Protected by the Shadows
Page 23
A little while later all four of them turned up. There was a lot of hugging and kissing, and plenty of tears were shed. Egon hurtled around like a lunatic, beside himself with joy at being back home with his mistress once more. Irene’s heart was positively dancing in her breast. Her beloved family was safely back home. They looked incredibly healthy, which was more than could be said about her. They were horrified by the sight of her bruised and battered face, of course, but at least they were prepared to a certain extent. After spending Saturday recuperating, Irene had called Krister in the evening to explain what had really happened in the explosion. He and the girls had already trawled the Internet and various newspapers and knew the basics. Irene described her colorful appearance, but reassured them that it looked worse than it was.
She opened a bottle of sparkling wine and poured it into champagne glasses, with alcohol-free cider for Jenny. A pleasurable calm suffused her body; it was partly due to the wine, but the main reason was the knowledge that the nightmare they had been living was over at last. In a while they would tuck into the food, but first of all Irene wanted to enjoy this time together. They had gotten their lives back.
Krister sipped the ice-cold wine with enjoyment, then helped himself to a handful of salted almonds. He looked at Irene for a long time.
“What?” she said eventually.
“We were wondering about something when we were on our way back, after we heard what had happened. The bomb at Pravda . . .” He finished off his wine and placed his glass carefully on the coffee table. “I don’t supposed you managed to sneak in there before the bad guys had their meeting?”
“Before . . . ? What are you . . .”
Irene broke off as she realized what he meant. After everything she had gone through, her own family was accusing her of having planted the bomb inside Pravda! Just as she was about to hit the roof, she saw the glint in her husband’s eye, and noticed the girls exchanging glances.
Okay, so they were teasing her. Fine. She was perfectly capable of giving as good as she got. She tipped her head on one side and assumed an expression of wide-eyed innocence.
“Has Tommy been telling tales? It must have been him. He’s the only one who knew about my little reconnaissance mission.”
She hid her smile behind the rim of her glass as she watched them exchanging glances that were a little more anxious this time. They weren’t sure whether she was joking or not. As far as Irene was concerned, they could carry on wondering.
Author’s Note
I’ve been thinking about this book for several years. I have watched with growing anxiety as the criminal gangs have increased in number and acquired greater power. This means that more and more people will be affected by their activities, both directly and indirectly. My aim has been to show how their ruthless violence can impact just about anyone.
Over the years I have discussed the spread of gang violence with several well-informed police officers, and I would particularly like to thank Detective Inspector Torbjörn Åhgren with the CSI in Västra Götaland, who has been immensely helpful.
All resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental and not the intention of the author, and the events in my books are the product of my imagination. As usual I have taken considerable liberties with geographical facts. I do not adapt my narrative to suit the existing geography; reality is adapted to fit the story instead. And to be honest, Kolgruvegatan isn’t quite as rough as I have depicted it here.
Helene Tursten