The Preacher

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by Camilla Lackberg


  He thanked him hastily after getting directions and hung up.

  ‘I think I know where they are, Martin. Gather everybody out in the yard.’

  Five minutes later, eight solemn officers were standing in the blazing sunshine outside. Four from Tanumshede, four from Uddevalla.

  ‘We have reason to believe that Jacob Hult is hiding nearby in the woods, in an old bomb shelter. He probably has Jenny Möller there, and we don’t know whether she’s dead or alive. So we have to act as though she’s alive and use the utmost caution in handling the situation. We’ll move forward carefully until we find the shelter, then we’ll surround it. In silence,’ Patrik said sharply, letting his gaze wander over them all but resting a bit longer on Ernst. ‘We’ll have weapons drawn, but nobody does anything without an express order from me. Is that clear?’

  Everyone nodded, their faces solemn.

  ‘An ambulance is on its way from Uddevalla, but they won’t be arriving with blue lights on. They’ll stop just outside the drive into Västergården. Sound travels far in the woods, and we don’t want him to hear that something is going down. As soon as we have the situation under control we’ll call in the EMTs.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we have some medics with us up front?’ asked one of the officers from Uddevalla. ‘It might be urgent by the time we find her.’

  Patrik nodded. ‘You’re right in principle, but we don’t have time to wait for them. Right now it’s more important to locate her quickly, and hopefully the EMTs will have arrived in the meantime. Okay, let’s move out.’

  Robert had described where they should go in the woods behind the house. A hundred metres farther away they would come to the path leading to the bomb shelter. The path was almost invisible if you didn’t know it was there, and Patrik almost missed it at first. They advanced slowly towards the goal and after about a kilometre he thought he could see something glinting through the foliage. Without a word he turned round and directed the men behind him to move forward. They spread out as quietly as possible and encircled the shelter, but it wasn’t possible to avoid a bit of rustling. Patrik grimaced at every sound and hoped the thick concrete walls would filter out any noise Jacob might overhear.

  He drew his weapon and out of the corner of his eye saw Martin do the same. They crept forward and cautiously tried the door. It was locked. Damn, what were they going to do now? They had no equipment with them to get it open and the only alternative was to urge Jacob to come out voluntarily. In trepidation Patrik knocked on the door and moved quickly to the side.

  ‘Jacob. We know you’re in there. We want you to come out!’

  No answer. He tried again.

  ‘Jacob, I know that you didn’t mean to hurt those girls. You were just doing what Johannes did. Come out and let’s talk about it.’

  He could hear how lame his words sounded. Maybe he should have taken a course in hostage negotiation, or at least brought along a psychologist. Lacking that, he would have to rely on his own instincts about how to talk a psychopath out of a bomb shelter.

  To his great surprise he heard the lock click a moment later. The door opened slowly. Martin and Patrik, standing on either side of the door, exchanged a glance. Both of them were holding their weapons in front of their faces and tensed their bodies to be ready. Jacob stepped out through the door. In his arms he was carrying Jenny. There was no doubt that she was dead, and Patrik could almost feel the disappointment and sorrow sweeping through the hearts of the policemen, who now stood fully visible with their weapons aimed at Jacob.

  He ignored them. Instead he was looking up and speaking into the air.

  ‘I don’t understand. I was chosen. You were supposed to protect me.’ He looked as confused as if the world were suddenly turned upside down. ‘Why did You save me yesterday if I’m not in Your grace today?’

  Patrik and Martin looked at each other. Jacob seemed completely out of it. But that made him all the more dangerous. There was no way to tell what he was going to do next. They kept their weapons steadily aimed at him.

  ‘Put down the girl,’ said Patrik.

  Jacob kept his eyes on Heaven, talking to his invisible God.

  ‘I know that You would have let me have the gift, but I need more time. Why do You turn away from me now?’

  ‘Put down the girl and get your hands in the air!’ said Patrik with more sharpness in his voice. Still no reaction from Jacob. He was holding the girl in his arms and didn’t seem to have any weapon on him. Patrik wondered whether he should tackle him to break the stand-off. There was no reason to worry about injuring the girl. It was too late for that.

  He had scarcely finished his thought when a tall figure came flying forward from the left. Patrik was so startled that his finger shook on the trigger, and he almost put a bullet into either Jacob or Martin. He watched with horror as Ernst’s lanky body flew through the air straight at Jacob, who dropped to the ground with a thud. Jenny fell out of his arms and landed right in front of him with a nasty hollow sound, like a sack of flour flung to the ground.

  With a triumphant expression Ernst twisted Jacob’s hands behind his back. He didn’t try to resist, but he still had the same astonished look on his face.

  ‘That’s how it’s done,’ said Ernst and looked up to receive the cheers of the crowd. They all stood as if frozen, and when Ernst saw the dark look on Patrik’s face he realized that once again he had acted without thinking.

  Patrik was still shaking after coming so close to shooting Martin. He had to control himself to keep from putting his hands round Ernst’s skinny neck and slowly throttling him. But they would deal with that later. Now the most important thing was to take Jacob into custody.

  Gösta got out a pair of handcuffs and went over to Jacob and fastened them round his wrists. Together with Martin he brusquely helped Jacob to his feet and then shot a questioning look at Patrik, who turned to two of the officers from Uddevalla.

  ‘Take him back to Västergården. I’ll be there right away. See to it that the ambulance crew come out here too and tell them to bring a stretcher.’

  They started to leave with Jacob, but Patrik stopped them. ‘Wait a minute, I just want to look him in the eyes. I want to see what somebody who can do this really looks like.’ He motioned towards Jenny’s lifeless body.

  Jacob met his gaze without remorse, but still with the same bewildered expression. He looked at Patrik and said, ‘Isn’t it strange? Last night to save me, God performed a miracle, and then today He lets me get caught?’

  Patrik tried to see in the man’s eyes whether he was serious, or whether all this was a game to try and save himself from the consequences of his own actions. The look that met him was as blank as a mirror; he was looking into the face of madness.

  Wearily he said, ‘It wasn’t God. It was Ephraim. You passed the blood test because Ephraim donated his bone marrow to you when you were sick. That meant that you received his blood and his DNA in your blood. That’s why your blood sample didn’t match the DNA test we took on the … evidence … you left on Tanja. We didn’t understand it until the experts at the lab mapped the relationships of your family. According to your blood test you were supposedly the father of Johannes and Gabriel.’

  Jacob simply nodded. Then he said gently, ‘But isn’t that a miracle?’ Then he was led off through the woods.

  Martin, Gösta and Patrik remained standing by Jenny’s body. Ernst had hastily slunk away with the police from Uddevalla, and he would probably do his best to keep a low profile for a while.

  All three of them wished they had a jacket to cover her with. Her nakedness was so vulnerable, so degrading. They saw the wounds on her body. Wounds that were identical to those Tanja had suffered. And probably the same as Siv and Mona had when they died.

  Despite his impulsive temperament Johannes had been a methodical man. His notebook showed how he had precisely recorded the wounds he inflicted on his victims, and then how he had tried to heal them. He kept records of it all like a scien
tist. The same wounds on both, in the same order. Perhaps to convince himself that it had some semblance of being a scientific experiment. An experiment in which they were unfortunate but necessary sacrifices. Necessary so that God would give him back the gift of healing that he’d had as a boy. The gift he had longed for his whole adult life and which became so acutely necessary to resurrect when Jacob, his first-born son, fell ill.

  It was an unhappy inheritance that Ephraim had left to his son and his grandson. Jacob’s imagination had been set in motion by Ephraim’s accounts of the healing Gabriel and Johannes had done during their boyhood years. For the sake of effect Ephraim had said that he saw the same gift in his grandson. That had engendered ideas which over the years were exaggerated by the illness that brought Jacob so close to death. Then he had found Johannes’s notebook, and judging by how dog-eared the pages were, he had returned to it time after time. It was a tragic coincidence that Tanja showed up at Västergården asking about her mother on the same day that Jacob received his terminal prognosis. All of these factors combined had led up to this moment, as the police officers stood looking at a dead girl.

  When Jacob dropped Jenny she had fallen on her side. It almost looked as though she were huddled up in the foetal position. In surprise Martin and Patrik saw Gösta unbutton his short-sleeved shirt and take it off. He exposed a chalk-white, hairless chest, and without a word he spread the shirt over Jenny and tried to hide as much as possible of her nakedness.

  ‘Don’t just stand there staring at the girl when she doesn’t have a stitch of clothing on,’ he said gruffly, crossing his arms to ward off the raw dampness in the shade of the trees.

  Patrik knelt down and spontaneously took Jenny’s cold hand in his. She had died alone, but she would not have to wait alone.

  A couple of days later the worst of the commotion had settled down. Patrik sat in front of Mellberg, wanting only to get it over with. The boss had demanded a full review of the case. Patrik knew that the chief’s motive was to learn enough so that he could tell tall tales for years to come about his participation in the Hult case. But that didn’t particularly bother Patrik. After personally delivering the news to Jenny’s parents, he had a hard time seeing either honour or fame in connection with the investigation. He gladly turned over that aspect to Mellberg.

  ‘I still don’t understand that part about the blood,’ Mellberg said.

  Patrik sighed and started explaining for the third time, speaking even more slowly.

  ‘When Jacob was sick with leukaemia, he received a bone marrow transplant from his grandfather Ephraim. That meant that the blood produced inside Jacob after the transplant had the same DNA as the donor, that is, Ephraim. In other words, Jacob then had the DNA of two people in his body. His grandfather’s DNA in his blood and his own in the other parts of his body. That’s why we got Ephraim’s DNA profile when we analysed Jacob’s blood sample. Since the DNA that Jacob left on his victim was in the form of semen, that sample retained his original DNA profile. So the two profiles didn’t match. According to SCL, the statistical probability for something like this happening is so small that it’s highly implausible. But not impossible …’

  Mellberg finally seemed to grasp the facts. He shook his head in amazement. ‘What bloody science fiction. We’ve heard just about everything now, Hedström, haven’t we? I must say that we did a damned good job on this case. The chief of police in Göteborg rang me personally yesterday and thanked us for our excellent handling of the case, and I couldn’t agree more.’

  Patrik had a hard time seeing what was excellent about it all, since they hadn’t succeeded in saving the girl’s life, but he chose not to comment. Sometimes things happened in spite of their best efforts. And there wasn’t much one could do about it.

  The past few days had been depressing. In a way it had been a grieving process. He was still sleeping poorly, haunted by images conjured up by the sketches and notes in Johannes’s book. Erica had restlessly hovered round him, and he had noticed that she too lay tossing and turning next to him at night. But somehow he hadn’t had the energy to reach out towards her. He had to work through this by himself.

  Not even feeling the baby’s movements in her belly could awaken the sense of wellbeing it had always given him before. It was as though he was suddenly reminded of how dangerous the world was, and how evil and crazy people could be. How would he be able to protect a child from all that? The result was that he pulled away from Erica and the baby. Away from the risk of someday having to go through the pain he had seen in Bo and Kerstin Möller’s faces when he stood before them and with a sob in his throat informed them that unfortunately Jenny was dead. How could anyone survive such pain?

  In the darker hours of the night he had even considered running away. Just clear out, bag and baggage. Away from all responsibility and duty. Away from the risk that his love for their child would become a weapon pressed to his temple, the trigger slowly pulled. He had always been dedication personified, yet for the first time in his life he seriously considered taking the coward’s way out. At the same time he knew that Erica needed his support now more than ever. Hearing that Anna and the children had moved back in with Lucas had made her despair. He knew that, but he still couldn’t reach out to her.

  He looked at Mellberg sitting in front of him. The chief’s mouth kept moving. ‘Yes, I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t see an increase in our share in the next budget round, considering the goodwill we’ve built up …’

  Blah, blah, blah, thought Patrik. Words that gushed forth, devoid of meaning. Money and honour, a bigger budget and commendations from superiors. Worthless measurements of success. He had an urge to take his cup of coffee and slowly pour the hot liquid over Mellberg’s bird’s nest of hair. Just to shut him up.

  ‘Yes, and your contribution will be noted, of course,’ Mellberg said. ‘As a matter of fact I was saying to the chief of police that I had great support in the investigation from you. But please don’t remind me that I said that when it comes time to talk about salary,’ Mellberg chuckled and winked at Patrik. ‘The only thing that concerns me is the part about Johannes Hult’s death. You still don’t have any idea who murdered him?’

  Patrik shook his head. They had talked to Jacob about it, but he honestly seemed to be as much in the dark as they were. The murder was still marked unsolved and it appeared likely to remain so.

  ‘It would certainly be the icing on the cake if you could sew up that part too. It wouldn’t hurt to get a little gold star next to your commendation, would it?’ Then Mellberg’s expression turned serious. ‘And naturally I’ve noted your criticism of Ernst’s actions, but considering his many years on the force I think we ought to be magnanimous and draw a line through that little episode. I mean, everything turned out all right in the end.’

  Patrik remembered the feeling of his finger quivering on the trigger with Martin and Jacob in his line of fire. Now his hand holding the coffee cup began to shake. As if of its own accord, the hand began to raise the cup and slowly move towards Mellberg’s barely covered pate. The cup stopped abruptly when there was a knock at the door. It was Annika.

  ‘Patrik, there’s a call for you.’

  ‘Can’t you see that we’re busy?’ Mellberg hissed.

  ‘I really think he’ll want to take this call,’ she said, giving Patrik an insistent look.

  Puzzled, Patrik stared at her but she refused to say anything. When they got to her office she pointed at the receiver lying on the desk and discreetly stepped out in the corridor.

  Patrik put the phone to his ear.

  ‘Why the hell don’t you have your mobile turned on?’

  He looked at his phone hanging in its case on his belt and realized it needed charging.

  ‘The battery’s dead. Why?’ He didn’t understand why Erica was getting so worked up. She could still reach him through the switchboard.

  ‘Because it’s starting! And you didn’t answer your landline and then you didn�
�t answer your mobile either and then – ’

  He interrupted, confused. ‘What do you mean, it’s starting? What’s starting?’

  ‘Labour, you idiot. The pains have started and my waters broke! You have to come get me, we have to leave right now!’

  ‘But I thought you weren’t due for three weeks?’ He still felt confused.

  ‘The baby obviously doesn’t know that, it’s coming now!’ Then he heard only the dial tone.

  Patrik stood transfixed with the phone in his hand. A goofy grin began to play over his lips. His baby was on the way. His and Erica’s baby.

  On trembling legs he ran out to the car and yanked at the door handle a couple of times in confusion. Somebody tapped him on the shoulder. Behind him stood Annika with the car keys dangling in her hand.

  ‘It would probably be quicker if you unlocked the car first.’

  He snatched the keys from her hand and waved a hasty goodbye as he stomped the gas pedal to the floor and zoomed off towards Fjällbacka. Annika looked at the black tyre marks he left on the asphalt. Laughing she went back to her place at the reception desk.

  13

  AUGUST 1979

  Ephraim was worried. Gabriel was still stubbornly claiming that it was Johannes he’d seen with the missing girl. He refused to believe it, but at the same time he knew that his son was the last person who would ever lie. For Gabriel, truth and order were more important even than his own brother, and that’s why Ephraim was having such a hard time dismissing the claim. He kept thinking that maybe Gabriel had simply been mistaken. The twilight could have made his eyes deceive him, or else he was fooled by the formation of shadows, or something like that. Ephraim could hear for himself how farfetched that sounded. But he also knew Johannes. His carefree, irresponsible son who played his way through life. Would he really be capable of taking someone’s life?

 

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