This was new to me.
‘She didn’t confess to any of the murders?’
‘Nope. Not that we thought that was strange. We certainly didn’t have enough to hold her, so we had to let her go. A colleague who was on his way home from work saw her leave Police Headquarters. He said she was crying like a baby.’
‘Doesn’t sound all that strange,’ I said.
‘Of course not,’ Didrik said. ‘But then the Yanks got in touch again. They’d received an anonymous email that we helped them to trace. The IP address led us to Sara.’
I waited for him to go on. The fact that the Americans had received an anonymous email didn’t feel all that exciting. The girl with Mr Charisma looked at me and smiled broadly when her date dropped his fork and leaned over to pick it up. I smiled back quickly. Sorted: I wanted her, she wanted me. Now all we had to do was arrange the practicalities.
‘An email,’ I said, to let Didrik know I was listening.
‘An email,’ he repeated. ‘Sent from Sara’s computer. Can you guess what it contained?’
‘No idea.’
‘A description of where the police could find the knife used in the Galveston murder.’
‘Let me guess,’ I interrupted. ‘It was in a shoebox that had been hidden in a swamp in Florida.’
‘Nice try, but wrong. It was in a plastic bag.’
‘Plastic bag, shoebox – who cares?’
‘In Sara Texas’s storage locker up in the attic.’
So there was compelling evidence pointing to Sara’s guilt. Of course I’d known that all along, but it still felt dispiriting to have it confirmed. That’s what happens to those of us who are always looking for the ultimate high. We often end up disappointed.
For a moment I had to check my own motives for getting involved in a dead woman’s eventual culpability for five murders. Could it simply be that I was bored? God knows, I’d done some pretty peculiar things in the past to liven up everyday life. And even though several years had passed, I was still in shock at the way my life had changed since Belle came to live with me.
But this time it was different, I told myself. I wasn’t just bored and out for an adrenalin kick. There were a lot of things about Sara’s case that appealed to me. It had been the same when she was still alive, too. I hadn’t been lying on the radio when I said that I would have liked to be her defence lawyer. The simple fact that the case had such a clear connection to Texas made my pulse-rate increase. I could still remember all the smells and colours I associated with my time in the state. I remembered the countless hours I spent in my car, driving all over the rugged landscape in an effort to see as much of it as possible. I had the car radio on at full blast, and I learned to love country music. That was my farewell tour, my farewell to the USA. And to my dad. There are some parental betrayals that we learn to live with, and there are those that we never get over. My dad’s was the latter sort.
‘I don’t know what I could have done differently,’ he had said as I stood and packed the car.
That was the first time I hit another person. Bang, right in the jaw, and he slumped to the ground. Then I slammed the boot shut and drove away. I left him lying in a cloud of sand and exhaust fumes. Once upon a time he had left my mum on her own with a small child. And he claimed he didn’t know what he could have done differently.
He died six months later. Neither Marianne nor I attended his funeral.
‘I can see I’ve managed to sow a few doubts,’ Didrik said, interrupting my thoughts.
I took a few deep swigs of my beer.
‘Not at all,’ I said. ‘It was obvious that you had evidence against her. It’s a bit odd that she brought the murder weapon home from the US, though.’
‘I’m not sure the word “odd” really has any place in this context. I mean, we’re talking about a serial killer here.’
I laughed. Didrik could be quite funny, in spite of his strict adherence to the facts.
He went on: ‘Martin, she knew all the victims. Can you explain a coincidence like that to me?’
‘I don’t have to. Let’s talk about that email instead. What was your theory? That Sara was suddenly struck by such terrible remorse that she emailed the police in Texas after she’d been called in for questioning that first time?’
‘We’re never going to get an answer to that, and to be honest I don’t really care,’ Didrik said firmly. ‘The email came from a laptop we seized in her flat. The knife was in her storage-space in the attic, no one else had access to it. An attic that turned out to be an absolute goldmine when we went through it more systematically in conjunction with the full search of her home.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. We found the belt that was used in the third murder, her first one here in Sweden. You remember, she strangled an ICA-supermarket cashier. And we also found traces of arsenic.’
I frowned.
‘Which victim was she supposed to have poisoned?’
‘The fifth.’
I put my beer bottle down.
‘I’d like the whole of the report from the preliminary investigation.’
‘No problem, it’s in the public domain seeing as the charges were actually filed.’
‘I’d like to see the slops as well.’
Didrik’s face clouded over.
‘Of course.’
His mobile rang and he quickly pulled it out of his jacket pocket. I made use of the break by getting eye contact with the girl I’d been cruising. She got up from her chair and smiled apologetically at her date. It was a polite but strained smile. Nothing like the one she fired off at me as she passed our table on the way to the ladies’ room.
I saw Didrik chuckle as I slid out of my chair and followed her. She looked surprised but happy when I opened the door to the ladies’ bathroom and walked in.
‘Well, hello, you’re not allowed to be in here,’ said another woman who was washing her hands in the basin.
‘I’m not, am I?’ I said. ‘Why don’t you go into the men’s room and say the same thing to the women using the toilets in there.’
Now, I hadn’t actually been inside the men’s room first, so I didn’t honestly know if there were any women in there. But there usually were, and I thought that was justification enough for what I said. Not that I cared. The idea of separate toilet facilities for men and women feels ridiculously old-fashioned.
The woman washing her hands didn’t answer. She just finished up as quickly as possible and left the room.
‘Alone at last,’ I said to my prey, as if I’d been waiting all evening for this.
She giggled.
‘We aren’t,’ she said.
‘Sorry, we aren’t what?’
‘Alone.’
She gestured with her foot towards the row of toilets. They were all occupied. She was wearing extremely expensive shoes with very high heels. And she knew how to walk properly in them.
‘I’ve already got a date,’ she said.
Sorry, love, it’s too late to play hard to get, I thought.
‘He doesn’t seem to be terribly entertaining,’ I said.
She laughed loudly. Brilliant white teeth and eyes that were clouded with alcohol. The fact that she could still walk in those shoes was impressive.
‘True,’ she said. ‘I’d go so far as to say he’s pretty boring. I work with him, he asked me out.’
I took a few steps forward, standing shamelessly close to her. She didn’t move.
‘You deserve better,’ I whispered in her ear as I heard someone flush one of the toilets.
I put one hand gently on her backside.
‘Do you want to go home alone, or would you like company?’ I said.
14
There must be at least a million books about the noble art of picking up women. I can’t really see why. I mean, it’s so easy, as long as you go for the right women. One minute later I was back with Didrik. He shook his head.
‘I don’t know how you find th
e time and energy,’ he said.
‘Watch and learn. You’ve got potential, after all.’
‘Why, thank you, very good of you to say so.’
Neither of us felt much like hanging around. We’d already done what we needed to, and I assumed that Didrik would be heading home to his wife. I called home to make sure that the au pair was able to stay until ten. She could. I had a word with Belle and said goodnight. I felt a pang of conscience in my chest as I put my phone away. I hoped Belle never had to understand the way I lived. Never ran into a man with the same lifestyle as me.
‘Before we leave, give me an idea of what you’ve got in mind,’ Didrik said once I’d tucked my bank card next to the bill. ‘If Sara Texas was innocent, then who killed all those people?’
‘It’s the police’s responsibility to answer that question,’ I said. ‘As far as I’m concerned, the question is more: if Sara Texas was innocent, why did she lie and say she was the murderer?’
Didrik sighed.
‘Because she was mentally ill?’
‘Wrong. Because she was frightened, or because she was protecting someone. Or both.’
‘You think someone was threatening her? Ridiculous. Absurd.’
I remembered what my client told me in prison that afternoon.
You won’t forget Maja, will you? She’s the person this is all about. You do get that, don’t you?
My client’s words merged with what Sara’s brother Bobby told me when I made it clear I wasn’t going to try to find Sara’s son, Mio.
It’s all connected. You’ll see. It’s all part of the same story.
Those words caught in my mouth as I formulated my next question.
‘Didrik, what happened to the little boy? What happened to Mio?’
Didrik looked at me intently.
‘We don’t know, but I’m afraid we believe his mother killed him before she committed suicide.’
‘So why haven’t you found him?’ I said. ‘Why wasn’t he with her when she died?’
‘I can’t answer that. What are you insinuating? That someone else took the boy?’
I didn’t know what to say, so I kept quiet. My thoughts weren’t ready yet, my conclusions not yet formulated. But I was beginning to suspect that Bobby was right. There was a risk that Mio had been to Sara what my client’s sister was for him. A hostage.
‘Where was the boy while Sara was in custody?’
‘With foster parents.’
‘Who was his father?’
‘Don’t know. No one had acknowledged paternity, anyway. Sara claimed he was a stranger she’d met in a bar.’
‘How did she die?’
‘Sara? That was in the papers. She pulled a real classic. She jumped off Västerbron.’
Naturally, I’d read that in the papers. But I liked forcing Didrik to tell me.
‘Were there witnesses?’
I hadn’t read anything about that in the papers.
‘An elderly man on a bike saw her throw herself over the railing. If you’re wondering if she was murdered, the answer is no. The old boy said she was alone. So she didn’t have the boy with her.’
The waitress came back with the receipt and my card. My recently recruited date glanced attentively at me. Are you leaving? she seemed to be asking. I nodded imperceptibly. She’d have to find some way of ditching her tedious date, because I didn’t fancy a three-way.
‘Bastard,’ Didrik said.
‘You’re just jealous.’
‘I suppose so.’
We gathered our things and made our way towards the door.
‘Did you follow up any other leads?’ I said. ‘She seems to have had both a very persistent boyfriend and a father who didn’t want to let go of her.’
‘You’ve got that from Bobby, of course. Well, we certainly looked into it. But believe me, we didn’t find a damn thing.’
‘What about those things her friend Jenny sent over? The diary and train ticket?’
‘No value as evidence. Sara could prove she was in Galveston at the time of the murder there. She never acknowledged the diary.’
We parted on the pavement with the usual pleasantries about having to meet up again soon.
‘Get in touch if you need any more information,’ Didrik said. ‘I’d be happy to help you stick to the facts in this case. It’s easy to get lost when you start looking into Sara Tell’s past. If you keep a cool head, you’ll find that this case dies of natural causes quicker than it takes you to make that bird come.’
I laughed.
‘This evening, then. Well, so far you haven’t managed to convince me that Sara was guilty.’
Didrik looked genuinely concerned. From the corner of my eye I saw the young woman walk out with her date. He gave her a feeble hug and then walked away. A real loser. Tragic.
She was standing a short distance away, waiting for me.
‘One last thing,’ I said. ‘If Sara did actually murder all those people, and if it was so important to her that the police realised that she was the perpetrator, why did she kill herself before the trial?’
Didrik threw his arms out.
‘There could be a thousand reasons for that. Maybe she was ashamed?’
‘Ashamed?’
‘Guilty, then. I don’t bloody know. But I can tell you, I sleep soundly at night. Seriously. I don’t feel I let Sara Tell down, nor the families of the murder victims.’
I took a step towards my new friend.
‘And how do you know she only killed five people? Maybe there were ten victims?’
‘I have to admit that I’ve spent a lot more time thinking about that. But we didn’t manage to link her to any crimes beyond those five, so I presume that was all of them.’
I raised my hand in a final farewell. I had almost reached the young woman now. She looked happy.
‘It was good to see you,’ I said to Didrik. ‘Let’s speak soon!’
Didrik nodded briefly.
‘Look after yourself. See you!’
He headed across Vasagatan and set off towards the Central Station.
I watched him go, then turned my attention to the young woman standing in front of me.
I held out my hand in an exaggerated gesture: ‘Martin.’
She took it, and squeezed it surprisingly hard. ‘Veronica.’
‘Is it okay if we go back to yours?’ I said. ‘My place is a right mess. I’ve a water leak in the basement.’
15
‘Shall we meet up again?’
She was lying with her head on my chest, and her long hair was tickling me. No dark roots on show. She was that unusual thing, a genuine blonde.
The sex had been good. Very good. I realised I’d been in greater need of relieving the pressure than I’d imagined. All those thoughts that Sara Texas had triggered. It couldn’t be healthy.
I stroked her arm gently. It was probably quarter to ten, something like that, I ought to leap out of bed and throw myself in a taxi.
‘I don’t honestly know,’ I said. ‘I’ve got a lot of things going on in my life right now.’
She raised her head.
‘Are you seeing someone else?’
Why do women always think it’s so important to know? I never ask that question.
‘No.’
She tried to hide it, but I could tell she was relieved.
Her head sank back down again.
‘Not that it matters,’ she said quickly. ‘I mean, it’s not like we’ve made any promises to each other. I’m very happy with what’s happened this evening. I don’t need a relationship. I really don’t. I hope that’s not what you’re thinking? That I’m like that?’
She raised her head again. Pleading.
Oh no. Always the same old tune.
‘Not at all, don’t worry,’ I said, and started to move. ‘I don’t think anything. I realised from the start that you weren’t after anything serious.’
I flashed her an encouraging smile, perfectly aware tha
t I hadn’t said what she’d been hoping to hear.
‘Good,’ she said.
I pulled my clothes on in silence.
She didn’t move from the bed.
‘You’re okay about me not staying, aren’t you?’ I said. ‘I need to get home and sort out that bloody pipe. The plumber says they’re probably going to have to put some fans in.’
She nodded.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘My parents had a water-leak in their house a few years ago. Those fans were there for weeks.’
‘God, what a nuisance,’ I said, checking my trouser pockets to make sure I’d got everything.
Time to leave while things were still nice and calm. There might even be the potential for a rematch.
‘Funny,’ she said. ‘I didn’t think you were the sort of guy who lived in a house with a cellar.’
‘I’m the sort of guy who needs a lot of freedom and plenty of space,’ I said with a smile. ‘Look after yourself, and thanks for a really great evening.’
I leaned over and kissed her. She followed me out into the hall naked. When I took her bra off an hour earlier I thought her breasts were two of the most perfect I’d ever seen. Sadly they didn’t stand up to closer examination. I only needed the slightest of touches to know. You can tell at once if they’re real or not. These, sad to say, weren’t. I had no idea what they’d looked like before, but I guessed that they were perfectly okay. So why fix something that wasn’t broken?
I gave her a quick hug before I opened the door and left.
‘You’re welcome to call me sometime if you’re bored,’ she said.
‘I might very well do that,’ I said. ‘Take care.’
Five minutes later I was on my way home in a taxi. I was going to be about quarter of an hour late. I hoped the au pair wasn’t going to spoil the evening by being grumpy.
I got home to a silent flat. Signe was waiting in the kitchen. She was sitting reading the paper.
‘Have you had a good evening?’ she said.
I tossed my keys onto the worktop and sank onto one of the kitchen chairs.
‘Very good. How have things been here?’
‘Fine. Belle told me about all the fun you had over the weekend.’
There was warmth in her smile as she looked at me. For some inexplicable reason that made me blush. I wasn’t sure I deserved that sort of warmth. Not when I place higher priority on a decent fuck than the chance to put Belle to bed.
Buried Lies Page 9