‘We understand,’ said Patrik. ‘When will you do the post-mortem so we can get a look at the bullet?’
‘Let me see now …’ He turned to his computer and clicked the mouse. ‘The post-mortem is scheduled for next Monday. So you’ll have my report by Wednesday.’
‘Couldn’t you get to it any sooner?’
‘Afraid not. We’ve been damned busy the past month. People are dropping like flies for some reason, and besides, two of our staff suddenly had to go on sick leave for an unspecified length of time. Burned out, apparently. This job can have that effect on certain people.’ It was clear that Pedersen didn’t see himself in that category.
‘Okay, I suppose it can’t be helped. Please give me a ring as soon as you know more. And I assume that the bullet will be sent ASAP over to the forensics lab?’
‘Of course,’ said Pedersen, looking slightly offended. ‘We may be a bit understaffed at the moment, but we still carry out our work in a professional manner.’
‘I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.’ Patrik held up his hands. ‘I’m just impatient, as usual. Give me a call when your report is ready, and I promise not to hassle you any more.’
‘No problem.’ Pedersen got up to say goodbye.
It felt as if Wednesday was a long way away.
‘So you’re saying that we can go inside the flat now?’ Gösta sounded uncharacteristically eager. ‘And we’ll have your report tomorrow? That’s great. Hedström will be glad to hear it.’
He smiled as he put down the phone. Torbjörn Ruud had just told him that they’d finished the technical inspection so the police were now free to take a look at Mats Sverin’s flat. Gösta suddenly had a brainwave. It would be silly to sit here, twiddling his thumbs and waiting until Patrik and Paula came back. For all that twiddling his thumbs was one of Gösta’s favourite pastimes, it got on his nerves that Patrik was the one who always made all the decisions. Especially since he himself and Bertil were the station’s most experienced officers. He had to admit to a certain desire to get back at Patrik. Though it went against the grain to put too much effort into his job, it would be nice to show those young whippersnappers how the job ought to be done. Gösta made a quick decision and hurried over to Mellberg’s office. In his eagerness, he forgot to knock, and as he pulled open the door, he caught Bertil waking up from what looked like a very pleasant nap.
‘What the devil?’ Mellberg glanced around in bewilderment while Ernst sat up in his basket, ears pricked.
‘Excuse me. I thought …’
‘Thought what?’ bellowed Mellberg, straightening his comb-over, which had slipped down as he slept.
‘Well, you see, I was just talking to Torbjörn Ruud on the phone …’
‘And?’ Mellberg was still looking cross, but Ernst had curled up in his basket again.
‘He said that we could go into the flat now.’
‘Whose flat?’
‘Mats Sverin’s. They’re done there. The tech team, I mean. And I thought …’ Gösta was beginning to regret his decision. Maybe it wasn’t such a stroke of genius after all. ‘I thought …’
‘Get to the point, why don’t you!’
‘Well, Hedström is always so bloody keen on getting everything done immediately, and preferably yesterday. So I was thinking that you and I could get going and do our own inspection of the place. Instead of waiting for him to get back.’
Mellberg’s face lit up. He was starting to understand what Gösta had in mind, and he liked the idea.
‘Absolutely! It would be a shame to postpone things until tomorrow. And who has more expertise than we do to get this case moving forward?’ He smiled broadly.
‘Exactly what I was thinking,’ said Gösta, smiling as well. ‘It’s time to show the young folk what us old guys can do.’
‘Brilliant, my friend.’
Mellberg got up and they headed for the garage. The two veterans were about to take to the field.
Nathalie was bathing him again. She poured the warm, salty water over his body, wet his hair, and tried to avoid getting water in his eyes. Sam didn’t seem to be enjoying it, but he didn’t appear to hate it either. He lay quietly in her arms and allowed her to wash him.
She knew that sooner or later he would wake from his torpor. His brain was trying to process what had happened – an experience that no one should ever have to go through, especially someone so young. A five-year-old child should not be separated from his father, but she’d had no choice. It had been essential to flee; it was the only way out. She and Sam had paid a high price though.
Sam had loved Fredrik. He hadn’t seen the side of him that she had seen, or experienced what she had gone through. For Sam, Fredrik was a hero who could do no wrong. He had idolized his father, and that was the main reason why it had been so hard to make the decision. To the extent that she’d had any choice in the matter.
In spite of everything, it pained her that Sam had lost his father. No matter what Fredrik had done to her, he had always meant a great deal to Sam. Not as much as she did, but nevertheless he was important to the boy. And now Sam was never going to see him again.
Nathalie lifted her son out of the water and placed him on the towel that she had spread out on the dock. Her father had always said that the sun was good for both body and soul, and the warm rays truly did feel as if they were having a restorative effect. Overhead the seagulls circled, and she thought that Sam might enjoy watching them when he was feeling better.
‘My sweet, sweet little boy.’ She stroked his hair. He was still so small, so defenceless. It felt as if it were only yesterday that he was an infant and could fit so easily in her arms. Maybe she ought to take him to a doctor after all, but her maternal instincts told her no. He was safe here. He didn’t need hospitals and medicines; he needed peace and quiet and her loving care. That was what would make him well again.
She shivered. A chill wind had started sweeping over the dock, and she worried that Sam might catch cold. With an effort she stood up, holding him in her arms, and walked towards the house. She pushed the door open with her foot and carried him inside.
‘Are you hungry?’ she asked as she got him dressed.
He didn’t say a word, but she sat down on a chair and began feeding him cornflakes. In good time he’d come back to her. The sea, the sun, and her love would heal his damaged soul.
Erica tried to take a walk every afternoon before collecting Maja from the daycare centre. The babies needed fresh air, and she needed to get some exercise. Manoeuvring the twins’ pram gave her quite a workout, and on the return journey, with Maja standing on the running board, it was a real challenge to push the pram all the way home.
Today, instead of taking the direct route up Galärbacken, she decided to take the long route past Badis and the Lorentz jam factory. At the wharf below Badis she paused and shaded her eyes with her hand so she could look up at the old building. The newly painted facade was a gleaming white in the sunshine. It made her happy to see the place restored. Aside from the church, the spa hotel was the dominant feature of the town’s skyline and the first thing people noticed when they approached the town by boat. For years the building had fallen more and more into disrepair until finally it looked as if it might collapse altogether. Now it was once again the pride of Fjällbacka.
She sighed with pleasure and then chuckled at herself, embarrassed that she could be so moved by the boards and paint of an old building. But it was more than that. She had so many fond memories of Badis. For Erica, as for most people who lived in Fjällbacka, the building held a special place in her heart. Badis was part of their history, and it had now been restored to the present and the future. No wonder she’d come over all sentimental.
Erica began pushing the pram again, steeling herself for the long, steep path up the hill past the sewage-treatment plant and the mini-golf course. Suddenly a car pulled up and stopped next to her. She paused, peering at the driver to see who it was. A woman got out of the car, and Eric
a recognized her at once, even though she’d never actually met her. The local grapevine had been rife with gossip about this woman since she moved to the area a number of months ago. It had to be Vivianne Berkelin.
‘Hi!’ said the woman cheerfully, coming forward with her hand held out. ‘You must be Erica Falck.’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ said Erica with a smile as they shook hands.
‘I’ve been meaning to say hello to you. I’ve read all your books, and I like them a lot.’
Erica felt herself blushing, which always happened whenever she received praise for her books. She still hadn’t grown used to the fact that so many people had read something she’d written. And after being on maternity leave for several months, it was refreshing to meet someone who viewed her primarily as an author and not as the mother of Noel, Anton, and Maja.
‘I really admire anyone who has the patience to sit down and write a whole book.’
‘All it requires is a tough backside,’ said Erica, laughing.
Vivianne radiated an infectious enthusiasm, and Erica was filled with an emotion that she at first couldn’t quite identify. Then she realized what it was. She wanted Vivianne to like her.
‘It’s looking amazing.’ She turned towards Badis.
‘Yes, we’re incredibly proud of it.’ Vivianne looked in the same direction. ‘Would you like a tour?’
Erica glanced at her watch. She had planned to pick up Maja a bit early, but her daughter loved being at day-care, so there would be no harm in picking her up at the normal time. Besides, she was dying to find out whether the interior of the building was as lovely as the facade.
‘That would be great. But I’m not sure how I’ll manage to get the pram up there,’ she said, looking at the steep stairs.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll give you a hand.’ Vivianne headed for the steps without waiting for a reply.
Five minutes later they had manoeuvred the twin pram up to the entrance, and Erica was able to push it inside. She paused in the doorway, her eyes wide as she glanced around. Gone were all the old, worn furnishings, yet the original character of the place remained. As she surveyed her surroundings, memories of the summer disco when she was a teenager came flooding back, yet everything now looked so new and fresh. She parked the pram next to the wall and lifted Noel out. She was about to lift out Anton’s carrycot when she heard Vivianne say quietly:
‘May I hold him?’
Erica nodded, and Vivianne leaned over and gently picked up Anton in her arms. The twins were used to being held by so many different people that they were never bothered by strangers picking them up. The baby gazed up at her, giving her a smile.
‘What a little charmer you are,’ prattled Vivianne as she carefully removed his jacket and hat.
‘Do you have children?’ asked Erica.
‘No, I’ve never been so lucky,’ replied Vivianne, looking away. ‘Would you like some tea?’ she asked as she carried Anton towards the dining room.
‘I’d prefer coffee, if you have it. I’m not much of a tea drinker.’
‘Normally we don’t recommend poisoning the body with caffeine, but I’ll make an exception and see if I can find some real coffee.’
‘Thank you.’ Erica followed Vivianne. Coffee was what kept her going. She drank so much of it that she probably had coffee rather than blood flowing through her veins. ‘Everybody has their vices, and I can think of worse things than caffeine.’
‘I’m not so sure about that,’ said Vivianne, but she chose to say no more on the subject. She probably sensed that her words would fall on deaf ears.
‘I’ll be right back. Why don’t you sit down here. We’ll take a tour afterwards.’ Vivianne disappeared through a swinging door which Erica assumed led to the kitchen.
For a moment she wondered how Vivianne was going to manage to make coffee while holding the baby. By now Erica had learned to do nearly everything using only one hand, but it definitely took practice. She pushed away the thought. Vivianne would probably let her know if she needed help.
After serving the coffee, Vivianne sat down across from her. Erica noticed that the tables and chairs were also new. Although they were stylish and modern, they fit in perfectly with the traditional setting. Someone with good taste had chosen all the furnishings. The view from the windows that lined the outer wall was spectacular. The entire Fjällbacka archipelago was spread out before them.
‘When does it open?’ Erica picked up a rather strange-looking biscuit, and instantly regretted her choice. Whatever it was made of, there wasn’t enough sugar; it was much too wholesome to qualify as a biscuit.
‘In about a week. Provided we get everything done on time,’ said Vivianne with a sigh as she dunked her biscuit in a mug of tea. Probably green tea, thought Erica, looking with pleasure at her own pitch-black beverage.
‘You’re coming to the party, aren’t you?’ said Vivianne.
‘I’d really love to. I got the invitation, but we haven’t actually decided yet. It’s not easy to find a babysitter for three kids.’
‘Try to come. That would be so nice. By the way, on Saturday your husband and his colleagues are coming here for a first-hand look at the place. We’re going to let them try out all the services we offer.’
‘Really?’ said Erica with a laugh. ‘Patrik didn’t tell me that. I don’t think he’s ever set foot in a spa before, so it should be an interesting experience for him.’
‘Let’s hope so.’ Vivianne stroked Anton’s head. ‘How’s your sister doing? I hope you don’t mind my asking, but I heard about the accident.’
‘That’s okay.’ To her annoyance, Erica felt tears well up in her eyes. She swallowed hard and managed to get her voice under control. ‘To be honest, she’s not doing very well. She’s been through so much in her life.’
The image of Anna’s first husband flashed through Erica’s mind. There were so many things she couldn’t explain, even though there was something about this woman that made her want to do so. And she suddenly found herself telling Vivianne the whole story. She usually never discussed Anna’s life, but she instinctively felt that Vivianne would understand. When she was done, tears were spilling down her cheeks.
‘She certainly hasn’t had an easy time of it. She needed that child,’ said Vivianne quietly, putting into words exactly what Erica had thought so many times. Anna deserved that baby. She deserved to be happy.
‘I don’t know what to do. She doesn’t seem to notice when I’m with her. It’s as if she has gone away somewhere. And I’m afraid that she might not come back.’
‘She hasn’t gone away.’ Vivianne bounced Anton on her knee. ‘She has sought shelter in a place where it doesn’t hurt. She knows that you’re there. The best thing you can do is to visit her and touch her. We’ve forgotten how important it is to be touched, yet we all need it in order to survive. So touch her, and tell her husband to do that too. We often make the mistake of not wanting to bother someone who is grieving. We think they need peace and quiet and to be left alone. Nothing could be further from the truth. Human beings are herd animals, and we need to feel the herd around us, we need the closeness, warmth, and touch of other people. So make sure that Anna is surrounded by her herd. Don’t let her stay in her room all alone. Don’t allow her to slip away to that place where there may not be any grief but there aren’t any other emotions either. Force her to come out of there.’
Erica sat in silence for a moment. She was thinking about what Vivianne had said and realized that she was right. They shouldn’t have let Anna withdraw from them. They should have made a greater effort.
‘And don’t feel guilty,’ said Vivianne. ‘Her grief has nothing to do with your joy.’
‘But she must feel that …’ said Erica, and now the tears were flowing harder than ever. ‘She must feel that I got everything while she got nothing.’
‘She knows that what happened to the two of you isn’t connected. If anything is going to stand between you, it’s your fee
ling of guilt rather than any envy or anger that Anna might feel because your babies survived. That’s all in your own mind.’
‘How can you be so sure?’ Erica wanted to believe Vivianne, but she didn’t dare. This woman had never met her sister, so how could she tell what Anna was thinking or feeling? All the same, there was a ring of truth to what she’d said.
‘I can’t explain how I know. I just do. I understand people. You’ll simply have to trust me,’ said Vivianne firmly. And to her surprise, Erica realized that she did. She trusted her.
A short time later, as she was headed towards the day-care centre, she felt more at ease than she had in a long time. She had let go of what had been stopping her from drawing close to Anna again. She had rid herself of that feeling of helplessness.
FJÄLLBACKA 1871
Finally the ice had set in. It had arrived late that winter, not appearing until February. In a sense it made Emelie feel freer. After a week the ice was thick enough to walk on, and for the first time since she’d come to the island, it would be possible for her to leave on her own, if she wished to do so. It would involve a long walk as well as a certain amount of risk, because it was said that no matter how thick the ice, treacherous cracks existed where the current flowed most swiftly. Yet it was possible.
In another sense it made her feel more confined, because Karl and Julian couldn’t make their regular trips to Fjällbacka. She had come to dread their return, when they’d arrive drunk and spiteful, but at least their absence gave her some breathing space. Now they spent more time in her presence, and the atmosphere was oppressive. She tried to be pleasant and quietly went about her chores. Karl still hadn’t touched her, and she hadn’t tried to make any more advances. In utter silence she lay in bed, pressing her body against the cold wall of the room. But the damage was done. His loathing for her had not diminished, and she felt more and more lonely.
The Lost Boy (Patrick Hedstrom and Erica Falck, Book 7) Page 13