Again the same calm tone from Jacob. ‘Evil and ill-will require no motive. But what do I know? Maybe you feel that you screwed up with Johannes and now you’re trying somehow to justify it to yourselves.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Patrik.
‘I mean that maybe you feel that if you can put us away for something now, then you must have been right about Johannes.’
‘Don’t you think that sounds a bit far-fetched?’
‘What should I believe? All I know is that you’ve latched on to us like ticks and refuse to let go. My only consolation is that God sees the truth.’
‘You talk a lot about God, my boy,’ said Gösta. ‘Is your father this devout?’
The question seemed to bother Jacob, precisely as Gösta intended. ‘My father’s faith is somewhere deep inside him. But his…’ he seemed to ponder which word to choose, ‘complicated relationship with his own father affected his faith in God. But it’s still there.’
‘Ah, his father. Ephraim Hult. The Preacher. You and he had a close relationship,’ said Gösta. It was more a statement than a question.
‘I don’t understand why this interests you, but yes, Grandfather and I were very close.’ Jacob pressed his lips together.
‘He saved your life, didn’t he?’ asked Patrik.
‘Yes, he did.’
‘How did your father feel about the fact that the father with whom he had a … “complicated relationship” – your own choice of words – was able to save your life, while he couldn’t?’ Patrik went on.
‘Every father wants to be his son’s hero, but I don’t think Pappa saw it that way. Anyway, Grandpa saved my life and Pappa was eternally grateful to him.’
‘And Johannes? How was his relationship with Ephraim – and your father?’
‘Honestly, I don’t see what importance this could possibly have. It was over twenty years ago!’
‘We’re aware of that, but we’d still appreciate it if you answered our questions,’ said Gösta.
Jacob’s calm façade had begun to crumble at the edges, and he ran his hand through his hair.
‘Johannes … well, he and Pappa no doubt had their problems, but Ephraim loved him. Not that they had any sort of outwardly close relationship, but that generation was like that. You weren’t supposed to wear your emotions on your sleeve.’
‘Did your father and Johannes quarrel a lot?’ said Patrik.
‘I don’t know whether I’d call it quarrelling. They had their disagreements, but siblings always do bicker.’
‘According to what people have said, they were more than disagreements. Some have even said that Gabriel hated his brother.’ Patrik pressed on.
‘Hate is a strong word that you shouldn’t bandy about. No, Pappa certainly had no tender feelings to spare for Johannes, but if they’d had the time I’m sure that God would have intervened. A brother should not stand against his brother.’
‘I presume you’re referring to Cain and Abel. Interesting that you should think of that particular Bible story. Were things that acrimonious between them?’ Patrik asked.
‘No, not really. And of course Pappa didn’t end up killing his brother!’ Jacob seemed to be regaining some of the calm he’d started to lose, and he folded his hands again as if in prayer.
‘Are you sure about that?’ Gösta’s voice was full of undertones.
Bewildered, Jacob stared at the two men in front of him.
‘What are you talking about? Johannes hanged himself, everybody knows that.’
‘Well, the problem is that we examined Johannes’s remains, and they show something different. Johannes didn’t commit suicide. He was murdered.’
Jacob’s hands that lay folded on the table began to shake uncontrollably. He seemed to be trying to form words with his mouth, but none emerged. Patrik and Gösta leaned back in unison, as if choreographed, and observed Jacob in silence. It seemed that this was news to him.
‘How did your father react to the news of Johannes’s death?’
‘I, I … I don’t really know,’ Jacob stammered. ‘I was still in hospital then.’ A thought struck him like a bolt of lightning. ‘Are you trying to make it look like Pappa killed Johannes?’ The thought made him start to snigger. ‘You’re out of your minds. My father, murder his brother? No, that’s impossible!’ The snigger changed to a laugh. Neither Gösta nor Patrik looked amused.
‘Do you think this is something to laugh at? The fact that your uncle Johannes was murdered? Is that something you think is amusing?’ said Patrik, carefully enunciating each word.
Jacob abruptly fell silent and looked down. ‘No, of course not. It’s just such a shock …’ He raised his eyes again. ‘But now I understand even less why you want to talk to me. I was just ten years old and in hospital at the time, so I presume you’re not going to try to claim I had anything to do with it.’ He emphasized ‘I’ to show how absurd it was. ‘It seems quite obvious what happened. Whoever murdered Siv and Mona must have thought it was perfect when you picked Johannes to be the scapegoat. And because the real killer could never be completely absolved, he killed Johannes and made it look like a suicide. The murderer knew how people here would react. They would regard it as proof of his guilt; it was as good as a written confession. And the same person must have murdered that German tourist. That makes sense, doesn’t it?’ he said eagerly. His eyes were shining.
‘A very good theory,’ said Patrik. ‘Not bad at all, if you ignore the fact that we compared the DNA that we took from Johannes yesterday with a DNA sample that we took from the semen on Tanja’s corpse. It turned out that Johannes is related to the person who murdered Tanja.’ He waited for Jacob’s reaction. There was none. He seemed turned to stone.
Patrik went on. ‘So today we took blood samples from everyone in your family. We’re going to send them to Göteborg for analysis, along with the sample we took from you when you arrived here. We’re quite sure that we’ll soon have proof in black and white of who the murderer is. So don’t you think it would be a good idea if you told us what you know, Jacob? Tanja was seen at your house, the murderer is related to Johannes – it’s quite a coincidence, don’t you think?’
The colour in Jacob’s face had changed. It alternated from pale to blazing crimson, and Patrik could see his jaws grinding.
‘That testimony is bullshit, and you know it. Stefan only wanted to get me arrested because he detests our family. And as far as blood tests and DNA and all that is concerned, you can take all the samples you want, but you’ll beg my forgiveness when you’ve got the results!’
‘In that event I promise to beg your forgiveness personally,’ Patrik replied calmly. ‘But until then I intend to get the answers I need.’
He wished that Martin and his group would have finished searching the house before they interrogated Jacob, but with the clock ticking they had to make the best of things. The question they most wanted answered was whether analyses of the soil at Västergården showed traces of FZ-302. Patrik hoped that Martin would report on any physical traces of Tanja or Jenny soon, but they couldn’t do the soil analyses on the spot – those would take time. He was actually sceptical about whether they would succeed in finding anything at the farm. Was it possible to conceal someone and murder the person without Marita or the children seeing anything? Instinctively Patrik felt that Jacob fit the role of prime suspect, but that very fact troubled him. How could Jacob have hidden his victims at the farm where he lived, without the family suspecting anything?
As if Jacob could read his thoughts, he said, ‘I certainly hope that you haven’t turned everything upside down at home. Marita will be beside herself if she comes home and the house is one huge mess.’
‘I believe the men are very careful,’ said Gösta.
Patrik looked at his telephone. He hoped Martin would call soon.
Stefan had retreated to the silence of the shed. Solveig’s reaction first to the exhumation and then the blood tests had made his skin crawl. He could
n’t stand all the emotions and needed to sit by himself for a while and think over everything that had happened. The concrete floor he was sitting on was hard, but wonderfully cool. He wrapped his arms round his legs and rested his cheek on one knee. Right now he missed Linda more than ever, but his longing was still mixed with anger. Maybe it would never be any different. At least he had lost some of his naïveté and taken back control. He never should have let it go. But she had been like poison in his soul. Her firm young body had turned him into a babbling idiot. He was furious with himself for letting a girl get under his skin like that.
He knew that he was a dreamer. That’s why he had felt so infatuated with Linda. Even though she was way too young, too self-assured, too selfish. He was convinced that she would never stay in Fjällbacka and that they didn’t have a ghost of a chance of a future together. But the dreamer in him had still had a hard time accepting that. Now he knew better.
Stefan promised himself that he would improve. He would try to become more like Robert. Tough, hard, invincible. Robert always landed on his feet. Nothing seemed to touch him. Stefan envied him that.
A sound behind him made him turn round, thinking that Robert had come in. Hands gripped his throat and he could hardly breathe.
‘Don’t move or I’ll break your neck.’
Stefan vaguely recognized the voice but couldn’t place it. When the grip round his neck was released he was tossed hard against the wall. The air was knocked out of him.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Stefan tried to turn round, but someone had seized hold of him and was pressing his face against the cold concrete wall.
‘Shut up.’ The voice was implacable. Stefan wondered whether he should call for help but didn’t think anyone would hear him up at the house.
‘What the hell do you want?’ The words were difficult to form with half his face pressed hard against the wall.
‘What I want? Well, you’re going to find out.’
When the attacker made his demands, at first Stefan didn’t understand any of it. But when he was turned round so that he stood eye to eye with the person who had attacked him, all the bits fell into place. A punch in the face told him that the assailant was serious. But defiance welled up inside him.
‘Fuck you,’ mumbled Stefan. His mouth was slowly filling with some fluid that could only be blood. His thoughts had begun to grow hazy, but he refused to give in.
‘You’re going to do as I say.’
‘No,’ Stefan mumbled.
Then the punches started raining down on him. They struck him rhythmically until a vast darkness swept in.
* * *
The farm was marvellous. Martin couldn’t help making that observation as they started their work of encroaching on the private lives of Jacob and his family. The colours in the house were pastel, the rooms radiated warmth and calm and had a country feel to them, with white linen tablecloths and light, fluttering curtains. He would have loved to have a home like this. And now they had to disturb this peace. Methodically they went through the house, bit by bit. No one said a word; they worked in utter silence. Martin concentrated on the living room. The frustrating thing was that they didn’t know what they were looking for. Martin wasn’t sure that they would recognize traces of the girls even if they found any.
For the first time since he had so strongly advocated that Jacob was the one they were searching for, he began to have his doubts. It was impossible to imagine that someone who lived like this in such peaceful surroundings would be able to kill someone.
‘How’s it going?’ he called to the officers upstairs.
‘Nothing yet,’ one of them called back. Martin sighed and continued opening bureau drawers and turning over everything that wasn’t nailed down.
‘I’ll go out and start checking the barn,’ he said to the officer from Uddevalla who was taking part in the search of the ground floor.
The barn was mercifully cool. He understood why Linda and Stefan had made this their trysting place. The smell of hay tickled his nostrils and brought back memories from his childhood summers. He climbed up the ladder to the loft and peered out through the cracks between the boards. Yes, there was a good view of Västergården from here, just as Stefan had said. It would be no problem to recognize someone from this distance.
Martin climbed back down. The barn was empty except for some old agricultural implements that were rusting away. He didn’t think they would find anything here, but he would still ask some of the others to take another look. He left the barn and scanned the area. Besides the manor house and the barn there was only a little garden shed and a playhouse that they hadn’t yet searched. He held no hope of finding anything in either place. Both were too small to hold a person, but for safety’s sake they should still check them.
The sun was broiling his scalp and making beads of sweat form on his forehead. He went back to the manor house to help with the search, but his enthusiasm from earlier in the day had begun to wane. His heart sank. Jenny Möller was somewhere. But not here.
Even Patrik had begun to despair. After a couple of hours of interrogation they had got nowhere with Jacob. He seemed to be genuinely shocked at the news that Johannes was murdered, and he stubbornly refused to say anything but that they were harassing his family and he was innocent. Time after time Patrik caught himself glancing at the mobile phone, mocking him with its silence as it lay on the table in front of him. He was in desperate need of some good news. They wouldn’t have any answers about the blood samples until at least early tomorrow morning, he knew that, so he had fixed his hopes on Martin and the team going through Västergården. But no call came. It wasn’t until just after four in the afternoon that Martin rang and dejectedly reported that they had found nothing and were giving up. Patrik motioned to Gösta to come out of the interrogation room.
‘That was Martin. They didn’t find anything.’
The hope in Gösta’s eyes died out. ‘Nothing?’
‘No, not a damn thing. So we don’t seem to have any other choice but to release him. Shit.’ Patrik slapped his hand on the wall but then collected himself quickly again. ‘Oh well, it’s only temporary. Tomorrow I expect to get a report on the blood samples, and then maybe we can pick him up for good.’
‘Sure, but think what he might do before then. He knows what we’ve got on him now, and if we release him he could go straight back and kill the girl.’
‘So what the hell do you think we should do?’ Patrik’s frustration turned to anger, but he saw the injustice of lashing out at Gösta and immediately apologized.
‘I want to make one more attempt to get some answers about the blood samples before we let him go. They might have been able to find something we can use right now. They know why we’re in a hurry, and they’ve put us first in line.’
Patrik went into his office and dialled the number for Pathology on his landline. By this time he knew the number by heart. Outside the window the traffic was roaring past as usual in the summer sunshine. For a moment he was envious of all the clueless holiday-makers driving past with their cars stuffed full. He wished that he too could be so oblivious.
‘Hello, Pedersen, it’s Patrik Hedström. Thought I’d check to see if you’d found anything before we release our suspect.’
‘Didn’t I tell you we wouldn’t be done until early tomorrow morning? And we’re going to have to put in a bunch of overtime tonight, you should know.’ Pedersen sounded stressed and irritated.
‘I know, but I just wondered if you’d found anything.’
A long silence indicated that Pedersen was fighting an internal battle about something, and Patrik sat up straighter in his chair.
‘You did find something, didn’t you?’
‘It’s only preliminary. We have to check and double-check before we can release any information, otherwise the consequences could be disastrous. Besides, the tests then have to be repeated by the Swedish Crime Lab. Our equipment isn’t anywhere near as sophisticated as theirs
, and – ’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Patrik interrupted, ‘I know that, but a seventeen-year-old girl’s life is at stake here, so if there’s any time when you should relax the rules, it’s now.’ He held his breath and waited.
‘All right, but use the information cautiously. You have no idea how much shit I could get if …’ Pedersen didn’t finish his sentence.
‘Word of honour, now tell me what you’ve got.’ He was holding the receiver so tight that it felt sweaty.
‘Naturally we began by analysing Jacob Hult’s blood sample. And we found some interesting things – preliminary of course,’ Pedersen warned him again.
‘Yes?’
‘According to our first test, Jacob Hult’s DNA does not match the semen sample taken from the victim’s body.’
Patrik slowly exhaled. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath.
‘How certain is it?’
‘As I said, we have to run the test several times to be completely certain, but that’s actually only a formality to protect the legal rights of the individual. You can probably count on it being correct.’
‘Damn it all. That does throw a different light on the case.’ Patrik couldn’t keep the disappointment out of his voice. He saw now that he’d been completely positive that Jacob was the one they were looking for. This as good as took them back to square one.
‘And you didn’t find a match when you examined the other samples?’
‘We haven’t got that far yet. We assumed that you wanted us to concentrate on Jacob Hult, and that’s what we did. So besides him we’ve only finished with one other person. But sometime in the morning I’ll be able to inform you about the rest.’
‘Well, by then I’ll have to let the guy go from the interrogation room. And offer him an apology,’ Patrik sighed.
‘Oh, there’s one more thing.’
‘Yes?’
Pedersen hesitated. ‘The second sample we got started analysing is Gabriel Hult’s. And …’
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