by Sten, Viveca
“Come with me,” he said, taking her hand.
“Where are we going?”
“Come on.”
He led her past the Mermaid’s Grotto and into the forest, dappled light filtering down through the treetops. Soon they reached the other side of the island, where the southern shore spread before them.
They sat down on a boulder by the waterline. Karolina rested her head on Thorwald’s shoulder, and he gently put his arm around her. She smelled so good, he thought, a warm scent that was different from everyone else’s. He always thought of fresh milk when he was close to her.
“What are you going to do in the fall?” Karolina asked after a while, without looking at him. He immediately knew what she meant.
They had just over a month left in the school on Sandhamn. If he was to continue his studies, as Gottfrid wished, then he’d have to go to the mainland. Thorwald doubted his grades would be good enough, but he couldn’t think about that right now. His father’s demands and expectations weighed heavily on his shoulders.
“I’m not sure yet.” He drew Karolina closer. “We’ll see what happens after the summer.”
“Mom married Dad the day she turned eighteen,” Karolina said softly. “They met their last year in junior high. Just like us.”
Thorwald’s heart leaped. He had never dared think that far ahead before. It was still a miracle that Karolina wanted to spend time with him. The fear of losing her was so strong that he could only cope with one day at a time. He was just happy that he’d been held back a year. Otherwise he might never have found her.
He brushed her forehead with his lips.
“Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”
“If you go to high school, you’ll have to leave the island.”
“But I’d be back for the holidays.”
“You might forget us once you’re gone . . .”
He shook his head. “Never.”
“If you decide to be a pilot, you’ll be away forever. Like my brother.”
“I’m not going to be a pilot,” Thorwald assured her. Being a pilot meant passing exams and spending several years at sea. That was much too long to be away from Karolina; anyway, it wasn’t for him.
Thorwald enjoyed working with his hands; he was skilled with tools. Carpentry, that’s what he’d like to do. A good carpenter could always find work.
“If you’re going to have a family, you need to be able to support yourself,” Karolina continued pensively.
“It’ll be fine.” Thorwald smiled at her. Karolina was planning their future. It was the first time she had talked this way, and he loved it. All his life he had felt like an outsider in his own family, unloved by his father, in the shadow of his sister.
Now there was the prospect of a partnership, somewhere he belonged.
He pictured a little red-painted cottage with Karolina standing on the front step. She was wearing a white apron and smiling at him. They would always be happy, and he would never raise his hand to her.
“How many children do you want?”
Her question interrupted his daydream. This was a new consideration. He had hardly dared dream of a shared future with Karolina; imagine having a family of his own!
He shrugged and tried to seem unconcerned. She must have been thinking about this a lot, he realized. A warm wave of happiness flooded his body. He tipped back his head and looked up at the blue sky. A few clouds came drifting across from Gråskärsfjärden, and he gazed contentedly at the wisps of white far above.
“How many?” Karolina repeated, a knowing smile playing over her lips. “I want at least three,” she went on, answering her own question. “Preferably a girl first, to help me around the house, then two boys who can go fishing and hunting with you.”
He held her even more tightly.
“Karolina,” he whispered. The name sounded like a caress. “Karolina. We’ll always be together, you and I.”
CHAPTER 37
Nora picked up the black notebooks from Aunt Signe’s house and settled down on the veranda. Both boys had gone to play at Fabian’s house. She had calmed down after her walk; no doubt the whole thing had been a figment of her imagination.
She didn’t know why she kept getting so agitated, thinking someone was after her. The events of the past week must have had more of an effect on her than she’d realized. There was no other explanation. Developing a persecution complex on top of everything else—that really would be the icing on the cake.
The veranda was Nora’s favorite place in this house, but the radiator couldn’t quite combat the cold from the windows. She pulled on an old cardigan, then put her feet on a stool she’d bought at the special auction held at the island harbor every two years. The atmosphere was always festive, and people donated all kinds of things.
Last summer the highlight had been when a group of kids bid on an old dinghy; they had been saving money for weeks, returning bottles and jars for the deposit. As soon as the auctioneer reached the dinghy, a seven-year-old made his move.
“One thousand and fifty-seven kronor and fifty öre,” he had called out, loud and clear. Everyone grinned, and no one even considered making a higher offer.
Nora picked up one of the diaries and began to read.
February 20, 1928
It’s so cold out, there’s frost on the inside of the windows in our classroom. Mom says it’s as cold as it was during the war. Miss Edith says we’re going to go ice-skating. I’d love to try; it would be so much fun!
Today I offered Thorwald and his sister cookies after school. He didn’t say much, but he seemed pleased when I held out the tin and insisted. Kristina took too many, of course. She’s so horribly spoiled, I really don’t like her very much, even though she’s only a little girl.
Augusta was annoying—she kept teasing me. She said Thorwald secretly watches me when we’re in class. He’s so good with his hands, he can make just about anything. He once helped Miss Edith fix her desk when the wood had split down at the bottom, and it looked like new.
February 24, 1928
We skated together all afternoon. It was scary, but such fun! Thorwald was really good, and he’s so strong. He was really sweet to me the whole time. I pretended to fall over just as he came by, and he stopped and helped me up right away. Augusta saw what happened, but she didn’t say anything even though she knew I’d done it on purpose. I held on to his arm, and he stayed with me instead of going off to play bandy with the other boys.
February 28, 1928
Today I went for a walk with Thorwald. I hardly dared ask, but he said yes without even hesitating. I thought I would die with happiness. We went past the churchyard, and we were all alone in the forest. He was so lovely.
Nora smiled at the emotions bubbling over in Karolina’s words. There was no doubt the girl was head over heels in love. She had written page after page about her love for this Thorwald.
Nora thought longingly of Aunt Signe. She could almost pick up her scent, a delicate, old-fashioned mixture of talcum powder and baking. A feeling of melancholy came over her. Signe had been a strong, wise woman in spite of the things she had done before taking her own life. Nora wished she could find that same strength now. She had no idea how she was going to get through everything that lay ahead.
She closed her eyes for a moment, the book resting in her hands. Karolina had been so in love with her young man, and Nora envied her that feeling.
However, as she read on, she noticed a growing sense of unease. Karolina was worried about Thorwald’s home life; it was clear that his father treated him badly. He often had bruises, and Karolina wrote about his father’s strictness and fervent religious beliefs. It transpired that Thorwald’s father was an active member of the Mission, a man who followed the word of the bible to the letter, particularly when it came to punishing his family. In her childish way Karolina wrote about a faith that seemed to border on fanaticism.
Reading between the lines, Nora learned that the boy’s fami
ly lived in fear of the father’s unpredictable moods, which often found their outlet in violence. Karolina was also concerned he would try to stop them from seeing each other, but she didn’t dare discuss the matter with her own parents.
June 24, 1928
Thorwald didn’t come to the midsummer celebrations yesterday, even though we had arranged to meet. I waited all afternoon, but there was no sign of either him or Kristina. I asked Arvid if he knew anything, but he couldn’t help. In the evening I walked past their house, but my courage failed and I couldn’t bring myself to knock on the door. What if I made a fool of myself? What if he doesn’t like me anymore?
June 26, 1928
It’s now four days since I spoke to Thorwald. Oh why, why, why didn’t he come to the dance? I had new shoes and a pretty dress with a pink sash that my darling mom had ordered from Stockholm.
I was so looking forward to midsummer. Why didn’t he come? I want to stop thinking about him, but I just can’t. Did he ever really care at all?
The rest of the diary was filled with sorrowful soul-searching, and tearstains were visible even now on the thin pages. When Nora reached the last entry, Karolina still hadn’t seen Thorwald since his failure to show up on Midsummer’s Eve.
What had happened to Karolina and her beloved Thorwald?
Tomorrow she must go back to the Brand villa and pick up some more diaries. She really wanted to find out how things had gone for the young couple. She glanced at her watch: almost five. It was high time she started on dinner, but she couldn’t tear herself away and went on flipping through the notebooks.
Signe had mentioned her Aunt Karolina occasionally, but Nora had no memory of meeting her. She recalled a photograph of her in Signe’s house, though, as a grown woman staring stiffly into the camera. She wore a serious expression, and her hair was smoothed back. It was impossible to imagine her as a young girl.
It would be interesting to find a picture of Karolina in her teens, Nora thought. To see what she looked like when she was in love with the young man she described so vividly in her diaries.
The sound of the front door opening reminded her to go make dinner. Then she’d call her mother. Susanne was born and bred on Sandhamn; she must know what had become of Signe’s aunt.
Sandhamn 1928
The bird cherry was in bloom and the birch trees had just come into leaf. The light lingered during the long June nights as the sky shifted from pale gray to dark blue. The scents of early summer filled the air.
“We’re having guests on Midsummer’s Day,” Karolina said.
“Mmm.”
Thorwald was tired. His days were filled with chores, and all night he thought of Karolina. As dawn broke he lay awake, dreaming of the shared future she had talked about. For the first time in his life he felt hope. With Karolina, he was invincible. He fantasized about a home of his own where everything would be peaceful and secure, and where Gottfrid would not be welcome.
Right now he was lying with his head resting in her lap; they were all alone at the end of the headland known as Västerudd. The area was uninhabited, and it was quiet and restful.
They had followed the narrow path past Fläskberget and the churchyard, in among the pine trees and the blueberry bushes, where tiny pink berries had formed; they would gradually ripen into sweet blue fruit. Eventually they had reached the tip of the island, a spit of land where the sea was visible in both directions. They had sat down on the rough, flat rock, with Eknö Sound ahead and to the side.
The school year had just ended, and Thorwald’s grades had failed to meet his father’s expectations, though they hadn’t been as bad as he’d feared. Strangely enough, Gottfrid hadn’t punished him too severely, apart from a blow to the head.
Gottfrid had far more serious worries at the moment.
Rumor had it the Royal Customs Service was going to severely reduce its presence on Sandhamn, in spite of the fact that there’d been a post on the island since the 1700s, and many ships still passed this way en route to Stockholm.
During the spring, several documents had arrived at the office, and they did not bode well for those in the service of the crown. In the evenings Gottfrid came home with a deeply furrowed brow. He would sit for hours at the kitchen table, reading the bible and mumbling to himself.
Sometimes he would grab his coat and leave with no explanation. Thorwald had no idea where his father went, but he made sure to keep out of the way as much as possible. The smallest misstep could trigger a vicious slap, or worse.
Vendela became more and more cowed; even Kristina watched what she said when her father was around.
Gottfrid vacillated between unpredictable outbursts and oppressive silence, and the atmosphere at home grew increasingly tense. It was like waiting for an approaching storm; sooner or later there would be an explosion, Thorwald was sure of it.
“We’re having guests,” Karolina repeated cheerfully, “from Nämdö. Mom’s cousin is coming to stay for a few days. He has two daughters, and one of them—Josefina—is a little bit in love with André. She trails around after him like a puppy.”
She laughed delightedly at the thought of her second cousin making eyes at her big brother.
André was seven years older than Karolina; he had just returned home after seven years at sea. In the fall he would start pilot training at navigation school, just as family tradition dictated.
“I might not be able to see so much of you while they’re here; Mom wants me to help out with everything.”
“Mmm.”
Karolina carried on chattering away, oblivious to the fact that she wasn’t getting much of a response. Thorwald was just happy to be close to her, and lay there dozing. No one would miss them for another hour or so. Karolina smelled of fresh milk and apple blossom, and he loved to inhale the sweet scent of her.
“Thorwald, have you heard a single word I’ve said?”
He opened one eye and met her clear blue gaze, full of tenderness, warmth, and love. One braid fell forward and brushed his cheek. It was as soft as silk, and he reached up and gave it a gentle tug. Karolina had no choice but to bend her head, and he could feel her breath against his skin. He tried another tentative tug.
A faint smile played across her lips. They were so close to his own that it took only an imperceptible movement to meet them.
CHAPTER 38
“How’s it going?”
Thomas was absorbed in paperwork, and it took a couple of seconds before he realized that the voice belonged to Mats Larsson. The profiler was standing at his office door, a friendly expression on his face.
“I did knock,” Larsson pointed out.
“Sorry. Come on in and sit down.” Thomas pointed to the visitor’s chair, then made an attempt to tidy up some of the documents strewn across his desk.
“I found your briefing very interesting,” he said as he stuffed files into a cabinet behind him.
“Did it help at all?”
“Absolutely, though I’m not sure what conclusions we can draw in this particular case.”
“Do you have a theory of your own?”
Larsson fired the question at him, as if he had been waiting for the opportunity to ask. Thomas didn’t respond immediately. He was reluctant to discuss his hazy ideas with an experienced psychologist. On the other hand, that was why Larsson had been brought in.
“Hey, I’m here to help,” Larsson said with a smile, like he was used to reticent detectives.
Thomas made up his mind.
“Last year we visited both the Sailors Hotel and the Sands Hotel and went through their guest lists,” he began. “The Sands was closed at the time of Lina’s disappearance, and the people staying at the Sailors were mostly families with children, because it was the midsemester break. Kalle is in the process of contacting everyone, but so far we haven’t found anything out of the ordinary.”
“Which suggests that the person you’re looking for has a house on the island.”
“Right. But it c
ould also be someone who was just visiting, someone who had borrowed or rented a cottage.”
“How about the ferry staff?”
Thomas made a face. “They don’t keep passenger lists, so there isn’t even a record of who visited the island that weekend. They just check tickets on board.”
He dug out a sheet of paper and pushed it across the desk.
“We spoke to the crew of M/S Sandhamn back in the fall, but no one could remember anything out of the ordinary.”
“If we assume we’re dealing with someone who lives on the island, then the question is whether it’s a permanent resident or a visitor. Any thoughts on that score?” Larsson looked searchingly at Thomas; judging by his expression, he had already considered the issue.
“Like I said, it was the midsemester break, so there were probably plenty of visitors,” Thomas said. “Any other week at that time of year, I would have put money on a permanent resident, but . . . What do you think?”
“How many people live on Sandhamn?”
“Between a hundred and a hundred and twenty; it varies. In the summer it’s two or three thousand. During the school break in November there might have been around a hundred visitors.”
“The risk of being caught suggests to me that it might not be a resident; the social control in such a small society is very strong. Everyone keeps an eye on everyone else; very little can stay hidden in the long run.” Larsson rubbed his chin as he thought. “By the way, any luck with the hunting license front? Were there many people in the database with a connection to Sandhamn?”
Thomas shrugged apologetically. “Unfortunately Erik is still working on it. He’s trying to crosscheck that data against the property registry, but the second homeowners are hard to track. It’s taking some time.”
Larsson nodded pensively. “Anything from the public?”