Silver Tears

Home > Other > Silver Tears > Page 24
Silver Tears Page 24

by Camilla Lackberg


  “What do you feel?” she asked.

  Faye thought about this for a bit.

  “Nothing, actually. You?”

  Ylva swallowed, then looked at Faye.

  “The same.”

  When they reached the highway, they passed four fire engines going the other way at high speed, their sirens blaring.

  The morning sun shone through the window of Alice’s guest room. It illuminated Ylva, who was holding Nora in her arms. The little girl had just woken up and was rubbing her eyes sleepily.

  “Are you okay?” Faye asked, putting her head around the door. She had spent the night wide awake on one of Alice’s sofas.

  She looked searchingly at Ylva.

  “I’m okay,” Ylva said, but her words and tone were contradicted by her viselike grip on Nora.

  “We did what we had to do.”

  “Yes, I know,” said Ylva.

  She buried her nose in Nora’s hair and closed her eyes. Her daughter’s chubby little arms were wrapped tightly around her neck.

  Alice came into the room, looked at them, and smiled.

  “Breakfast is served.”

  When they had returned home during the night, Faye had told Alice everything. That hadn’t been easy either. Naturally Alice had been very shocked.

  Faye’s phone rang and she hit the green button when she saw who it was.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” she said when Julienne’s face filled the small display. “I can’t talk right now, I’ll call you later. But I’ll be home soon. I promise. Really, really soon. Kiss kiss! Love you!”

  “Okay, Mommy, bye!”

  She hung up.

  “Does she miss you?” said Ylva. Nora blinked her eyes slowly. She was at the point of falling asleep again in Ylva’s arms.

  “Yes,” Faye said briefly.

  She didn’t feel up to talking about Julienne right now. Jack was gone. Forever. And no matter how much she had hated him, how much she realized that there had been no place for him in Julienne’s life, she was still grieving. For the fact that Julienne would go through life without a dad.

  The guilt was a heavy burden on her shoulders. Not because she had killed him, but because she had picked so poorly. But without Jack she would never have had Julienne. It was a mental equation she found hard to balance. She just wished she still had that picture in the plastic wallet. It had been her talisman, giving her strength and reminding her of what was important. But it was gone, just like Jack.

  “What’s the next step?” Alice said.

  She looked strong and decisive.

  Faye looked at Nora, at her soft eyelids and her long eyelashes.

  She was so similar to Jack sometimes.

  “We need to use the video and photo evidence. It’s time for Ylva’s plan B.”

  Alice smiled.

  “You mean we’re going to turn the screws on Eyvind?”

  “Yes, we need those papers from the Patent and Registration Office.”

  “It needs to be the right papers and they have to be worded the right way,” Ylva said, cradling Nora in her arms. “I’ve done a spec of exactly what we need.”

  Alice smiled again.

  “When he sees the pictures and the footage, I guarantee he’ll do everything we ask. Otherwise we’ll send it all to his wife.”

  “Good,” said Faye.

  She looked at Nora again; she had fallen asleep against Ylva’s shoulder. She looked just like Julienne when she was asleep. For a moment, Faye wanted to cry. For Julienne. For Nora. For Ylva. For herself. For them all.

  FJÄLLBACKA—THEN

  By the slimmest of margins, I managed to do it all. I fetched the bag from the corner, got on my front under the bed, and pulled out a new beer, opened it, and emptied the powder into it before Sebastian returned.

  I passed the new bottle to him. He accepted it without a word, then sat down on the bed and raised it to his lips. He took a big swig.

  He was still cautious—as if he couldn’t believe that I had suddenly given in and was going to let him sleep with me without putting up a fight.

  “Could you change the music?”

  “What?”

  Now I needed to get him to drink the rest of the beer, to keep him away from me for as long as possible. The mere thought of what I might have to do with him made me want to vomit.

  “Maybe Metallica?”

  He nodded. Got up, went to the stereo, took out the CD, and ran his finger along the row of CD cases until he found Metallica. He inserted the disk and pressed play. He turned the volume up slightly.

  Then he stood in front of me.

  “I need to be more drunk,” I said. “I know what we’re going to do is wrong, but I can’t help liking it.”

  “Let’s play catch-up,” he said.

  I smiled.

  “Good idea.”

  I tipped my head back and we downed our beers simultaneously. I held my breath to avoid the taste. I gasped when I had finished it all. Sebastian wiped his mouth. He looked at me hungrily and an unpleasant shiver ran through my body. How long would it take before the tablets took effect?

  “Have you got any porn magazines?” I asked.

  I knew he had a stash. Sometimes he kept them behind the radiator, sometimes under the mattress. He turned and stuck his hand under the mattress.

  He passed me a magazine. The cover showed a woman with enormous boobs parting her legs for the camera. Her pussy was shaved.

  I opened the magazine and leafed through it.

  “What do you like? Is there anything you want me to do?” I said, my gaze firmly fixed on the magazine. Anything to delay, to give the sleeping tablets time to take effect.

  He shrugged.

  “There must be something you like more than other things?”

  “I don’t know,” he said quietly.

  “I’d like bigger boobs. Don’t guys like big tits?”

  Sebastian didn’t answer.

  I carried on turning the pages.

  “If you’d said you liked being with me, I would never have let them touch you,” he muttered.

  I looked up from the magazine. He didn’t meet my gaze.

  That’s a lie, I thought to myself. You would never have stood up for me. You’re too much of a coward.

  Instead, I said: “I know.”

  “That means it’s my fault they’re dead.”

  You’re right, I thought to myself. And soon you’ll be dead too. I’m never going to shed a tear for you. Because I know what an awful, cowardly excuse for a human being you are. You’re never going to ruin anyone else’s life.

  “Don’t think about that now.”

  Sebastian yawned and his eyelids fluttered. He leaned back, resting against the wall. His eyelids began to close.

  “Lie down,” I said. “And I’ll make you feel good.”

  I closed the porn mag and put it aside. I crept closer to him and put the pillow under his head. Sebastian already seemed to be asleep, so I curled up next to him and contemplated his peaceful face.

  I lay still for a while to make sure the tablets had definitely taken effect. When I was certain that he was deeply asleep, I got up from the bed carefully and went to his desk. There was already a sheet of paper in his typewriter, so all I had to do was type up a suicide note in which Sebastian said that he missed his two friends and felt so guilty that he hadn’t been able to save them. Since I was a better writer than he was, I kept the language simple and made a few deliberate spelling errors. It took some time, since I was using two of his lighters on the keyboard in case anyone dusted for prints.

  I left the letter where it was so that whoever came into the room would quickly find it.

  And then it was time for the heavy lifting.

  Moving mechanically, I went
to the wardrobe, opened the door, and found a belt. I remembered to position the chair. I lay down behind Sebastian with my legs on either side of his body, put the belt around his neck, and pulled. It was hard. Harder than I’d expected.

  I stood up on the bed, pulled harder, bracing my legs. His face went blue. He gasped for air. But his eyes remained shut.

  I carried on pulling with all my might for at least five minutes before I finally let go. Then I reached out with one hand and touched his neck. No pulse. No life.

  The body really was heavy. I squatted on the floor and slowly dragged him across the room. Once there, I heaved him onto the chair under the pull-up bar. I struggled to attach the belt to the bar. Then I kicked the chair so that it fell onto the floor. Sebastian was left hanging loose-limbed from the belt.

  I looked around the room. What had I missed? I had run Sebastian’s fingertips over the bag I’d kept the sleeping tablets in, to make sure it had his prints on it. No one would suspect me. Suicide would be the logical consequence of the difficult summer Sebastian had dealt with after two of his best friends had died.

  I looked around the room one last time before taking my beer bottle with me and padding back to my own room. I considered going outside to throw it away, but settled for hiding it under the bed.

  I lay awake until six o’clock in the morning, reading, thinking, and trying to decide whether I had a guilty conscience. I didn’t. Not one bit.

  At around six, I heard Dad’s footsteps on the landing. He must have noticed Sebastian’s open door as he was heading for the bathroom, because he came to a halt. A second later I heard him cry out.

  The first part of my plan had been completed. It had been relatively easy to execute. Now all I had to do was save Mom.

  “Is it morning at home?”

  Faye nodded. Kerstin looked rested. Happy. That pleased Faye. In the middle of all the chaos that reigned, Kerstin’s happiness brought her hope.

  Kerstin’s face came closer to the screen. The fine lines around her eyes were visible. The concern in those eyes warmed Faye’s heart.

  “Are you okay?” Kerstin asked.

  “You know what? I actually am. I’ve learned my lesson. I’m never going to hand over power to anyone else again. Never going to be vulnerable.”

  “You can’t promise that. I don’t want you to promise that. We all have to be a little bit vulnerable.”

  Faye sighed and thought about Julienne. The future she wanted to give her daughter.

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right. But it’ll be a while. I’m not sure I can cope with having my heart broken any more times.”

  Kerstin suddenly laughed—the warm laugh that was always such an unexpected pleasure.

  “Stop being such a drama queen, Faye. You’re stronger than that, you know it. It’s not like you to feel sorry for yourself. There are a lot of us who love you. And you may have lost the battle, but you’ll win the war. Never forget that.”

  “I haven’t won yet.”

  Kerstin placed a hand on the screen and Faye could almost feel the caress on her cheek.

  “No, but you will win. Call me as soon as it’s over.”

  “I promise. Kiss kiss. Miss you.”

  “I miss you too.”

  Faye ended the FaceTime call on her computer. She realized she was smiling, despite the tension she felt about what was to come. She missed Kerstin, but it was wonderful to see how happy she was with Bengt in Mumbai.

  She reached for her mobile and called Ylva.

  “Hi, Faye, I was about to call you.”

  Ylva’s tense voice made her pulse race so much that it pounded in her ears.

  “Is the investment done?”

  “Yes, the wife is in on it. The investment is secured.”

  “God, what a relief!”

  Faye shut her eyes. Her pulse slowed down and for the first time in ages she felt the feeling of pleasurable expectation spreading through her. The final piece of the puzzle was in place.

  She looked at her reflection in the mirror and applied a bright red lipstick. Then she folded the white Max Mara coat over her arm, picked up her Louis Vuitton briefcase with her other hand, and left her suite. She had checked back into the Grand. She felt safer there after everything that had happened. It was on the borderline between walking distance and taxi distance, but she decided to opt for a pair of her comfiest heels and walk. She needed the fresh air to gather her thoughts.

  Beside the quays the water sparkled. It was a perfect day. The sun was shining and there wasn’t even the slightest breeze rippling the waters around Stockholm. She smiled at the people she passed.

  Then she came to a sudden stop. Something at the corner of her eye had caught her attention. She turned toward the big window of an art gallery. A female bust with tears of silver. Faye was entranced by the sculpture. She put her hand to her breast where the charm given to her by her mother so many years ago had hung. Before it had disappeared during those dark days on Yxön island.

  She moved closer. The artist was called Caroline Tamm. Faye checked the time and then went inside.

  “I’d like to buy the sculpture in the window. The one in silver.”

  “Don’t you want to know what it costs first?” said the woman sitting at the table inside in a tone of surprise.

  “No,” Faye said, handing over her Amex Black. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. I’ll pay now, but please send the sculpture to this address.”

  Faye handed over her business card.

  While the card was being processed, Faye went to the sculpture and examined it from the other direction. The tears streaked across the face and fanned out into the air behind the head like wings, transforming sorrow into flight. It symbolized strength like nothing else she had ever seen. It symbolized the new. When she had thought she was going to lose Revenge to Henrik, she had felt as if she had waxen wings that had melted because she had dared to fly too close to the sun. Now she felt like she could fly as high as she wanted. With her wings of silver.

  When the gallery door closed behind her, Faye knew she was ready.

  * * *

  —

  Faye put her head back and studied the beautiful nineteenth-century façades. When she had first arrived in Stockholm from Fjällbacka, she had been wide-eyed at all the beautiful old buildings. Now, almost twenty years later, she was rich enough to buy a whole block of the city. It was a strange feeling.

  She shifted her gaze to the left, toward Stureplan and Biblioteksgatan, where the nightclub known as Buddha Bar had once been. She remembered that enchanting summer night in 2001 when she had met a lovely, kind boy called Viktor. Too kind, she had thought back then. How might her life have looked if she hadn’t chosen Jack? If she’d let Viktor live and killed Jack instead?

  She looked up toward the window again. Up there on the fifth floor, David was waiting. And Henrik. Each in a separate office.

  Alice and Ylva had texted to say that everything was in place and that neither of the men had seen the other arrive. The scene was set. Faye tried to make out what she was feeling—whether she was nervous, angry, or upset.

  But no, deep down she felt only happiness. Wild, pure happiness. Everything might have been so much worse if she hadn’t had Ylva and Alice in her life. They had saved her. They had saved each other.

  She keyed in the door code and waited for the elevator. A little while later, she passed between the empty desks in Revenge’s open-plan office, taking delight in the smell of freshly brewed coffee. The lights were on in the conference room. She saw the back of David’s neck and his broad shoulders as he chatted to Ylva and Alice. Alice’s smiling mouth was moving, but the thick glass door deadened any attempt to hear what the conversation was about.

  Faye opened the door and David turned around and saw her. He stood up and held out his arms to embrace her.


  “My darling, finally. I’ve missed you so much,” he said. “Frankfurt was awful without you.”

  Faye walked past him without looking at him, pulled out a chair at the head of the table, and sat down.

  She crossed her legs.

  “Faye…what? What’s going on?” he asked in surprise.

  The smile on Alice’s face was gone. She gave him a hostile stare. David seemed to notice the atmosphere in the room had changed.

  “I’ve brought you here today to introduce you to our new investors,” Faye began, stretching out her hand toward Ylva and taking a folder from her.

  Faye opened it, examined the papers inside, and nodded.

  “Yes, you may wonder what I meant by that, given that I’m no longer in control of Revenge. Partly thanks to information you passed to Henrik. But he’s right here in the room next door. And believe me, Revenge will soon be mine again. If I were you, I’d take care to avoid being associated with Henrik Bergendahl in the future. You’ll soon understand why. But until then, I think this says it all.”

  She placed the uppermost document on the table and pushed it across to David, who shuddered.

  “This…I can explain,” he stammered.

  Faye snorted.

  “You’re not going to explain anything. You’re going to listen.”

  For the first time, she fixed her eyes on him. She pushed three sheets of paper stapled together toward him. The heading said Joint petition for divorce and the names on the paperwork were David Schiller and Johanna Schiller.

  “This is for you to sign.”

  “But what’s this? I’ve been trying to get this divorce through for months. You know that.”

  Faye burst out laughing. Alice and Ylva chimed in. David looked from one to the other with his mouth hanging open.

  “My dear, it’s all over. You’ve spent your life deceiving women. That’s finished. Trying to buy your way into Revenge with your wife’s money while claiming you were in the middle of a divorce was…creative. And then covering yourself by feeding business secrets about the American expansion to Henrik.” Faye nodded to the first document she had given to David. “I’ll give you this, you’re not lazy. But it’s over now. Do you understand? You should be happy to avoid prison.”

 

‹ Prev