The Preacher

by Camilla Lackberg

  ‘Yes?’ said Patrik even more insistently.

  ‘Well, according to our analysis of their respective DNA structure, it’s impossible for Gabriel to be Jacob’s father.’

  Patrik sat dead still in his chair, dumbstruck.

  ‘Are you still there?’

  ‘Yes, I’m here. That was just not anything I’d expected. Are you sure?’ Then he realized what the answer would be and anticipated what Pedersen was going to say: ‘It’s only preliminary and you have to do more tests et cetera et cetera, I know, you don’t have to tell me again.’

  ‘Is it something that might be important for the investigation?’

  ‘Right now everything is important, so it’s certainly something we could use. Thanks for everything.’

  Patrik sat bewildered for a moment, thinking hard with his hands clasped behind his head and his feet on the desk. Jacob’s negative test would force them to rethink the case completely. The fact still remained that Tanja’s killer was related to Johannes, and with Jacob out of the game only Gabriel, Stefan and Robert remained. One down, three to go. But even though Jacob wasn’t their perp, Patrik could bet that he knew something. During the entire interrogation he had noticed something evasive about Jacob, something the man fought hard to keep below the surface. The information that Patrik had received from Pedersen might give the police the advantage they needed to shake Jacob up enough to make him talk. Patrik took his feet down from the desk and got up. He briefly summarized for Gösta what he’d found out, and then they went back to the interrogation room, where Jacob, bored to death, sat picking at his fingernails. They had hastily agreed on the tactic they would use.

  ‘How long do I have to sit here?’

  ‘We have the right to hold you for six hours. But as we mentioned, you also have the right to have a lawyer present whenever you want. Do you want to call a lawyer?’

  ‘No, it’s not necessary,’ replied Jacob. ‘An innocent man needs no other defender than his faith that God will set everything right.’

  ‘Okay, then you must be well equipped. You and God seem to be like this,’ said Patrik, holding up his hand with the first two fingers together.

  ‘We know where we stand with each other,’ said Jacob guardedly. ‘And I feel sorry for anyone who goes through life without God.’

  ‘So you feel sorry for us poor wretches, is that what you’re saying?’ said Gösta with amusement in his voice.

  ‘It’s a waste of time talking to you two. You’ve closed your hearts.’

  Patrik leaned towards Jacob. ‘Interesting, all this talk about God and the Devil and sin and that whole song and dance. How do your parents fit into the picture? Are they living in accordance with God’s commandments?’

  ‘Father may have taken a step back from the congregation, but his faith remains strong. Both he and Mother are God-fearing people.’

  ‘Are you sure about that? I mean, what do you actually know about how they live?’

  ‘What do you mean? I know my own parents. Have you cooked up something else to drag their names through the mud?’

  Jacob’s hands were trembling, and Patrik felt a certain satisfaction at being able to upset his stoic calm.

  ‘I only mean that there’s no way for you actually to know what goes on in someone else’s life. Your parents may have sins on their conscience that you have no idea about, isn’t that right?’

  Jacob got up and headed for the door. ‘No, now that’s enough. Arrest me or let me go, because I’m not going to sit here any longer listening to your lies!’

  ‘Did you know, for example, that Gabriel is not your father?’

  Jacob stopped short, with his hand halfway to the door handle. He turned round slowly. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I asked if you knew that Gabriel is not your father. I just spoke with the lab doing the tests on the blood samples you all provided, and there is definitely no doubt about it. Gabriel is not your father.’

  All colour had drained from Jacob’s face. The news had certainly caught him by surprise. ‘They tested my blood?’ he said with a quavering voice.

  ‘Yes, and I did promise to apologize if I was wrong.’

  Jacob just stared at him.

  ‘I apologize,’ said Patrik. ‘Your blood does not match the DNA we found on the victim.’

  Jacob collapsed like a punctured balloon. He sat down heavily on the chair. ‘So, what happens now?’

  ‘You are no longer a suspect in the murder of Tanja Schmidt. But I still think you’re hiding something from us. Now you have a chance to tell us what you know. I think you should take it, Jacob.’

  He merely shook his head. ‘I don’t know anything. I don’t know anything any more. Please, can’t I go now?’

  ‘Not yet. We want to talk to your mother first, before you leave. Because I assume you may have a few things you want to ask her about.’

  Jacob nodded mutely. ‘But why do you want to talk to her? Surely it can’t have anything to do with your investigation.’

  Patrik found himself repeating what he’d said to Pedersen. ‘Right now everything has to do with the investigation. You’re all hiding something. I would bet a month’s salary on it. And we intend to find out what it is, by any means necessary.’

  All the fight seemed to have gone out of Jacob, and all he could do was nod in resignation. The news seemed to have put him in a state of shock.

  ‘Gösta, could you drive out and pick up Laine?’

  ‘We don’t have a warrant to bring her in, do we?’ Gösta said morosely.

  ‘She has no doubt heard that we have Jacob under interrogation, so it probably won’t be hard to convince her to come along voluntarily.’

  Patrik turned to Jacob. ‘We’ll bring you something to eat and drink, and then you’ll have to wait here until we’ve talked with your mother. After that you’ll have a chance to talk to her yourself. Okay?’

  Jacob nodded apathetically. He seemed deep in his own thoughts.

  It was with mixed feelings that Anna put the key in the lock back home in Stockholm. Getting away for a while had been wonderful, both for her and the children, but it had also cooled her enthusiasm for Gustav. To be honest, it had been rather trying to be cooped up on a sailboat with him and all his nit-picking. And there was also something in Lucas’s tone of voice the last time they talked that had worried her. Despite all the abuse he had subjected her to, he had always given the impression of being in full control over himself and the situation. Now for the first time she had heard a note of panic in his voice, a hint that things might be happening that were not under his control. From a mutual acquaintance she’d heard the rumour that things were starting to fall apart for him at work. He had flown off the handle during an in-house meeting and insulted a client on another occasion. Cracks had begun to appear in his façade. And that scared her. It scared her enormously.

  Something was wrong with the lock. The key wouldn’t turn in the proper direction. After trying for a while, she realized that it was because the door wasn’t actually locked. She was sure that she’d locked it when she left home a week ago. Anna told the children to stay where they were and carefully opened the door. She let out a gasp. Her first flat of her own, in which she had taken so much pride, was destroyed. There wasn’t a single piece of furniture left undamaged. Everything was smashed to bits, and all over the walls somebody had sprayed black paint like graffiti. ‘WHORE’ was on the living-room wall in huge letters, and she clapped her hand to her mouth as the tears came to her eyes. She didn’t need to wonder who had done this to her. What had been gnawing in the back of her mind ever since she’d talked to Lucas had now become a certainty. He had clearly begun to fall apart. The hatred and anger that had always simmered just beneath the surface was breaking through his mask.

  Anna retreated to the landing. She took both her children and hugged them tight. Her first instinct had been to ring Erica. Then she decided that she would have to take care of this herself.

  She�
��d been so happy with her new life and had felt so strong. For the first time she had felt like her own woman. Not Erica’s little sister. Not Lucas’s wife. Her own. Now it was all in tatters.

  She knew what she had to do. The cat had won. The mouse had only one place to take refuge. Anything not to lose the children.

  But there was one thing. She was willing to give up herself; he could do whatever he liked with her. But if he ever touched one of the children again, she would kill him. Without hesitation.

  It had not been a good day. Gabriel had been so upset over what he termed the assault by the police that he locked himself in his office and refused to come out. Linda had gone back out to the horses, and Laine sat alone on the sofa in the living room, staring at the walls. The thought of Jacob being interrogated at the police station brought tears of humiliation to her eyes. It was her instinct as a mother to protect him from anything bad, whether he was a child or an adult. Even though she knew that the situation was out of her control, it felt as if she’d failed. A clock ticked in the silence and the monotonous sound had almost put her in a trance. When someone knocked on the front door, she nearly jumped out of her seat. She opened the door with trepidation. Nowadays every knock seemed to bring unpleasant news. So she wasn’t greatly surprised to see Gösta standing there.

  ‘What do you want now?’

  Gösta flinched with embarrassment. ‘We need your help with a few questions. At the station.’ He seemed to be waiting for a torrent of protests. But Laine merely nodded and followed him down the stairs.

  ‘Aren’t you going to tell your husband where you’re going?’ Gösta asked in surprise.

  ‘No,’ she said curtly, and he gave her a searching look. For a brief second he wondered if they had pressed the Hult family too far. Then he remembered that somewhere in their complicated relationships there was a murderer and a missing girl. The heavy oak door fell shut behind them, and like a Japanese housewife Laine followed a few paces behind Gösta to the car. They drove all the way to the station in a tense silence that was broken only by a question from Laine, who wanted to know if the police were still holding her son. Gösta merely nodded, and Laine spent the rest of the trip to Tanumshede staring out of the window at the passing countryside. It was already early evening, and the sun had begun to colour the fields red. But the beauty of their surroundings was not something either of them noticed.

  Patrik looked relieved when they came through the doors of the station. In the time it had taken Gösta to drive out there and back, Patrik had restlessly paced in the corridor outside the interrogation room, fervently wishing that he could have read Jacob’s mind.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, nodding curtly to Laine when she arrived. It was starting to feel superfluous to keep introducing himself, and under the circumstances shaking hands seemed an altogether too ingratiating gesture. They weren’t here to exchange pleasantries. Patrik had been a little worried about how Laine would handle their questioning. She had seemed so fragile, so vulnerable, with her nerves terribly exposed. He quickly saw that he needn’t have worried. As she walked behind Gösta she looked resigned, but calm and collected.

  Since Tanumshede police station had only one interrogation room, they went into the lunchroom and sat down. Laine said no thanks to a cup of coffee, but both Patrik and Gösta felt the need for a caffeine infusion. The coffee tasted bitter but they drank it anyway, although not without a grimace. Neither of them knew how to begin, and to their amazement Laine was the first to speak.

  ‘Your colleague here’ – she nodded towards Gösta – ‘said you had a few questions.’

  ‘Ye-e-es,’ said Patrik hesitantly. ‘We’ve obtained some information and we’re a bit unsure how to handle it. We don’t know how it fits into the investigation. Perhaps not at all, but right now time is too short to handle anything with kid gloves. So I’ll get right to the point.’ Patrik took a deep breath. Laine continued to meet his gaze unmoved, but when he looked down at her clasped hands resting on the table, he saw that her knuckles were white.

  ‘We have received a preliminary result of the analysis of the blood samples we took from your family.’ Now he also saw her hands start to tremble. He wondered how long she would be able to retain her apparent composure. ‘And first of all I can tell you that Jacob’s DNA does not match the DNA that we found on the victim.’

  Right before his eyes, Laine started going to pieces. Her hands were now shaking uncontrollably, and he realized that she had come to the station prepared for the news that her son had been arrested for murder. Relief shone in her face, and she had to swallow several times to check the sobs rising in her throat. She said nothing, so he went on.

  ‘However, we did discover something odd when comparing Jacob’s and Gabriel’s blood. It clearly shows that Jacob cannot possibly be Gabriel’s son … ?’ With his tone of voice he made the assertion into a question and then waited for Laine’s reaction.

  But the relief that Jacob had been cleared of murder charges seemed to have lifted a stone from her breast. She hesitated only a second before saying, ‘Yes, that’s correct. Gabriel is not Jacob’s father.’

  ‘In that case, who is?’

  ‘I don’t understand what this has to do with the murders. Especially now that Jacob is apparently not guilty.’

  ‘As I said before, right now we don’t have time to sit and decide what’s important and what isn’t, so I’d appreciate it if you would please answer my question.’

  ‘Of course we can’t force you,’ said Gösta, ‘but a young girl is missing and we need all the information we can get our hands on, even if it seems irrelevant.’

  ‘Will my husband be told about this?’

  Patrik hesitated. ‘I can’t promise anything, but I see no reason why we should run and tell him. But,’ he hesitated, ‘Jacob does know about it.’

  She gave a start. Her hands began shaking again. ‘What did he say?’ Her voice was now no more than a whisper.

  ‘I won’t lie to you. He was upset. And of course he wonders who his real father is.’

  A heavy silence settled over the table, but Gösta and Patrik waited her out calmly. After a while she answered, still in a whisper. ‘It’s Johannes.’ Her voice took on strength. ‘Johannes is Jacob’s father.’

  It seemed to surprise her that she could say that sentence aloud without a bolt of lightning crashing through the roof and killing her on the spot. The secret must have grown heavier and harder to bear with each passing year, and now it seemed almost a relief for her to let the words spill from her lips. She kept talking, fast.

  ‘We had a brief affair. I couldn’t resist him. He was like a force of nature that just came and took whatever he wanted. And Gabriel was so … different.’ Laine hesitated over her choice of words, but Patrik and Gösta could easily fill in what she meant.

  ‘Gabriel and I had already been trying to have a child for some time, and when it became evident that I was pregnant he was overjoyed. I knew that the baby could be either his or Johannes’s, but despite all the complications it would involve, I fervently wished that it would be Johannes’s. A son by him would be … magnificent! He was so alive, so beautiful, so … vibrant.’

  A shimmer came into her eyes which brightened her features and in one blow made her look ten years younger. There was no doubt that she had been in love with Johannes. The thought of their affair, even after so many years, still made her blush.

  ‘How did you know that it was Johannes’s child and not Gabriel’s?’

  ‘I knew it as soon as I saw him, at the very second he was placed at my breast.’

  ‘And Johannes, did he know that Jacob was his son and not Gabriel’s?’ Patrik asked.

  ‘Oh yes. And he loved him. I always knew that I was only a passing amusement for Johannes, no matter how much I wanted something more, but with Jacob it was different. When Gabriel was out of town, Johannes would often come over to look at the boy and play with him. Until Jacob got old enough that he might say so
mething, and then Johannes had to stop,’ Laine said sadly. ‘He hated to see his brother raising his firstborn, but he was not prepared to give up the life he was living. And he wasn’t prepared to give up Solveig, either,’ Laine admitted reluctantly.

  ‘And how was life for you?’ Patrik asked with sympathy.

  She shrugged her shoulders. ‘At first it was hell. Living so close to Johannes and Solveig, seeing them with their boys, brothers to Jacob. But I did have my son, and later, many years later, I had Linda. And this may sound improbable, but over the years I actually came to love Gabriel. Not the same way I loved Johannes, but perhaps in a more realistic way. Johannes was not a person anyone could love at close range without being destroyed. My love for Gabriel is not as exciting, but it’s easier to live with.’

  ‘Weren’t you afraid that the truth would come out when Jacob got sick?’ asked Patrik.

  ‘No, there were other things I was much more afraid of,’ Laine said sharply. ‘If Jacob died, nothing would have any meaning, least of all who his father was.’ Then her voice softened. ‘But Johannes was so worried. He was in despair that Jacob was sick and there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t even show his fear openly, couldn’t sit by his son’s side at the hospital. It was hard for him.’ She lost herself in a distant time, but snapped out of it, forcing herself back to the present.

  Gösta got up to refill his coffee cup and raised the pot enquiringly to Patrik, who nodded. When he sat down again he asked, ‘Was there really no one who suspected anything, no one who knew? Have you never confided in anyone?’

  A frown passed over Laine’s face. ‘Yes, in a moment of weakness Johannes told Solveig about Jacob. As long as he was alive she never dared do anything about it, but after Johannes died she began insinuating things that turned into bigger and bigger demands as her money began to run out.’

  ‘So she practised extortion?’ said Gösta.

  Laine nodded. ‘Yes, for twenty-four years I’ve been paying her.’