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

by Viveca Sten

  Ebba also tried to talk to Felicia, but she just wasn’t interested. She was crazy about Victor and did exactly what he wanted her to do. She only mouthed off when she was really drunk; otherwise she was always on Victor’s side. Whenever Ebba broached her concerns, Felicia simply made excuses.

  It became more and more difficult for Ebba to confide in Felicia. They had been best friends all through high school, but now Felicia was well on the way to becoming a lost soul.

  When Ebba broke up with Tobbe, all she wanted to do was cry.

  At first, she thought she wouldn’t go to Sandhamn for the Midsummer weekend, but then she decided it might be a good opportunity. Somewhere deep down, she hoped everything would work out; maybe she and Tobbe would get back together.

  She was desperate to be with him.

  Then that girl came aboard—Tessan, with her big breasts. It was obvious what she was after. And Tobbe went for it; he didn’t even care that Ebba was sitting right there. It was as if he enjoyed making out with that . . . that KID while Ebba watched as he stroked her and kissed her.

  Behind her sunglasses, Ebba registered every movement, every caress, while struggling to hold back the tears. When Tobbe’s tongue found its way into Tessan’s mouth, she closed her eyes. She felt a weight pressing on her chest, and it was hard to breathe, but she wouldn’t let Tobbe see how unhappy she was, not at any price. That would be the end of her.

  For a while, she considered getting her revenge by coming on to his brother, but she couldn’t do it. Besides, Christoffer had always been kind to her.

  She lost it anyway, in spite of her resolve. She couldn’t remember what she’d yelled at them, just that she didn’t feel the least bit better afterward.

  She ran along the quayside with her throat aching and managed to get to the shore a short distance away. There was no one around, and she let the tears come. She cried and cried, sitting all alone by the sea.

  Fucking Tobbe with his fucking red hair. She ought to cut him out of her life; she was an idiot to care so much.

  It was a long time before she calmed down. She lay down exhausted on the sand, and she must have fallen asleep, because when she woke up the sun was going down and she was cold.

  After a while, she walked back to the harbor and found a toilet. The sight that met her in the mirror was alarming; her mascara had run, and there was sand in her tangled hair. She tried to tidy herself up; she washed her face and fixed her hair.

  She didn’t like the idea of going back to the boat, but all her stuff was there. When she arrived, everything was locked, and nobody had seen her friends. She tried calling both Tobbe and Felicia, but they didn’t answer.

  Eventually, after searching for hours, she went to the motor home the police were using as a temporary base.

  CHAPTER 37

  When Ebba had finished her story, she curled up in the chair, her eyes red with weeping.

  Margit couldn’t stop herself from leaning forward and giving her a hug; for a moment, the hardened cop was replaced by the warm-hearted mother of teenagers.

  Margit’s daughters, Anna and Linda, were only a few years older than Ebba. She was well acquainted with the heartbreak involved in teenage romance.

  Thomas thought about Elin. It was hard not to. He hoped she would never end up like this, sitting with strangers, utterly crushed.

  Margit squeezed Ebba’s shoulder and handed her a tissue.

  We need to tell her that Victor Ekengreen is dead, Thomas thought. He would prefer to wait until they’d spoken to Felicia; it was impossible to predict how the girls would react.

  There was a knock on the door, and Nora appeared.

  “Sorry to disturb you, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m going down to meet Ebba’s and Felicia’s parents. Felicia’s up and dressed. She’s in the kitchen.”

  Margit glanced at Thomas, who immediately understood what she meant. Should they talk to Felicia before her parents arrived? He gave a slight nod.

  Ebba was clutching her mug of tea. A string of snot was dangling from her nose, and she let go of the mug with one hand and wiped the mucus away with the crumpled tissue.

  “Didn’t Tobbe’s and Victor’s parents realize what was going on?” Margit asked. “All the partying? Didn’t they notice anything?”

  “I don’t know,” Ebba sniveled. “Tobbe lives with his mom, and Victor’s parents are always away.”

  “Your mom will be here to pick you up very soon,” Margit said quietly. “Then you can go home and sleep in your own bed. You’ll feel better in a few days, I promise.”

  Ebba looked inconsolable.

  CHAPTER 38

  Adam was back. He dumped his bicycle by the fence and reached the gate just as Nora opened the front door.

  “Hi, sweetheart. I guess you didn’t find her?”

  Adam shook his head.

  “Thanks for trying. It was really kind of you.”

  Adam lingered by the gatepost. “Why is Thomas here?”

  “He needed to have a little chat with the girls who stayed overnight.”

  “There are loads of cops over by Skärkarlshamn, and there’s police tape around a whole bunch of trees.”

  Nora ignored the unspoken question. “I have to go and meet the girls’ parents from the ferry,” she said instead.

  She grabbed her own bicycle and patted him on the cheek in passing. “Jonas is upstairs in my room,” she said. “He’s still trying to call Wilma’s friends to see if she’s with one of them.”

  Adam was drawing lines in the gravel with one foot. “Is Wilma involved in whatever’s happened in Skärkarlshamn?” he asked. “Is that why she hasn’t come home?”

  Nora couldn’t shake the bad feeling as she cycled down to the harbor.

  The seating area outside the Värdshuset Restaurant was crowded with people and strollers, and a line had formed by the small staircase leading up to the wooden deck. There were glasses of beer and rosé wine on the table, but the two police launches moored by the customs post provided a sobering reminder of the previous night’s events.

  The idea that Thomas and Margit were sitting on her veranda questioning Ebba and Felicia just didn’t seem real. Nora’s head was pounding, a combination of stress and the lack of sleep. She’d need to take a painkiller as soon as she got home.

  The anxiety wouldn’t go away. Could Wilma be involved in Victor Ekengreen’s death? What if someone had taken her cell phone and sent that message to Jonas? Someone who was holding her against her will?

  Stop that, she thought. There’s no point in getting upset, especially when Thomas doesn’t seem worried at all.

  Nora reached the steamboat jetty just as the white Vaxholm ferry passed through the Sound. It was Sandhamn, one of the largest ships serving the island. When she came over with Jonas and the kids last Thursday, it had been packed with excited Midsummer revelers.

  From a distance, she could see there were already lots of people on the jetty. The line of passengers waiting to travel back to the mainland snaked all the way past the kiosk, then continued for at least another fifty yards. Nora recognized several Sandhamn residents.

  The ferry hove to, and the crew lowered the gangway. There weren’t many arrivals, but three people immediately caught Nora’s attention: two women and a man about her own age, impatient to disembark.

  Both women were wearing white jeans and carrying large purses; the man was in blue pants and a white polo shirt.

  Nora realized they must be Ebba’s mother and Felicia’s parents and waved so that they’d see her.

  What was she going to say to them? Should she tell them about Victor? Was she even allowed to do that?

  Felicia glanced up at Thomas and Margit. Ebba had gone to the bathroom, leaving her alone with the two police officers.

  “Can’t we wait until Mom and Dad get here?” she said. “They won’t be long.”

  Thomas wished she hadn’t asked. It would have been better to question the girl without her parents,
then blame time pressure. There was a significant risk that she wouldn’t talk freely otherwise, but he knew the rules.

  The sound of the front door opening settled the matter.

  A woman’s voice called out “Felicia?” and the girl flew out of her seat.

  “Mom!”

  Felicia threw herself into her mother’s arms. She started sobbing loudly; her mother tried to calm her, but Felicia couldn’t control herself. Behind them stood a broad-shouldered man of about forty-five. That must be Jochen Grimstad, Thomas thought. Felicia bore a strong resemblance to her father.

  The bathroom door opened, and Ebba emerged. When she saw her own mother, she, too, collapsed.

  “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’ll never, ever do anything like this again. I’m so sorry!”

  Ten minutes later, the equilibrium had been restored, and Thomas had managed to get them all sitting down in Nora’s dining room. When Nora appeared with yet another tray of coffee, he felt a pang of guilt. Her home had been turned into a temporary police station. Nora looked exhausted to say the least, and he was reminded that she had her own problems to deal with.

  “Is Wilma home yet?” he said quietly when she came back from the kitchen with a jug of milk and a plate of cookies.

  “No, but she’s texted Jonas.”

  “Good.”

  Thomas exhaled; in that case, she had probably had a little too much to drink and had fallen asleep somewhere, just as he’d suspected.

  Before Nora had the chance to say anything more, they were interrupted by the sound of Thomas’s cell phone. It was Jens Sturup.

  “I just wanted to let you know that the body’s on its way to the forensic pathologist,” he said. “But Staffan Nilsson and his team will remain at the scene for a while longer.”

  “OK.”

  “A reporter’s come out, too, from TV4. There will probably be a piece on the evening news; this kind of thing spreads fast.”

  That was the last thing they needed, but Thomas didn’t have time to worry about that now. The press office would have to deal with it.

  He ended the call and went back into the dining room. The two mothers were conducting a conversation in whispers; it seemed as if they were talking about the Ekengreen family. Apparently one of them had tried to call Madeleine, but without success.

  Thomas immediately noticed that the atmosphere was strained; he needed to talk to Felicia as quickly as possible.

  “So,” he began, “we’d like to ask Felicia one or two questions, preferably on her own if that’s OK with you. Then we’ll tell you exactly what’s happened.”

  “Can’t it wait?” Jochen Grimstad objected.

  “I’m afraid not. We’d like to speak to her right away.”

  “My daughter is worn-out, as you can see. We’d prefer to take her home,” Jochen said, putting his arm around Felicia’s shoulders and giving Thomas a look, as if he suspected that something serious had happened and was about to demand that the police put their cards on the table.

  Thomas weighed the pros and cons of telling the truth. Once again, he reached the same conclusion: it would be better to question Felicia before she knew the situation.

  If she didn’t already.

  Margit spoke first. “It won’t take long, and we really would appreciate your cooperation. We’ve just had a chat with Ebba, and a few minutes alone with your daughter would be a great help, if you don’t mind.”

  Felicia pushed her hair back from her forehead and stood up. “It’s fine,” she said. “Just as long as you promise I can go home when we’re done.”

  Thomas nodded reassuringly, and Felicia led the way to the veranda.

  FELICIA

  Why had she yelled at him like that? She loved Victor, didn’t she? She was crazy about him.

  But she had never seen him so mad before, and it terrified her. When he left the boat, she ran after him. He was moving very fast, and she almost lost him, but then she spotted his back in the crowd. He was walking away from the harbor toward the minigolf course; he passed it and headed up a steep hill.

  “Victor!” Felicia shouted. “Wait for me!”

  She caught up with him at the top of the hill. “Slow down!”

  It sounded as if he hissed “fucking cunt,” but she hoped she’d misheard.

  “Victor.”

  She reached out and grabbed his T-shirt, but he pulled away and kept on walking. She started to cry; she just couldn’t help it. Please don’t let it be over. She’d die if he broke up with her.

  I’ll do anything as long as he doesn’t dump me, she thought in a panic. Anything at all.

  “Please,” she sniveled, “can’t we at least talk?”

  He slowed down a fraction but still didn’t say anything. She didn’t dare touch him, and she had to run to keep up; she decided to keep quiet in order to avoid provoking him any further.

  They reached an area where the forest opened out toward the sea. There were a group of people picnicking, but Victor kept going, past a long row of houses. He turned onto a forest path next to an impressive villa. Suddenly he veered off down toward the water, to a beach Felicia had never seen before.

  He kept on walking until almost the end of the sandy shore.

  “Can’t we sit down for a while?” Felicia gasped. She was out of breath and was having trouble keeping up.

  Without saying a word, Victor stopped dead between a large tree and a crevice in the rock face and sat down. The branches provided thick cover, and Felicia couldn’t see anyone, just a few gray wooden buildings that looked as if they were closed.

  She and Victor were alone.

  She sat down beside him, feeling anxious. She was still afraid of saying something that might make him angry with her again. She was struggling to hold back the tears; something told her he’d get even more annoyed if she kept crying. She didn’t want to fight with him; she just wanted everything to be OK.

  After a long time, she reached for his hand. He let her take it; he didn’t pull away. She felt a little better. Victor even smiled, but then Felicia suddenly felt sick and knew she was going to throw up.

  Victor lost his temper again and swore at her, even though she kept on saying sorry.

  She must have fallen asleep. When she woke up, he wasn’t there, and she couldn’t remember where she was. She was a mess; she was thirsty and shivering, and her head was pounding. She could hardly stand.

  At first, she didn’t know what to do, but she gradually found her way back to the harbor.

  But by then, Victor and the others were gone.

  CHAPTER 39

  Thomas opened the door of the dining room, where Felicia’s parents were waiting with Ebba and her mother. He pointed to a chair next to Jeanette Grimstad.

  “Sit down please, Felicia.”

  He had to tell them now; he couldn’t put it off any longer. He suspected that the group around the table wouldn’t appreciate that he’d kept quiet about Victor’s death, but it had been necessary. Felicia would never have spoken so openly if she’d known.

  He waited until the girl had joined her mother, then said, “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  Ebba pressed both hands to her mouth. Had she realized what he was about to say? Or was she afraid this was about her ex, the one with the red hair?

  Felicia seemed to have no idea that her boyfriend was dead. Nothing in their conversation had suggested that she was aware of the truth.

  Margit came and stood beside Thomas as he tried to find the right words. “Victor Ekengreen was found dead this morning.” He focused particularly on the two girls. “That’s why we needed to talk to you right away, why we couldn’t wait.”

  “Victor,” Felicia managed to say before collapsing in her mother’s arms.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Jeanette said, her voice trembling.

  Jochen Grimstad put down his cell phone. “What happened to him?” he said.

  “Unfortunately we think we’re looking at a homicide here,” Margit
replied. “Victor was found on the shore at Skärkarlshamn, and it looks as if someone deliberately took his life.”

  She paused to let the information sink in, then continued. “The investigation has only just begun; we don’t have very much information at this stage.”

  Felicia didn’t move. She stared at Thomas with unseeing eyes, as if she had disappeared into herself.

  “What does this mean?” her father said, frowning. “Why didn’t you tell us right away?”

  “We made the decision that it would be better to speak to the girls before they were told about Victor’s death,” Thomas said. “I hope you understand our position.”

  Grimstad’s anger was written all over his face. He drummed his fingers on the table.

  “I want to know whether my daughter is a suspect—or can we go home?” he demanded.

  Thomas tried to keep his feelings in check. If you want to complain, then go ahead, he thought. We have more important things to deal with than the fact that you’re offended. However, if he snapped at Grimstad, he would probably regret it.

  Margit came to his rescue. “Neither Ebba nor Felicia are suspected of anything at this stage. But we do need to be able to contact both of them over the next few days, so it would be helpful if you stayed in the Stockholm area.”

  Grimstad wasn’t standing for that. “We’ll be at our country property on Vindalsö. The number is in the telephone directory; if you want to get ahold of us, you can look it up. And now we’re leaving.”

  Ebba’s face was chalk-white. “What about Tobbe?” she whispered.

  “He and his brother are still on the boat,” Margit reassured her. “They’re fine.”

  Thomas saw the relief in Ebba’s eyes before she lowered her head.

  Nora had offered to walk down to the harbor with the group, but Felicia’s father had insisted there was no need.