women too, he thought, repressing the fact that it was the women who had kept away from him.
He glanced over at Hedström, who was covering the houses on the other side of the Florins’. Sometimes he just itched to give his colleague a punch in the nose. He had seen the look in Hedström’s eyes when he was forced to take him along this morning. As insulting as it was, that had actually given Ernst a brief moment of satisfaction. Otherwise Hedström and Mo
lin were as thick as thieves, and they refused to listen to older colleagues like himself and Gösta. Even if Gösta was probably not the best example of a good cop, his many years on the force deserved respect. And it was no wonder that he’d lost interest in putting any energy into his job under the current conditions. Come to think of it, it was almost certainly the younger officers’ fault that his morale was so low, that he never felt like working and snuck off on breaks whenever possible. It was a comforting thought. Not that he hadn’t had pangs of guilt about his lackluster work performance, but now it was clear that it wasn’t his fault. It felt good that he’d finally put his finger on the source of the problem. All at once life felt much, much better. He knocked on the next door.
Frida was carefully combing the doll’s hair. She needed to look good because she was going to a party. The table in front of her was already set with tiny little plastic cups and fancy red plates filled with coffee and cakes. Who cared if they were only pretend?
Sara had always thought it was dumb to play with dolls. She said they were too old for that. Dolls were for babies, Sara had said, but Frida loved playing with dolls. Sara could be so tiresome sometimes. She always had to be the one to decide. Everything had to be the way she wanted it, or else she would sulk and break things. Mamma would get really mad at Sara when she broke Frida’s things. Then Sara would have to go home, and Mamma would call Sara’s mamma and her voice sounded so angry. But when Sara was nice, then Frida liked her a lot, so she still wanted to play with her. Just hoping that she’d be nice.
She didn’t understand what had happened to Sara. Mamma had explained that she was gone, that she drowned in the sea, but where was she then? In heaven, Mamma had said, but Frida had stood for a long, long time looking up at the sky, and she hadn’t seen Sara. She was sure that if Sara had been in heaven she would have waved to her. Since she hadn’t, that must mean she wasn’t there. So the question was: where was she? She couldn’t just disappear, could she? Imagine if Mamma disappeared like that. It scared Frida. If Sara could disappear, could mammas disappear too? She hugged her doll tighter.
There was something else she wondered about too. Mamma had said that the men who came and rang the doorbell and told them about Sara were police officers. Frida knew that you were supposed to tell the police everything. You could never lie to them. But she had promised Sara not to tell anybody about the nasty old man. Did she have to keep her promise to someone who was gone? If Sara was gone, then she wouldn’t find out if Frida told. But what if she came back and heard that Frida had tattled? Then she’d be madder than ever. She might even smash everything in Frida’s room, including her doll. Frida decided that it was best to keep quiet about the nasty old man.
‘Flygare, have you got a minute?’ Patrik had been careful to pause a moment after knocking on Gösta’s door, but he still saw his colleague hastily shut down a golf game on his computer.
‘Sure, I probably have a minute,’ said Gösta sullenly, painfully aware that Patrik had seen what he was doing. ‘Is this about the girl?’ he went on in a more pleasant tone. ‘I heard from Annika that it wasn’t an accident. Bloody awful,’ he said, shaking his head.
‘Yes, Ernst and I have just been out talking with the family,’ Patrik said, taking a seat. ‘We told them that now it’s a murder investigation. We asked all the family members where they were at the time Sara disappeared, and whether they knew anyone who’d want to harm her.’
Gösta raised his eyebrows. ‘Do you think that someone in the family might have killed her?’
‘Right now I don’t think anything. But in any case, it’s important to eliminate them from the investigation as soon as possible. At the same time we’ll have to check whether there are any known sex offenders in the area.’
‘But I thought the girl hadn’t been violated, from what Annika told me,’ said Gösta.
‘Not according to what the M.E. could see, but a little girl who’s murdered …’ Patrik didn’t need to finish his sentence. There had been far too many stories in the media about the exploitation of children for them to ignore that possibility.
‘On the other hand,’ Patrik went on, ‘to my surprise, I got an immediate answer when I asked whether they knew anyone who might wish them harm.’
Gösta held up his hand. ‘Let me guess, Lilian threw Kaj to the wolves.’
Patrik gave a little frown at the expression. ‘Well, I suppose you could put it that way. In any event, there doesn’t seem to be any love lost between them. We canvassed the neighborhood and had an informal interview with Kaj as well. You might say there are plenty of old grudges beneath the surface.’
Gösta snorted. ‘“Beneath the surface” isn’t the expression I’d use. It’s a drama that’s been going on in broad daylight for almost ten years. And personally I’m fed up with it.’
‘Well, I gathered from Annika that you’re the one who has taken the reports they’ve filed against each other over the years. Could you tell me a bit about them?’
Gösta turned round and took a binder from the bookshelf behind his desk. He hastily paged through it until he found what he was looking for.
‘I only have stuff from the most recent years here; the rest is down in archives.’
Patrik nodded.
‘You might as well take this binder. There’s a bunch of good details in here. Complaints from both sides about everything you could imagine.’
‘Like what?’
‘Trespassing—Kaj apparently cut across their property once, and received a death threat—Lilian clearly said to Kaj that he should watch out if he valued his life.’ Gösta kept paging through the binder. ‘And then we have a number of complaints about Kaj’s son, Morgan. Lilian claimed that he was spying on her, and I quote, “lads like that have an overdeveloped sex drive, I’ve heard, so I know he’s planning to rape me,” end quote. And this is just a small selection.’
Patrik shook his head in astonishment. ‘Don’t they have anything better to do?’
‘Apparently not,’ said Gösta dryly. ‘And for some reason they always insist on coming to me with their woes. But I’ll gladly pass them over to you for the time being,’ he said, handing the binder to Patrik, who accepted it reluctantly.
‘But even if both Kaj and Lilian are quarrelsome devils,’ Gösta added, ‘I find it hard to believe that Kaj would have gone so far as to kill her granddaughter.’
‘No doubt you’re right, said Patrik, getting up with the binder in his arms, ‘but, as I said, now his name has been brought up, so I’m at least going to have to examine that possibility.’
Gösta hesitated. ‘Let me know if you need any more help. Mellberg couldn’t have been serious when he said that you and Ernst were supposed to take care of this by yourselves. It’s a homicide investigation, after all. So if I can be of any assistance …’
‘Thanks, I appreciate it. And I think you’re right. Mellberg was probably just trying to rile me. Not even he could have meant that you and Martin wouldn’t be allowed to help out. So I thought I’d call in everyone for a briefing, probably tomorrow. If Mellberg has anything against it, he’ll have to speak up. But as I said, I don’t think he will.’
He thanked Gösta with a nod and headed into his own office. Settled in his desk chair, he opened the binder and began to read. It turned out to be a journey through the pettiness of humankind.
8
Strömstad 1923
Her hand shook a bit as she knocked on his windowpane. The window sprung open at once, and it pleased her to think that he must have been sitting there waiting for her. It was warm in the room, and she didn’t know whether his cheeks were flushed from the warmth or from the prospect of the hours they had before them. Probably the latter, she thought, feeling the same heat in her own face.
Finally, here was the moment she had been longing for, ever since she threw that first pebble against his window. She had understood instinctively that she needed to proceed slowly with him. If there was anything she knew
how to do, it was to read men. Read them and then give them the woman they wanted. In Anders’s case, that meant she would have to play the shrinking violet for a few interminable weeks, even though she wanted to creep into his room and slip into his bed that very first evening. But she knew he would have been scared off by such behavior. If she wanted to win him, she would have to play the game. Whore or madonna. She could give men both.
‘Are you frightened?’ he asked her as she sat next to him on his narrow bed.
She forced back a smile. If only he knew how often she’d done this before, he would be the one shaking with alarm. But she wouldn’t let on. Not now, when for the first time she wanted a man as much as he wanted her. So she looked down at the floor and just nodded feebly. When he tried to reassure her by putting his arms around her, she couldn’t help smiling against his shoulder.
Then she sought out his mouth with her own. As the kiss deepened, she felt him carefully unbuttoning her blouse. He moved at a devastatingly slow pace. She wanted to tear her blouse off, but that didn’t fit with the image she had spent weeks creating. Soon enough she’d be able to show her passion, but by then he’d be able to credit himself for having enticed her. Men were so simple.
When the last piece of clothing finally fell, she pulled the covers modestly over herself. Anders caressed her hair and looked into her eyes, silently asking her permission. Then he waited for her affirmative nod before he crept in beside her.
‘Could you blow out the candle?’ she asked, her voice tiny and frightened.
‘Yes, of course, absolutely,’ he said, embarrassed that he hadn’t realized she might prefer the cover of darkness. He reached toward the nightstand and pinched off the flame with his fingers. In the dark she felt him turn toward her and unbearably slowly begin to explore her body.
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