Silver Tears

by Camilla Lackberg

  Eyvind mumbled in agreement, his eyes firmly fixed on Alice’s neckline. She put an arm around him and smoothed back the hair at his temple.

  Ylva and Faye exchanged a look. They had mixed the drinks using little but spirits. Given how much the men had drunk down in the bar, they wouldn’t notice how strong the drinks were.

  Faye discreetly checked that she had her mobile phone close at hand and she saw Ylva do the same.

  Before long, both Börje and Kent had nodded off on the sofa. Alice leaned closer to Eyvind and licked his ear. Faye took out her mobile phone. She took care to ensure that Alice looked good in the photo. She was always meticulous about things like that.

  FJÄLLBACKA—THEN

  I hammered and shouted, but they ignored me. Their voices penetrated the wooden walls, as did the smell of grilled hot dogs. They were in a good mood. Laughing loudly. I sank to the floor with my back to the door. I pictured Tomas’s face before me—the friendly smile, the sparkling eyes. Had I understood any of it?

  What was Sebastian thinking? Had this been his idea? Why had he wanted to bring me? Had this been the plan from the beginning, or had I done something wrong?

  Time passed. Although I had no watch, I thought at least two or three hours had elapsed. I stood up and tried again. Pounded on the door.

  “Please, let me out,” I pleaded. “I’m thirsty.”

  They didn’t answer.

  “Sebastian? I want to come out. I want to go home.”

  The conversation outside continued. They laughed. I assumed it was at me for sounding pathetic. I felt pathetic and stupid. Light shone through the crack at the bottom of the door—it was still daytime.

  I was like a dog. A mad, repressed dog. A lovesick, stupid mongrel. A little kindness and I had rolled onto my back and dropped all suspicion. Tomas’s sparkling eyes and deep smile lines had made me abandon everything I knew. The knowledge that no one could be trusted.

  The rage inside me slowly began to awaken. Above all, I was angry at myself for being so naïve. I pounded my fists against the door again. I could feel small splinters digging into the skin of my hands. I welcomed the pain. I hit even harder. Roared until my throat ached. Eventually, I sank down with my back to the door again.

  More time passed, I lost track of how long.

  They were talking in lower voices now. Their voices were hoarse, whispering. There was something unnerving about that.

  I got up again and pressed my ear to the door, trying to hear what they were saying. Now the panic began to hit me. What was I going to do if they left me here? I would die of thirst. No one would find me. The panic increased and I pounded on the door again.

  To my surprise, it sounded as if they were heading for the cabin. I stepped back and stood there with my arms hanging by my sides. The key turned in the lock. Sebastian stepped inside.

  Roger and Tomas came behind him.

  None of them said anything—they simply stared at me with their dead, inebriated eyes. I took another step back, pressed myself against the wall, and tried to make myself small.

  But there was nowhere to escape to.

  Someone had tried to get into the apartment at Östermalmstorg. The marks showed clearly in white, like huge scars on the dark wood of the front door. Faye put down her cabin bag, bent forward, and examined them. Her heart was pounding violently in her breast. Her father? No, more likely Jack. He must have been here and tried to get in, clearly without success. It was like a warning—a message that he was after her. Faye quickly glanced over her shoulder, put her keys in the lock, turned them, opened the black security grille, stepped into the hallway, and locked the door behind her.

  She leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and tried to gather her thoughts. It was better that he was after her rather than Julienne.

  Indeed, the fact that Jack had showed up could be seen as advantageous. He had shown his hand and demonstrated that he had no intention of staying away.

  Faye rooted in her handbag for her phone, dialed the number for her liaison officer with the police, and explained what had happened. Ten minutes later, two uniformed officers arrived. They inspected the door, took notes, and asked a series of questions that Faye answered to the best of her abilities.

  “You have to find him,” she said when they had finished asking their questions. “He’s going to hurt me. He’s already killed my daughter.”

  The policeman looked at her calmly.

  “We know the background. We haven’t got the resources to protect you twenty-four/seven, but we’ll make sure we do everything we can to catch him. Now we know he’s in Stockholm. And you’ve got your liaison to check in with daily.”

  “How am I supposed to go to my office and carry on living my life when he’s stalking me?”

  “Do you have anywhere else you can stay for the time being? Until we catch him?”

  A sound from the doorway made Faye turn around. When she caught sight of David, she rushed to him and flung her arms around him.

  “I saw the door. Has Jack been here?” he asked, pulling her into an embrace.

  Faye nodded, tears forming in her eyes as she smelled his familiar scent. David turned to the policeman.

  “What can you do about it?”

  “Not much. As I just explained to Ms. Adelheim, we can’t protect her around the clock. Maybe you should check into a hotel instead?”

  The policemen departed, leaving them alone. For the first time since Faye had met him, David seemed really worked up. He paced back and forth by the kitchen island with a glass of apple juice in his hand.

  “He can’t be allowed to ruin things for you—to shut you down like this. I know a man with a security company. We can sort out some bodyguards. You have to be allowed to keep working as usual without having to look over your shoulder. That fucking idiot. Who does he think he is?”

  “I can’t have bodyguards, David.”

  “I’ll pay. He can’t stop you from living. He’s done that enough. Jesus, I hate guys like him.”

  Faye had a warm feeling inside at the thought of his concern.

  “It’s not about the money. If I have to have protection, then he’s managed to scare me. Cow me. And who knows how long this will last? He might stay hidden for months. If we’re lucky, he’ll be caught soon. At least now the police know he’s in Stockholm.”

  David stopped in front of her.

  “I know you’ve only just gotten home, but I’d like us to go away—just for a couple of days. Until things calm down a bit.”

  Faye caressed his cheek. Yes, she really did want to go away with him.

  “What do you think of Madrid?” she asked. “I have to go anyway, for a meeting. We could fly out early, celebrate Midsummer there?”

  He took her hands and drew her to him.

  “As it happens, I’m one of those guys who loves Midsummer. Schnapps, herring, Västerbotten cheese, maypoles. But for you, my love, I’m happy to sacrifice it all. Yo amo Madrid.”

  Faye took David’s hand as they strolled along Strandvägen. She remembered the evening they had broken into the boat and made love for the first time. In many ways, her relationship with David was the most straightforward, most natural one she had ever had.

  With Jack, she had often been uncertain and had adapted to please him. She had always been at war with her own internal instincts over the fear of losing him. When she spent time with David, she never even had to consider forgoing anything. He showed clearly and wholeheartedly that he wanted her the way she was. Perhaps it was age? Perhaps it was just that she and David were a better match than she and Jack had been?

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked, looking at her in amusement. “You’re smiling…”

  “Us, as it happens.”

  “We’re good together,” he said. “I like it when you think about us.”


  The sun was shining, and the heat had arrived with gusto.

  They passed the pier at Nybrokajen where the Djurgården ferries waited to fill up with tourists, while to the right Berzelii Park opened up before them. People were half reclining on the grass in the shade, eating their lunch.

  When they reached the Grand Hôtel on Blasieholmen, Faye stayed in the lobby while David took the elevator up to his room.

  It was cool and felt pleasant. Faye closed her eyes, enjoying the murmuring voices echoing between the stone walls.

  She was looking forward to the trip to Madrid—it was their first trip together. She had one business meeting, but other than that, she was going to ensure that she and David had a wonderful time together.

  Her mobile vibrated in her handbag and she took it out.

  “Henrik was just in the office,” said Kerstin.

  “At Revenge? You’re kidding!”

  “Afraid not. I wasn’t there, but Sandra in PR called.”

  “Revenge isn’t his yet, he has no right…What did Sandra say he was doing there?”

  Faye was so worked up that she stood from her armchair.

  “He went around introducing himself to the staff. Inspected the office. According to Sandra, he acted like he owned the place. He asked everyone to send in their CVs so that he could, as he put it, ‘determine who will be assets for the company.’ ”

  “The cheeky bastard. Irene told me how he treats women in his current company—the few that he even hires—chauvinistic shit that he is.”

  Faye almost collided with a white-haired lady in a chinchilla fur coat and several strings of pearls.

  “Sorry.”

  “Excuse me?” said Kerstin.

  “No, no. I wasn’t talking to you. But what does he think he’s playing at? There was no point in that except to wind me up. Which he’s succeeded in doing.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to remain calm, not do anything hotheaded, and stick to Ylva’s plan.”

  “It went well in Amsterdam, in other words?”

  Faye recollected a couple of key moments from the trip to Amsterdam, but decided it was best Kerstin knew as little as possible about what had happened there.

  “It was above expectations.”

  “Well, then. Let’s ignore Henrik for now and do what we have to do.”

  “Yes. We’ll ignore him,” Faye said, ending the call. But she could feel herself grinding her teeth.

  An agitated voice made her turn around. A woman with long, dark hair was remonstrating with the receptionists. Faye recognized her right away. Naturally, she had googled her and spotted her penchant for Chanel dresses. It was Johanna Schiller, David’s wife. Faye got out her phone, put it to her ear, and crouched as she hurried for the exit. If Johanna caught sight of her, she would probably cause a scene. She must be here to find David. As Faye exited through the revolving door, she heard Johanna continuing her argument with the receptionists:

  “What do you mean, you can’t give me a key? It’s my husband staying here. David Schiller. I’m Johanna Schiller. Surely I can have a key to my own husband’s room?”

  Faye clenched her fists in frustration and anger as she quickly continued on her way down the steps and toward the water. Everything Johanna was doing was so low. She couldn’t leave David alone. Not even here. And she was using their two daughters to blackmail him. It was so selfish.

  Faye ended up standing on the quayside. One way or another she was going to deal with the conflict, but not now. It was just as well David handled this stuff himself. She found an empty bench and sat down. She still hadn’t told David that Johanna had tried to get hold of her. She didn’t quite know why she was hesitating. When they were together, she mostly wanted to pretend Johanna didn’t exist. She didn’t want to talk about her. If David wanted to talk about her then she didn’t stop him. But she preferred it if Johanna didn’t force her way into their bubble.

  She still had her mobile phone in her hand, and now it rang. It was Ylva.

  “Hi, Ylva, recovered from the weekend yet?”

  Faye could hear right away that something was up. Ylva was gulping as she spoke, sobbing.

  “He’s been here. Jack has been here.”

  FJÄLLBACKA—THEN

  Tomas and Roger tried to carry me to the bed, but I kicked, screamed, and bit so much that they dropped me on the floor. Instead, they grabbed hold of my feet and dragged me along behind them. My gaze roamed over Sebastian’s relentless face as they dragged me. For some reason, it made me go quiet—at least for a bit. There were three of them. I didn’t stand a chance. I realized that. They laid me on the bed, then tore off my trousers and underwear.

  “No,” I pleaded. “I don’t want to.”

  But I didn’t struggle. That would only make it worse. It was as if my whole body had gone numb and would no longer obey me.

  Their eyes were dark, and they showed no emotion when I begged them to stop. Roger held my arms tightly. Tomas pulled out his cock and parted my legs forcefully. There was still a sparkle in his eyes. But it was a gleam of a different kind.

  He penetrated me.

  It stung. It hurt so much.

  He thrust. Faster and faster. I gritted my teeth. Closed my eyes. His body smelled of beer and smoky fat. It took only a minute or so before I felt the convulsions in Tomas’s body and the hot stickiness as he spurted his seed into me.

  Then it was Roger’s turn.

  He smelled of cigarette smoke. He was more violent. I noticed that he liked seeing my fear as he violently pushed into me. I gasped. He didn’t drop his gaze from my face. Constantly staring at me, wanting to see how I reacted. I felt helpless. Powerless. I turned my head so at least they couldn’t see my face. That retained a shred of my self-esteem—or so I imagined.

  Sebastian lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall, watching. I hated him. But most of all I hated myself for being a sappy teenager who’d been happy when my big brother had asked me if I wanted to come with them. When Sebastian spotted me watching him, he turned around and looked out of the window. Then and there, I realized how similar he was to Dad. I’d never seen that before.

  I remembered when I was five years old. I hadn’t noticed that Mom and Dad fought. I hadn’t heard the cries. In the middle of a dream, I’d woken up, picked up my teddy, and, half awake, half asleep, I’d wandered into Mom and Dad’s bedroom. I did that sometimes—curled up on Mom’s side while she put her arms around me protectively, her back turned to Dad.

  I was already at the foot of their bed when I realized they weren’t asleep. At first it looked like they were wrestling. Dad was holding Mom’s arms. Mom was naked. I’d never seen Mom naked before. I didn’t understand what was happening. But I did see that Mom was crying.

  Now, as I saw Sebastian standing at the window, he had that same expression on his face that Dad had had then.

  The neighbors’ agitated voices and a TV show were audible through the walls of the gray block of apartments in a suburb somewhere on the outskirts of Stockholm. Ylva was sitting on a chair in the kitchen, with her head buried in her hands.

  Her body was shaking. She was crying silently. Faye stroked her back, trying to comfort her.

  The police had left a little earlier. They had apologized for what had happened, created a police report, and promised to do everything in their power to find Jack. Jack had given Ylva the number for his mobile and said that she would know when it was time to get in touch. He had added that it was a burner and that he switched the phone on only occasionally each day. So there’s no point in the police trying to trace me, he’d said before leaving Ylva.

  “But he didn’t do anything,” Ylva said, brushing away her tears. “He just gave me the mobile number and then beat it. He didn’t even want to see Nora. I think he…he just did this to b
ring you out into the open.”

  Faye shuddered.

  She heard a child’s cry from the bedroom. Amazingly enough, Nora had slept through both Jack forcing the front door and the visit from the police. But now she had woken up.

  “I’ll take her,” Faye said softly.

  Ylva didn’t reply.

  Faye got up. Next to a neatly made single bed there was a small extendable bed. She approached Nora carefully. She had seen her before only on TV and in the papers. Jack’s daughter.

  Faye would have loved to have more kids with him, but when she had gotten pregnant again Jack had said he didn’t want any more children after Julienne. In hindsight, Faye realized it was because he had already met Ylva.

  Jack had forced Faye into an abortion. She remembered the hours of nausea at the hospital with Chris at her side, since Jack hadn’t even bothered to show up. Had he been with Ylva or someone else that time?

  It didn’t matter now.

  Nora was lying on her back, looking up at Faye with big blue eyes. There was no doubt about it—she was Jack’s daughter. And Julienne’s half sister, come to that. She was a copy of her father. Faye stared at her as if bewitched before bending down, holding out her arms, and picking her up. She held the child close to her breast.

  “There there, there there,” she hushed.

  Nora quieted down. Allowed herself to be embraced. The intensity of her crying reduced as Faye made her way back through the apartment to the kitchen.

  Faye ended up standing in front of Ylva with Nora in her arms. Ylva couldn’t stay here, she knew. Jack might turn up at any moment and actually manage to get in. Another screech rang out from the apartment next door. Down in the car park, someone was revving up a moped.

  “This is what we’re going to do,” said Faye. “You can borrow whatever you need from me to buy an apartment in the middle of town. And you’ll pay it back when you can.”