In the Heat of the Moment (Sandhamn Murders Book 5)

by Viveca Sten

  “I’m very sorry,” Thomas said. “Unfortunately I don’t think we’ve made a mistake.”

  A grimace passed across the other man’s face, but he didn’t speak. Tears were dripping from the frame of Madeleine’s sunglasses. Thomas wanted to give her a reassuring pat on the arm but couldn’t bring himself to reach out. Instead he said, “If you’ll come with me . . .”

  The chalet at the Sailors Hotel had been empty over the Midsummer weekend. As soon as the initial examination had been completed, the corpse was moved. It was now in a body bag, lying on a gurney just inside the small red building.

  When they arrived, Anna was waiting outside with a gray-haired woman who introduced herself as Gunilla Apelkvist, the pastor from Saint Oscar’s church. The hotel had contacted her; she was only visiting the island but was happy to stay for a few hours if she could be of any help.

  Her long gray hair was pinned up with a barrette, but her face was unlined, and Thomas thought she was probably no older than fifty. It was a relief to have her there.

  “Do you feel ready?” he said, turning to Johan. “Would you both like to come in, or . . . ?”

  The question was left hanging in the air.

  Madeleine swayed, and Gunilla stepped forward and took her arm.

  “Maybe you’d prefer to wait here with me?” She pointed to the bench by the corner of the chalet. “We can sit down for a little while, give you the chance to collect your thoughts. I think that might be for the best.”

  Johan agreed. “Good idea. You stay here.”

  Thomas gave them a minute, then looked at Johan, who patted his wife on the cheek before taking a deep breath. He nodded to Thomas, who put the key in the lock and turned it. The door opened.

  Although it was sunny outside, the light in the compact hallway was dim. A faint smell was emanating from the dark shape on the gurney—or was that just Thomas’s imagination?

  Johan hesitated in the doorway, then stepped inside.

  Thomas opened the zipper running the length of the rubbery body bag. Gently he folded back the top part, revealing the boy’s face. He moved to one side so that Victor’s father could see.

  Johan reached out to touch his son, but his hand stopped in midair, the fingers grasping at nothing, then he doubled over.

  Thomas remained standing in the background; there was nothing he could say or do to ease the despair that filled the room.

  After a few seconds, Johan grabbed the gurney and sank down on his knees beside it, his head close to his son’s lifeless face.

  “Victor,” he whispered, his voice thick with grief, “Daddy’s here now.” He leaned forward, and with a trembling hand he traced the features of his son’s pale face, the chin, the mouth, the nose, and the cheeks. He paused at a recent mosquito bite, then allowed his fingers to move on, as if he were caressing a newborn baby who was about to fall asleep and needed to be soothed.

  He looked up at Thomas with a thousand questions in his eyes before focusing on Victor once more.

  “Why did it have to be you? Why you?” he whispered, pressing his lips to the boy’s forehead.

  At that point, the dam burst and the tears came. He pushed a clenched fist against his mouth in an attempt to pull himself together. Thomas waited.

  “You mustn’t show him to Madeleine,” Johan managed to say. “She can’t see him like this. Promise me.”

  Thomas nodded.

  Johan suddenly became aware of the deep wound in Victor’s head. He frowned, pushing back the fair hair that was sticky with congealed blood, following the dark trail down the boy’s cheek and ear, onto the stained collar of his polo shirt.

  With his fingertips, he read the blow that had taken his son’s life. His eyes darkened, and he clenched his fists so tightly that the knuckles turned white.

  “He’s going to regret this,” he breathed into Victor’s ear, so quietly that Thomas could only just make out the words. “I swear to you, Victor. Whoever did this is going to regret it.”

  Johan Ekengreen was stooped as he made his way out into the sunshine to rejoin his despairing wife.

  Madeleine had jumped up as soon as her husband appeared, and she began to scream before he could speak.

  “No, no, no!” she yelled, rushing toward the door. When Johan tried to stop her, she slapped him across the face. Her wedding ring broke the skin, and her husband’s blood colored the inlaid stones.

  “Let go of me, I have to get to Victor! I want to see him!”

  He held her tightly until she stopped struggling.

  Gradually the tears came, heartrending and inconsolable. Gunilla Apelkvist tried to hug her; Johan was weeping, too.

  Thomas stayed in the background. I don’t know what to do, he thought.

  CHAPTER 28

  Jonas was still sleeping when Nora crept into the bedroom to retrieve her laptop. Should she wake him? No, it had been a difficult night—better to let him sleep.

  It was five past twelve, and Wilma was still missing. Thomas hadn’t been in touch, even though Nora had texted him twice.

  Neither Ebba nor Felicia was showing any signs of life when Nora peeped in. Their parents would arrive on the Vaxholm ferry in just over two hours, at two fifteen.

  Nora carried the laptop down to the kitchen and plugged it in. It took quite a while for the slow modem to connect; reception in the archipelago left a great deal to be desired. Eventually the computer came to life.

  “Adam!” she called out.

  He was still lying on the sofa in front of the TV, but right now she needed his help.

  “Adam, can you come here, please?”

  “What for?”

  “Just come here instead of yelling.”

  “You’re yelling, too!” he shouted back, but a few seconds later, he appeared in the doorway.

  “Are you friends with Wilma on Facebook?” Nora asked him.

  Adam shook his head. “No. Why would I be?”

  Nora’s heart sank. Maybe her plan to track down Malena and her brother Mattias wasn’t as brilliant as she’d thought.

  Adam turned to head back to the TV; Nora could hear the theme music for an American series he liked. “But Simon is,” he said over his shoulder as he disappeared.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Think so.”

  “Wait, Adam, come back!”

  Adam reappeared, the look on his face making it clear that he wasn’t happy. “What now?”

  “You’re friends with Simon, I presume?”

  “Yes.”

  “In that case, this will work, if you do me a favor. We need to be Facebook friends.”

  Adam was horrified. “But you’re my mom. I can’t have you on there!”

  “I know, sweetheart. Don’t be difficult. I promise you can unfriend me as soon as I’m done. OK?”

  Adam was still suspicious. “What’s going on?”

  Nora explained. If Adam did as she asked, she would be able to access Simon’s Facebook friends, one of whom was Wilma, which would lead her to Malena’s surname.

  It was the only way of getting in touch with Malena’s family that she could think of. Margot might have known the name, but Jonas hadn’t managed to contact his ex; her cell phone had been off yesterday.

  “OK, then.”

  Nora moved to let Adam sit down. He quickly typed in his password and added Nora as a friend.

  “Can I go now?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  Nora sat down, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. Please let this work.

  CHAPTER 29

  Tobias and Christoffer Hökström had been brought in by the time Thomas arrived back at the outreach center. Harry Anjou was sitting opposite them at the conference table, but as soon as he saw Thomas, he stood up and came over.

  “The older boy is twenty,” he said quietly. “We might not have to wait for the parents if we speak to them both together.”

  Minors weren’t supposed to be interviewed without a parent or guardian being p
resent, but then this wasn’t a real interview, more of a conversation, Thomas reasoned. And it was urgent; soon all the Midsummer revelers would be gone from the island.

  He made up his mind and went over to say hello.

  “Would anyone like some water before we start?” he asked, turning on the faucet in the kitchenette.

  “Yes, please,” said the younger brother, who had introduced himself as Tobbe. His curly red hair resembled a woolly hat pulled down tight. A fresh bruise was clearly visible on his right cheekbone and was spreading toward his ear.

  Who gave you that? Thomas wondered.

  The older brother’s hair was more wavy, but there was a definite resemblance between the two boys; they had the same chin, the same scattering of freckles on the nose. They seemed at a loss, as if they had no idea why they were here.

  Thomas handed a glass of water to Tobbe and pulled out a chair. “We need to speak to both of you about a death that occurred on the island last night.”

  The brothers stared at him.

  “Why?” Christoffer asked.

  There was no way of making this any easier.

  “Unfortunately I have to inform you that your friend Victor Ekengreen has been found dead.”

  “Victor? Dead?” Tobbe stammered. “Are you crazy?”

  “I’m afraid it’s true. His body was discovered this morning,” Thomas said calmly.

  “But we were together yesterday!” Christoffer protested, leaping to his feet. “It’s impossible, he was with us yesterday, you’re wrong!”

  “I really am sorry. Please sit down.” Thomas got up and fetched more water. “There you go,” he said. “Have a drink.”

  Christoffer took the glass with his left hand. He stared uncomprehendingly at Tobbe, who looked as if he had been turned to stone. His expression was completely blank.

  Suddenly Tobbe pressed both hands to his stomach and bent over the table.

  “Do you feel sick?” Thomas asked.

  “Yes,” Tobbe mumbled. His face had taken on a greenish tinge.

  “Are you going to throw up? Do you want to lie down?”

  Tobbe shook his head and took a deep breath. After a while, he said, “Are you absolutely sure it’s Vic . . . are you sure it’s him?”

  His voice broke when he tried to say his friend’s name.

  “I’m afraid so. Victor’s parents have identified him.”

  “How did he die?” Christoffer asked, blinking furiously in a vain attempt to stop the tears from welling up.

  Thomas didn’t want to go into detail. “He suffered a head injury.”

  “Did he fall?” Tobbe whispered, his head still drooping.

  “We think he died as the result of a blow to the head,” Thomas replied quietly.

  Christoffer’s mouth dropped open. “You mean someone murdered him?”

  “That’s certainly one of the possibilities we’re investigating.”

  Tobbe straightened up. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Eventually he managed to speak. “Do you know who did it?”

  “We don’t, unfortunately, which is why it’s so important for us to speak to you. We’ll be contacting everyone who was with you yesterday so that we can find out what Victor did before he died. We have to understand what happened during those final hours.”

  Tobbe let out a sob and buried his face in his hands.

  Should I have waited for their parents? Thomas thought. No, there wasn’t time.

  He got up and fetched a bundle of paper napkins, and he placed them in front of the shocked teenager. Tobbe took one and blew his nose.

  “Are you OK?” Thomas said after a moment. “It would be good if we could continue, but if you’re not up to it, we can wait until later.”

  Harry Anjou looked as if he wanted to protest, but he said nothing.

  Tobbe blew his nose again. “I’m all right,” he said, and swallowed hard.

  His brother patted him clumsily on the arm.

  “So when did you last see Victor?” Thomas asked.

  “Yesterday evening,” Tobbe replied.

  “Can you be a bit more precise? We need to know what Victor did during his last day. Every detail could be important.”

  Tobbe turned his head away, sniveled, then began to talk.

  TOBBE

  When Tobbe woke up on the boat on Midsummer’s Day, it was past twelve.

  Jeez, tonight’s going to be fantastic, he thought as he stretched. He was sweating despite wearing only pants, but he was in a down-filled sleeping bag, and the sun was shining in the cabin windows.

  The girls were already up and dressed, while Victor was still in bed in the cabin in the stern.

  “Come on, guys!” Felicia shouted from the deck. “Let’s go down to the bakery and get some breakfast. I’m starving!”

  By the time they got back, the harbor was filling up with boats. Victor and Tobbe high-fived each other when a large yacht with several hot girls in bikinis on board moored up a short distance away.

  The afternoon drifted by as they hung out on deck. Later on, they would turn up the volume on the outdoor speakers and switch to harder, faster dance music that would raise the temperature, but for the time being, they were happy with good old summer songs mixed with Coldplay and Beyoncé.

  From time to time, someone’s cell phone would beep: text messages from friends who were also heading for Sandhamn. The table filled up with bottles and glasses.

  At some point, maybe around four thirty, someone shouted from the jetty. When Tobbe looked up, he recognized three girls from school. They asked if they could come aboard for a while. They’d only just finished eighth grade, but they were seriously cute.

  Victor grinned at the new arrivals and made an inviting gesture with his hand, in spite of the fact that Felicia clearly didn’t like it. Victor could be pretty brutal when he’d had a few drinks.

  The girls joined them and sat down; there was plenty of room in the stern. They had come over at lunchtime on the Vaxholm ferry and were using the guest cottage at a friend’s house on the island.

  They kept on chilling out; it was so nice sitting there in the sun. The boat was right in the middle of all the action; there were people everywhere. It was as if the harbor had been transformed into one great big festival, like Stockholm week on Gotland or even Båstad in July.

  Tobbe raised his glass in a toast with Victor.

  The new arrivals giggled at almost everything. The one who had the most to say for herself, Tessan, was hot. She was wearing a red bikini top with narrow straps and frayed denim shorts.

  He noticed her checking him out.

  After a while, she offered him a cigarette. And could he light hers?

  As he struck the match, she moved to sit next to him. She inserted the cigarette between her lips and leaned toward Tobbe’s hand.

  Her breasts bobbed every time she moved. When he held out the burning match, she got so close that they brushed against him.

  Victor was following the performance through half-closed eyes. Felicia was sitting beside him, obviously far from happy.

  Tessan took a drag and leaned back, her thigh pressing against Tobbe’s. Her skin was warm and suntanned. She blew out a long stream of smoke and smiled at him, eyes hidden behind her sunglasses. Just like him, she was wearing a pair of dark aviators.

  Ebba was sitting closest to the cabin, looking increasingly sour and glancing angrily at Tobbe from time to time.

  He still liked her even though they’d broken up. She’d been so difficult lately. He hadn’t actually expected her to come with them to Sandhamn, but no doubt Felicia had talked her into it; they did everything together.

  Tessan was definitely up for it; she kept “accidentally” touching him, and when she’d stubbed out her cigarette, she asked him if there was anything to drink.

  No problem. Christoffer had brought some booze, and Tobbe had stopped by the “vodka car,” an alcohol delivery service, before they left town.

  He fetched
a red Fanta from the galley and fixed himself and Tessan a strong drink. He didn’t bother with Ebba—she could get her own.

  The hours passed. He didn’t really feel drunk, just a little woozy, but of course he was drunk. When he stood up, he had to lean on the table for support, but he didn’t fall over, so that was OK.

  After a while, Tessan ended up on his lap. They kissed a few times. He had his arm around her, one of her breasts pressed against his chest; it was soft; she turned him on. The heat of her body was making the sweat trickle down his back, and it was so good, sitting there in the sun with her.

  He could see that Ebba was furious because he was making out with Tessan. She kept making nasty comments about little girls who would do anything for older guys.

  What the fuck, he wasn’t the one who’d started acting weird. But if she didn’t want to be with him, obviously there were others who did.

  Like Tessan.

  The thought made him smile, and he kept on kissing her. Part of him was enjoying the fact that he was doing it in front of Ebba. Tessan was only too happy to go along with it; she was starting to get pretty drunk, but that wasn’t exactly a disadvantage.

  Suddenly Ebba had had enough.

  “You’re so disgusting!” she yelled at him. “You are so fucking vile!”

  Tessan had no idea what was going on; she simply sat there on his lap, staring at the other girl.

  In a second, Ebba had jumped ashore and disappeared among the crowds. Felicia made as if to go after her, but Victor reached out and stopped her.

  “Let her go,” he said. “She’s just pissed because Tobbe’s scored.”

  Victor was drunk, too. He’d been drinking all afternoon, and his movements were uncoordinated. He tried to pull Felicia onto his lap, but Ebba’s departure had put her in a bad mood. She kept going on about her friend, until eventually Victor told her to shut the fuck up. Then he moved over to sit by Tessan’s friend, turning his back on Felicia.

  It was all going wrong, which made Tobbe feel kind of sad. They were there to party and have fun; why did everything have to be so complicated?

  Felicia was furious. She wouldn’t stop nagging Victor; he ignored her at first, but after a while, they were shouting at each other.