Silver Tears

by Camilla Lackberg

  “Bad news travels fast too.”

  Jaime had a heavy Spanish accent, but his English syntax was perfect and his vocabulary extensive, so they had no difficulties understanding each other. Faye had learned Italian to a high level, so she could understand most of the conversation if it was in Spanish, but she would struggle to make herself understood as well as she needed to. Hence they were speaking English.

  “What do you mean?” she said, waiting while she took a piece of chocolate from the plate in front of her.

  “I have good friends in Sweden. There are rumors about Revenge. About a buyout.”

  The square of chocolate seemed to grow in her mouth. Faye had been worrying about this moment. So far, she had managed to keep the press from writing anything, and she guessed that Henrik didn’t want a leak as of yet either—preferring to drop the bomb in grandiose style in the media once it was a fait accompli. But Stockholm was a small city, and the business world in Stockholm was even smaller—she wasn’t surprised that the rumors had begun to reach other shores.

  How she dealt with this conversation would be decisive. If she didn’t continue working toward the American expansion in which she had invested so much time, energy, and hope, she might as well throw in the towel. If she did that, she didn’t even deserve Revenge.

  “There are always rumors, Jaime. You know that as well as I do. I’m guessing it’s the same here in Spain. In Madrid. If I started asking around, how many rumors do you think I’d hear about you and your company? A handsome man like you…There must have been stories about you over the years? How many lovers have the gossip rags pinned on you, Jaime?”

  She smiled at him, straightened her neck, and let her eyes flash as brightly as her diamond rings. He laughed loudly, flattered.

  “Yes, you’re right. There have been a lot of claims that haven’t been true.”

  He leaned in and winked at her.

  “But I’m afraid a great deal of it has been true…”

  “I’d already figured as much. You’re a bad boy, Jaime,” Faye said with a giggle, while inwardly sighing.

  Men. Sometimes she wondered how they had ever managed to preserve the patriarchy throughout human history.

  “It’s good to hear that it’s just evil tongues wagging,” said Jaime. “We’re looking forward to completing our deal. From what I understand, there are just a handful of minor details left to iron out. My lawyers say we can sign the contract within a week.”

  “That’s what I’ve heard from my lawyers too.”

  Jaime drained his espresso, propped his elbows on the table, and eyed Faye from beneath his mop of hair. She knew what was coming. There were so many meetings with so many men where she danced this dance. They all wanted the same thing. First business. Then pussy. As if it were part of the deal.

  Faye smiled broadly. Over the last few years she had mastered the art of dealing with situations like this.

  “I thought…” Jaime lowered his voice and looked her in the eye. “If you didn’t have any plans this evening, I might show you some of my favorite hideaways. I know all the best restaurants and the top chefs are my personal friends. And I’ve got a little apartment here in the city. I work such long days that sometimes it’s too late to go home to my beautiful villa in the mountains. Perhaps we can round off the evening there with coffee and…?”

  He waved at the server and asked for the bill.

  Faye groaned loudly in her head. None of them were ever even original. Coffee and…in their little shagpad.

  “That would be really wonderful,” she said. “But I’ve got my dearest friend with me for the weekend, and her daughter too. She’s five years old and, while she might be a bit lively, she’s super cute. Of course I can’t leave them at the hotel on their own, so maybe…?”

  Faye smiled sweetly when she saw the panic spreading on Jaime’s face.

  “Argh, I just remembered that I promised my wife I’d be home for dinner this evening. I’m so very sorry. But I’d be happy to recommend some restaurants to you. Child-friendly ones…”

  “Oh, what a pity, but I’d be most grateful for those recommendations. So sweet of you.”

  Jaime hastily placed cash on the table, stood up, and nodded. He proffered his hand.

  “Be in touch next week.”

  “Yes,” said Faye, shaking his hand.

  She watched him for a long time as he headed toward his office.

  Laughing softly, she checked the time, picked up her bag, and strolled back toward the hotel. The shop she had found on Google while she was still in Sweden was on the way to the hotel. David was going to get another surprise.

  * * *

  —

  David was in the middle of a business call when she arrived back in the room with two large bags in her hands. His face lit up. He gestured to her that he would be finished in five minutes and she blew him a kiss in reply. That meant she had time to prepare the surprise.

  Outside on the big terrace, she whistled as she extracted everything she had bought. In front of her, Madrid’s rooftops spread out into the distance, and she pushed away all her worries and all her thoughts about anything other than being here in a city she loved with a man she loved. She, the woman who had thought she’d never again trust a man. David seemed to be wrapping up his call, and Faye hurried to finish. When he emerged onto the terrace, she turned toward him and gestured at the table with her hands.

  “Tadaaa!”

  “What on earth is all this?” David said, wide-eyed.

  “Since I took you away from Midsummer, I thought I’d bring Midsummer to you. I googled before we arrived and found a shop nearby that sells Swedish stuff. So here’s some herring, knäckebröd, Västerbotten cheese, schnapps, sour cream, chives…well, everything you can think of. The only thing I wasn’t able to arrange was a maypole, but I suppose we’ll have to make do. And look! I’ve made wreaths!”

  She grinned and produced two wreaths that she had quickly assembled with the help of a florist. She placed one on her head and one on David’s. He looked kooky but kind of sexy—an irresistible combination. He put his arms around her and kissed her.

  “You crazy thing. But as per tradition, I propose we start by dancing around the maypole.”

  “What are we waiting for?” said Faye, dragging him toward the bed and humming the melody to “Små grodorna.”

  David had suggested that they go to the VIP lounge, but Faye had insisted on settling down in a small café close to the Real Madrid store so that they could people-watch other travelers.

  Faye loved airports. Barajas in Madrid was no exception. People from all corners of the globe passed by in a steady stream. Every now and then, she caught a word in a language she didn’t recognize. Parents telling off their kids, carrying them, encouraging them, shouting at them. There was an air of expectation. People were going to see their loved ones again or finally take a couple of days’ vacation after months of toil.

  Perhaps her love of airports was because she hadn’t flown until she had been in her twenties.

  Yvonne Ingvarsson’s number flashed on her display and Faye hastily rejected the call.

  When Faye had spoken to Kerstin that morning, she had said that Yvonne had stopped by again—on Midsummer’s Eve, of all days. Faye sighed. She had reached the end of her tether worrying about the policewoman’s investigations, which seemed to be taking place entirely on her own initiative. She had no idea how Yvonne had figured out her past identity, but no one else from the police had contacted her about anything whatsoever to do with Julienne since Jack’s trial. Yvonne clearly hadn’t shared what she’d discovered with any of her colleagues. She was just a petty woman trying to take down someone she was jealous of, and Faye couldn’t worry about her anymore.

  As soon as she got home, Faye was going to deal with her. For good. She and David were going
to move in together, Jack and Gösta would be apprehended before long—she was sure of it—and she was going to get Henrik’s mucky paws off Revenge somehow.

  David was working with intense concentration at his laptop. Occasionally, he took business calls on his phone—always pacing back and forth and making huge gestures as he talked. She loved to see him work. Seeing his focus and his obvious passion for what he did. Sometimes he would pose a quick-fire question without giving any context. He’d ask what she thought about the business potential of using DNA technology in health. Or what impact she thought Brexit would have on the euro. Sometimes she was able to answer, sometimes not. He impressed her on a daily basis with his knowledge, his expertise, his dedication. He was well grounded in a way that Jack never had been.

  Eventually, he shut his laptop and turned to her.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked. “The buyout?”

  “No, no, I’m not thinking about that right now. I’m thinking about…nothing.”

  He picked up a croissant. He took a bite and crumbs fell into his lap. Faye smiled. She was once again struck by how amazing it was that they had found each other.

  “Have you had a chance to glance over my finance proposal, my darling?” David asked, wiping his mouth.

  She shook her head.

  “Not yet.”

  “Okay, I was just curious about what you made of it.”

  “Ylva is going to review all the investors. We should be done soon. I don’t want them to think that I’m giving you any VIP treatment—that wouldn’t look good. You know how it is. And apropos of what I told you yesterday, I’ve got a pressing situation I have to deal with first.”

  David nodded.

  “Of course. That’s true. And you’ve got your priorities completely right. I was just curious what you thought.”

  He averted his gaze, but Faye could see that he was hurt. What did it matter if Ylva went through David’s proposal a little sooner than the others? He was doing everything for her. Why should she stick to these kinds of principles when she could make the man who meant so much to her happy? She trusted him, after all. And even if Revenge’s future looked uncertain right now, there was no harm in thinking ahead.

  Faye put her hand on his thigh.

  “I’ll ask Ylva to expedite your proposal.”

  “There’s no need,” said David. “You’re right—we probably shouldn’t mix things up. And you’ve got more important things to deal with right now.”

  Faye leaned forward and forced him to look her in the eye.

  “You’re a brilliant businessman and I’m nothing but thrilled that you want to help me with Revenge. For me, it helps to do business with people I already know from the start are loyal and on the same page as me. Especially now. I’ve never needed loyalty as much as I do now.”

  David smiled and the furrow on his brow smoothed out. Had he been afraid of being rejected? By her? Maybe, she thought to herself, there was a degree of masculine ego in David that she hadn’t noticed before. Or had ignored. On the other hand, he was a businessman. A winner. Every setback—in business or in life—was a defeat.

  “Sure?” he asked, now as unconcerned as he had been a couple of minutes earlier. He caressed her hand lovingly.

  “Absolutely sure.”

  His grip became firmer and he guided her hand higher up his thigh toward his groin. She felt his penis against the palm of her hand. She cupped it.

  “Do you want me to take care of that?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  They ambled around the airport for a while, hunting for somewhere secluded. They found a handicapped bathroom, looked around, and sneaked in, giggling.

  As soon as they had locked the door, David took command.

  “On your knees,” he said, pointing in front of him.

  He unzipped his fly. She took him in her mouth.

  “Look me in the eye,” he said, and she nodded and opened wide and sucked.

  The floor was hard. Her knees hurt, but Faye liked that. When David came in her mouth, she swallowed while looking up at him.

  Yvonne Ingvarsson’s hair was standing on end and her bloodshot eyes were staring with hostility at Faye. The sound of children shouting in the apartment next door was audible through an open window. There was a dog barking down in the courtyard.

  Faye took pleasure in the police officer’s surprised expression. She waited for Yvonne to speak, but when the policewoman said nothing she decided to take the first step.

  “May I come in?”

  “What are you doing here? How dare you show up at my home!”

  Faye didn’t answer. They continued to size each other up in silence until Yvonne stepped aside. The hallway was dark, with stacks of newspapers, cartons, and bottles stashed against the walls. There was a smell of cigarette smoke and grime. Faye stepped across the mess and set off down the narrow corridor without taking off her shoes. Yvonne stood immobile, her arms at her sides. Judging by her expression, she was seething at the deliberate lack of courtesy, but Faye ignored her.

  She passed a small bedroom and a bathroom before reaching the darkened living room. The blinds were down. The TV was flickering silently. Faye tried a light switch with no luck, so she went to the window and opened the blinds. Light streamed in and revealed the chaos.

  The walls were adorned with pictures of Greece. Turquoise seas and white buildings gleaming in the sun. A framed Mamma Mia! poster had pride of place in the room—just above the sofa.

  Faye’s heart was pounding—she knew that the next few seconds would make or break everything.

  She had to get Yvonne to stop her snooping. She couldn’t be allowed to ruin everything. Faye couldn’t risk it—not now.

  “What are you doing here?” Yvonne asked her again.

  “Does it feel strange?” Faye flashed her a brief but icy smile. “You’ve visited me several times, so now I’m returning the favor.”

  “There’s a difference. I’m a police officer and I’m investigating a crime. It’s my job.”

  Her voice was flat.

  “No. You’re not investigating a crime. My ex-husband was convicted of the crime that you apparently believe I committed. What’s more, you’re off on some sort of one-woman crusade. There’s no investigation. The only place there is one is inside your head. No one else thinks there’s anything to investigate. You’re all on your own, aren’t you?”

  Yvonne didn’t reply.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Yvonne swallowed. Her lips trembled. She was a completely different person here—in her own home—compared with when she had sought Faye out. The surprise seemed to have made her unsure of herself.

  “You’re, what? Fifty-five?”

  “Fifty-nine,” Yvonne replied.

  Silence again. Faye began to get frustrated. Although Yvonne seemed more accommodating, she wasn’t getting through to her. Not properly. Her attitude was apparently to wait and see.

  “What are your dreams?”

  Yvonne shifted her weight to her other foot but remained silent.

  “You’ve worked for many long years. Bad pay. Awful hours. No one thanking you for trying to keep Stockholm safe. No family. After your shifts, you come here to this rathole and watch TV. You like Greece. You’ve got six years left until retirement if they don’t fire you before that since you’re an awkward weirdo, and then you’ll slowly waste away.”

  Faye smacked her lips thoughtfully. “I like awkward weirdos,” she said to herself.

  She glanced at the pictures on the walls and stopped at the Mamma Mia! movie poster again. Pale sand. Turquoise water. A jetty. A yacht in the distance. Happy, smiling people. And suddenly she knew how she could influence Yvonne Ingvarsson. Everyone had their price. And she had just realized what Yvonne’s was.

  FJÄLL
BACKA—THEN

  The wind picked up. I was sitting in the bow, staring into the twilight, clinging to the rail so that I didn’t fall in. If I fell, I would die. The currents would take me and pull me down. My body would probably never be found. It would be an end to the nightmare and the fear. The thought was appealing. But other than the grief I knew it would cause Mom, I also knew I could never do it. The world could be grim and dark, but it could also be bright and beautiful. Like Mom. She was the light. We had to get away.

  There were happy people everywhere. In the papers, on TV, on the radio. I saw their faces, heard their laughter, their stories. The novels I read were filled with them. Some of our neighbors in Fjällbacka seemed happy, even though they lived next door to hell. Our darkness didn’t seem to spill over the garden boundaries. But who knew? I saw only the outside. Just like they saw us only from the outside, through their kitchen windows or the same old chats across the hedge about the lawn.

  I’d had the misfortune to be born into the wrong family. A family that was broken from the beginning. I would have to break free, correct, repair. Mom didn’t have the strength. It was up to me.

  Roger and Tomas wouldn’t keep quiet. They thought I was going to blab. But I knew they would be the ones who bragged about what had happened. Everything I’d kept silent about. Everything that had gone on behind closed doors in our home. The family’s secrets. Everything would emerge. That couldn’t be allowed to happen. Mom wouldn’t survive it. They were her secrets too.

  I pictured the moment when Sebastian had stood by the window. After the rape. During the rape. How his face had looked like Dad’s. It would continue. It would all continue. Suddenly, it was clear to me and I knew I had to act.

  Sebastian? I felt nothing but hatred toward him, but Mom loved him. I would spare him for her sake. Try to, anyway. I couldn’t make any promises. Not any longer. But the others…They were going to die.

  Faye whipped out her mobile and dialed the number for her British lawyer, George Westwood. Her heart was pounding as the phone rang. The stakes were high.