Leona

by Jenny Rogneby

  Fredrik raised his hand.

  “Didn’t Channel 5 make an attempt to investigate some cold cases with the help of a medium on some obscure TV show a few years ago?”

  “Impressions of Murder, yes, that’s correct,” Sören answered. “But contrary to what some believe, the police were not the client, and the agency’s involvement in the series was minimal. When the so-called mediums found leads they were turned in to the police, who registered and processed the information just like any other tip. In a case or two a murder investigation was reopened, but otherwise it produced no great results for the police.”

  “So there wasn’t a single murder that was solved with the help of the mediums?” I asked.

  “That is correct. And that was why I said ‘so-called mediums.’ There are many charlatans in my trade who unfortunately ruin the reputation of the rest of us. The production company contacted me and a few of my serious colleagues, all of whom said no to the program. We thought it didn’t seem serious enough. In retrospect, I’m pleased about that, but unfortunately it meant they got hold of the wrong people for the program, which has damaged the trade. Those of us who take this seriously want to work in the background. Not become celebrities on some advertising-financed reality show. Unfortunately the program has left its mark on people’s general perception of mediums and our ability to actually assist a crime investigation.”

  “So there are no serious experiments in Sweden that suggest using a medium with crime investigations actually produces results?” I asked.

  “You might say so.”

  “This is, in other words, yet another experiment by the agency that the taxpayers will have to pay good money for?”

  I couldn’t keep quiet. The presentation was good but the whole idea was absurd and illogical. Claes stood up and intervened.

  “Other countries have had a greater tradition of using this working method, with varying results. In many places there have been a lot of positive ones. The agency has now decided to test it and we here at VCD are the first in the country to have the opportunity to work with Sören.”

  As usual it was the manager’s task to make every misery seem like an amazing opportunity.

  “The first investigation that Sören will work with is actually the girl robberies that you’re investigating, Leona,” said Claes.

  I stared at him. Of course all this shit would end up on my plate. As if I didn’t have enough to keep track of. Now I would have a charlatan hot on my heels as well. Everyone stared at me as if they were afraid I’d have an outburst. Fredrik rolled his eyes.

  I didn’t bat an eyelid.

  The day continued more or less in a fog. My head ached. When my phone buzzed in my pocket I stuck my hand down and managed to accidentally hit the answer button.

  “Now you damn well better not hang up, Leona. You listen now,” said Christer at the other end.

  Without having the energy to do otherwise I continued to hold the phone to my ear.

  “You haven’t given me any information, Leona; I haven’t received one lousy bit. I’m getting tired of talking to your fucking voice mail. I’ve talked with Nina instead. Told her about you. She knows everything now and we, Nina and I, are going to put you away together. Do you get that?”

  He hung up. I knew, of course, that he’d told Nina. But I had a hard time believing that Nina would be involved in putting me away. I picked up the phone and called Nina, and asked what she actually said to Christer when they met.

  “It’s all fine, Leona; I’ll take care of him. I have it under control. I have to go, they’re calling us into court. We’ve just been on a break.”

  I hung up. Had she sounded a little strange? I was uncertain. I’d have to be extremely watchful of Nina’s actions.

  SIXTY-FOUR

  After the day’s surreal introduction to the supernatural it was a relief to hurry away to day care to pick up the kids. They’d learned a new song and in the car sang loudly about blueberries, small berries, and a big fruit store.

  Ringvägen was full of cars — rush hour — but the traffic flowed nicely. I reached for my phone, which was vibrating on the dashboard.

  “Mother, I’m in the car on my way home with the kids, but you can talk.”

  “It’s been a long time since we saw them. You’ll have to come here and have dinner again soon.”

  “Hmmm…”

  I didn’t plan to do that. The kids continued singing in the backseat.

  “You’ll have to be quiet now, Grandma’s on the phone.”

  The children fell silent after a few happy shouts to Grandma.

  “I’ve spoken with your father and we’ve agreed to loan you the money.”

  “That’s nice to hear, Mother. We’re very happy about that.”

  “We have even decided to loan you a little more than you asked for. I’ve transferred 350,000 kronor to your account today. But it probably won’t appear until tomorrow because you don’t use the same reliable bank that your father and I do.”

  I ignored the dig. The money was the essential thing.

  “The most important thing is that Benjamin gets the operation he needs, Leona. Just make sure it’s a good doctor and surgeon. Your father wants to know what clinic it is so he can check up on them. You never know when it’s outside the country like that.”

  My heart started to beat faster. Typical of them to assume that health care would be worse simply because it wasn’t Swedish doctors at a Swedish clinic.

  “We got a recommendation for them from Karolinska.”

  “You can never be too careful.”

  I knew that her prattle about it being important that Benji got a good doctor didn’t mean she cared about me, or Benji. Everything was about control. They would show that they knew best, and that I ought to adapt to their wisdom. It was time to hang up.

  “We’ll be in touch later. The kids are tearing apart the backseat.”

  Mother didn’t have time to say goodbye before I ended the call.

  “Now you can keep singing back there as loud as you want. Why don’t you teach me the song too?”

  They both started hollering happily in the backseat. Beatrice sang a phrase and I tried to sing it back. Both laughed loudly when I sang the wrong words. I enjoyed hearing them laugh. By the time we got inside the door I had learned it. All of us sang while our jackets, caps, and shoes flew off.

  “Daddy, Daddy, Mommy knows it now,” Beatrice called, running into the living room where Peter was sitting.

  It was unusual that he was home so early. He got up out of the armchair and looked right at me. He was red-eyed. His eyelids were swollen. I stopped.

  “Kids, run into your rooms, I’m going to talk with Daddy.”

  Beatrice jumped away with Benjamin close behind.

  “Has someone died?” I said.

  The only time I had seen Peter cry was when his father passed away six years ago. He could get upset, but never like that.

  “Leona,” he said.

  “Yes, what’s happened?”

  “I want a divorce.”

  SIXTY-FIVE

  I spent the night on the couch in the living room. In the morning I quickly put away the sheets before the children woke up. My eyes still felt as if someone had poured gravel in them. Tried to blink it away. I didn’t expend any great amount of time or energy on analyzing Peter’s initiative yesterday. On an emotional level it was of minor significance to me that he wanted a divorce. I was no longer exerting myself to be the Leona he was used to. I saw no point in that. From Peter’s point of view it was obvious that I’d changed. He felt I’d become a different person. Someone other than the one he had married. In a way, that was true.

  I had expected that he would want a divorce. I had hoped, however, that it wouldn’t come so soon.

  I needed him.

  For a little longer.

  Claes and the medium were already seated at the round meeting table in Claes’s office. I was two minutes late. Looked for a d
ecent office chair but was forced to sit on the remaining chair at the table.

  That the department had forced me to work with an outsider without informing me about who it was or what the collaboration would look like irritated me. It was the Police Department in a nutshell.

  “Since I don’t know how this is supposed to work I think I’ll lean back and listen to your plan for how it will be structured, Claes.”

  I looked at Claes, who was occupied with browsing through some papers. I turned to the medium.

  “Do you have authorization to use our computer system so you can do your own searches on people and read the case files? Are you going to work independently, or will we have regular meetings? What about confidentiality?”

  The medium looked at Claes.

  “The idea is that he will work together with you, and you have access to our registers. He has no authorization of his own. Obviously he has signed a confidentiality agreement.”

  “And the information that you’re going to, um…see…in your visions,” I said. “Will you communicate that directly to me, or what?”

  Perhaps this would be simpler than I thought. No point in assuming the worst.

  “In order to be able to see at all I’m going to need to follow you in your daily work,” said the medium.

  I looked quickly at Claes.

  “I hope you’ve mentioned the fact that I work extremely independently.”

  “Leona, this is an order from above,” said Claes. “A pilot project. Everyone is eager for it to have a positive outcome. It’s crucial for both of you to create a functioning method of working and maintain a pleasant work environment.”

  “Excuse me, but I’m noticing that the two of you haven’t talked this through,” said the medium. “Perhaps I should come back tomorrow when you’ve had time to discuss the matter?”

  I respected him for backing off. It wasn’t his fault that management within the agency failed to form competent plans for their projects.

  “Sören, I hope you understand that this has nothing to do with you,” I said. “I’m used to working in a certain way and, well, this came as a big surprise. I wish that someone” — I looked at Claes — “had prepared me for it.”

  There had been plenty of opportunities for Claes to let me know what was happening, but instead he had chosen to bring it up at yesterday’s squad meeting, when the guy was already in place.

  “I think your suggestion is good,” I said. “If it’s okay with you, Claes and I will talk about this tomorrow and then we’ll contact you on Wednesday.”

  Claes intervened.

  “Sören, I apologize for Leona’s behavior.”

  He turned back to me.

  “This is not open for discussion, Leona. You’ll have to put up with —”

  “Claes, I insist,” said Sören. “I think you should talk about this without me. I understand Leona’s reaction. Contact me sometime tomorrow, then we’ll talk further about what comes next. I’ll ask Anette to show me out.”

  “As you wish,” said Claes. “Again, I apologize.”

  Sören left the room. Claes closed the door behind him and turned quickly to me.

  “What the hell makes you tick, Leona? You’re embarrassing both me and the agency. And what’s with the face? You look like you’ve been on a weeklong bender.”

  “What were you all thinking when you decided to bring a medium into my investigation? Did you think it would help conjure up a better work method? Along with all the other hocus-pocus you seem to be putting your faith in? I had to pinch myself on the arm when I heard.”

  “I can agree with you that this is, well, a somewhat odd move by the agency, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s here now.”

  “And whose idea was it that he should work with my case?”

  “Don’t make a big deal of this, Leona.”

  “It was you, wasn’t it?”

  “They wanted a current case without a suspect.”

  “Think of what will happen when the media gets wind of this. They’re going to laugh at us. I can already see the headlines. ‘Police Agency Can’t Solve Crimes — Hires Charlatans.’ The taxpayers are going to wonder what the hell they’re paying for.”

  “The idea is that we should all keep a low profile about Sören being here. If anyone asks, we’re not going to make a statement.”

  I could hardly keep from laughing. The whole thing was ridiculous. How naive was it to think that the press wouldn’t ferret this out?

  “Look at the bright side. If you solve this in cooperation with Sören and he actually manages to produce something, then you get all the glory. No outsider is going to know that we worked with a medium. You’ll be seen as one of Sweden’s sharpest investigators.”

  “And what advantage would that give me?”

  “You should not underestimate glory and renown, Leona. That’s what we all live for. You’ll need to take Sören out for a coffee and cake or something. It’s your job to make sure he’s comfortable. He’s going to write an evaluation of his work here and I don’t want to read a word about lack of cooperation or distrust of him as a medium.”

  I shook my head.

  “I’m serious, Leona. This is important for both you and me. I’ll have to take measures if you don’t resolve this.”

  “Is that a threat or what?”

  “See it as a promise. If it turns out that you refuse to cooperate, I will have no other choice. Don’t think I’d hesitate to transfer you. Now beat it and get to work.”

  Claes waved one hand as if fanning would make me disappear. I got up and started for the door.

  “And listen, see about making yourself presentable, damn it,” he called after me. “You look like a wreck.”

  SIXTY-SIX

  Trying to get a parking space in Vasastan involved constant circling until a car finally pulled out. Then it was crucial to take the space quickly before someone else did.

  After circling around Sankt Eriksplan and searching on Tomtebogatan and Birkagatan I finally lucked out with a spot on Bråvallagatan, across from Nina’s entrance. I’d tried to reach her the whole day to tell her that we had an occultist breathing down our necks. Thought it was just as easy to stop by on the way home and tell her. It was already eight o’clock, so she should be home.

  I parked and looked up at her window. There were lights on. I opened the car door and got out. Realized I’d left my bag on the passenger seat and leaned in again on the driver’s side. Just as I was reaching for the bag, I saw a familiar person walking up the sidewalk on the other side of the street. I followed him with my eyes. When his entire body was visible between the parked cars I recognized the clumsy gait. Was it really him? The gray cap and the collar on the dark parka concealed part of his face. I couldn’t be completely certain. Without taking my eyes off him I got back in the car and pulled the door closed. He stopped outside Nina’s entrance and tossed the cigarette he’d been smoking. Before he went up to the door he turned toward the street to step on the butt. Then I saw his face clearly.

  It was him.

  Christer Skoog.

  I turned cold. What business did he have with Nina? I knew that he didn’t live in Vasastan. That he would have an acquaintance living in the same building as Nina was too unbelievable. He entered the code and disappeared into the entrance.

  I stayed in the car. Tried to think clearly. Could it be true what he had said, that he and Nina…? I thought back. Nina had said that she met Christer at Hotel Amaranten as planned. She had also said that I shouldn’t worry about him. That she had him under control. I picked up the phone and entered Nina’s number. She answered after four rings.

  “Nina, it’s me. I’d like to go through a few things that have come up. I thought about stopping by, are you at home?”

  “Uh…no. Mother has fallen ill so I’m at her place. I’ll probably be here all evening. Was it something important?”

  It was obvious that she was lying. There were lights on in her plac
e, and now I could even see shadows of people in the apartment.

  “It’ll keep. Take care of your mother now and we’ll deal with it later.”

  My thoughts were buzzing. I tried to get a handle on what had just happened. Nina had just lied that she was with her sick mother when in reality she was at home in her apartment with Christer Skoog, who had said on the phone that the two of them were going to put me away.

  I placed my arms and forehead against the steering wheel. Closed my eyes. It was as if all the energy had drained out of me. My whole body became heavy. I tried to get rid of the stifling sensation in my chest by taking a few deep breaths. The sound from the cars outside had changed to a diffuse, dull rumble. All the obstacles and difficulties I had run into so far felt small compared to what I faced now. Christer was a greedy journalist who would do anything to get what he wanted. He had apparently managed to bring Nina over to his side. I’d hoped it would be possible to keep him in check by supplying him with a little information now and then. I had misjudged him. Now he’d become too great a problem for me to handle. I couldn’t let that continue.

  It had gone too far.

  Something drastic had to be done.

  Nina was a total disappointment. Even though I had been on my guard with her, I had thought she understood my message. That if I go to prison, she goes with me. But Christer Skoog had presumably given her a better offer than me. Now I was alone. Abandoned to a situation that had become harder to handle than I ever imagined.

  I slowly opened my eyes and looked out over the hood of the car onto the street. People were moving as usual outside, but for me, everything had changed.

  Images flickered in my head. Memories of the first robbery, which had started as a fleeting thought and transformed into a complete, definite plan. How liberating it had been to finally do something about the feeling of imprisonment that was eating me up from inside. Fighting to be true to myself. I couldn’t back out now. When I saw the stressed people walking by outside the car I was once again reminded of the meaninglessness of the life I was living.