The Man Who Wasn't There
Page 45
‘Ursula.’
‘Hi, it’s me,’ he said brightly. ‘Torkel,’ he added, to be on the safe side.
‘I can see that. How are you?’
‘I’m fine. Absolutely fine.’ He took a deep breath, which almost turned into a belch, but he managed to convert it into a hiccup. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m fine too, thanks.’
‘Good.’
‘Was there something you wanted?’ Ursula asked after a few seconds of silence.
Torkel stopped by the window and scratched his head. He couldn’t come up with anything convincing, so he told her the truth.
‘No, I just wanted to talk to you.’
‘OK, but things are a bit . . .’
She glanced at Sebastian, who got up and took their plates over to the dishwasher.
‘I love you.’
Ursula was glad Sebastian had his back to her. She didn’t quite know how she reacted, but given that she almost dropped the phone, surprised was probably an understatement. What was she supposed to say? That was definitely the last thing she had expected to hear from her boss.
‘I know you’ve got Mikael and everything,’ Torkel went on, saving her from having to respond to his declaration, ‘but if you ever break up . . . I’m waiting. I love you.’
Ursula still couldn’t think of anything to say. She could feel Sebastian looking at her, but didn’t want to meet his gaze.
‘That’s nice,’ she managed eventually; she had to say something. There was silence on the other end of the phone; she wanted to break it, but had no idea how. Torkel cleared his throat as if he had realised he had put her in an impossible position.
‘It was stupid of me to call, but I wanted you to know.’
‘I knew already.’
Torkel seemed to be in a hurry to bring the conversation to an end; she didn’t think he had heard her response.
‘Anyway, sorry,’ he said. ‘See you tomorrow.’
‘See you.’
Then he was gone. Ursula slowly put down her phone as she tried to regain control of her facial expression, her thoughts and her voice. After a few seconds she looked up at Sebastian.
‘That was Torkel.’
‘What did he want?’
‘Nothing. Work. He’d had a few drinks, I think . . .’
Sebastian obviously didn’t need to know any more. He pointed to the espresso machine.
‘Coffee in the living room?’
Ursula nodded and got to her feet. It would be a while before she forgot that particular conversation.
Ellinor keyed in the code, and when the door buzzed she pushed it open and walked in. She switched on the light and looked around the familiar entrance hall. No doubt he thought she was stupid. He expected her to turn up when he was on his guard. Ring the doorbell and make a scene. Bombard him with calls and text messages. But she had kept her distance. She hadn’t called, hadn’t sent a text, hadn’t come round. She had bided her time. If Ellinor knew Sebastian, and unfortunately she thought she did, he had probably forgotten her by now. He would have congratulated himself on getting rid of her so easily, and once he had kicked her out and humiliated her, he wouldn’t have given her another thought. But she was about to change that. Show him that he couldn’t treat her that way. Men had tried it before.
Göran, for example.
The local defence volunteer in Aspudden.
That was how he introduced himself: Göran Jönsson, local defence volunteer. For most people the activity fell between a necessary evil and a pleasant hobby, but for Göran it was nothing less than a vocation. He really did take his duties seriously; he might well be able to save Sweden single-handed if the Russians came. It would be the Russians, Ellinor had learned. It was always the Russians.
But Göran had had to leave his beloved defence group. It was his own fault. If he hadn’t threatened to hit her, she would never have felt the need to arm herself. Never taken an interest in his Glock, which weighed exactly 874 grams.
She set off up the stairs. She had run up here so many times, eager to see her darling Sebastian. It was as if she started living only when she came home to him; the rest of her days, when they were not together, were drab and colourless. She had been sure he felt the same. He didn’t. He never had. She reached the right floor and walked up to his door.
A spyhole. Because of her? Well, at least she had left some trace of herself in his apartment. Soon she would leave another. She had just decided how.
* * *
Sebastian poured two cups of coffee while Ursula settled down on the sofa, puffing up the cushions behind her.
‘I’ll stay over, if that’s OK with you.’
‘You don’t need to ask, the bed’s made up.’
‘Do I have to sleep in the guest room?’
Sebastian carefully put down the coffee pot on the table, as if any sudden movement might make Ursula realise what she had just said and change her mind.
‘No . . .’
Ursula nodded with satisfaction and tucked her feet up on the sofa. ‘So tell me,’ she said with an expectant little smile.
‘Tell you what?’
‘About the dream.’
Sebastian sighed deeply as he sat down in the armchair opposite her. He really had hoped this wouldn’t come up again, particularly not right now, when he was already visualising what was going to happen in the bedroom in the not too distant future.
‘Why do you keep on about it?’
‘Why do you keep ducking and diving? If you don’t tell me, I’ll be spending the night in the guest room. Or I’ll go home.’
Sebastian looked at her; she was still smiling, but he knew she was serious.
‘You want me to confess in exchange for sex?’
‘Exactly.’
‘And you think this is going to work?’
‘Absolutely.’
He sighed again. She knew him so well. But he didn’t necessarily have to run the race in order to win the prize; Sebastian Bergman was no stranger to a little subterfuge.
‘And I’ll know straight away if you’re lying,’ Ursula said as if she had read his mind. Once again, she knew him well. Too well.
‘I need a pee first.’
Ursula leaned forward and peered into her cup.
‘Have you got any milk?’
‘In the fridge – you know where it is.’
She raised one eyebrow, got up and went back into the kitchen.
* * *
Ellinor stood motionless on the landing, waiting. The light went out. It took a few seconds for her eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness, but then she could see the light from inside the apartment through the spyhole. She would easily be able to tell when Sebastian was looking out. He would be so surprised. If he had time.
She rang the doorbell and reached into her bag.
* * *
Sebastian was in the toilet when the doorbell rang.
‘I’ll get it,’ Ursula called on her way back from the kitchen.
She went over to the door, and out of habit put her eye to the spyhole. Stupid, of course; whoever was out there hadn’t come to see her, and she didn’t know any of Sebastian’s friends. To be honest, she was surprised he had friends.
It was pitch-dark in the stairwell. Whoever was out there didn’t seem to have switched on the light
* * *
Ellinor saw the pinprick of light from the hallway disappear as an eye was pressed against the spyhole on the inside. She placed the Glock against the convex lens and pulled the trigger.
Acknowledgements
As always, thanks to everyone at Norstedts: Eva, Linda, Catherine, Sara, Tulle, Zandra, Loveina and everyone else who works so hard to make sure our books are read. We really appreciate all the effort you put in.
Once again special thanks to Susanna Romanus and Peter Karlsson for your unshakeable optimism and constant support. It means a great deal to us.
Thanks to our overseas publishers for believing in us,
and for your commitment to getting Sebastian out there all over the world.
Thanks once again to Rolf Lassgård for everything you have given us when it comes to the creation of Sebastian Bergman. You are a joy to exchange ideas with, and a true inspiration.
HANS:
I would particularly like to thank all the fantastic staff at St Erik’s eye hospital in Stockholm, above all Dr Manoj Kakar, whose skill and vast professional expertise mean that I won’t have to read Braille for the rest of my life.
Camilla Ahlgren, who has been my dear friend for the past twenty years, and who makes my life easier by taking on so much responsibility for the projects on which we work.
And of course to my family: Lotta, Sixten, Alice and Ebba. Thank you for all the love and all the laughter.
MICHAEL:
I would like to thank all my colleagues at Tre Vänner, with Jonas, Mikael, Tomas, Johan and Fredrik leading the way. My warmest thanks go, as always, to my wonderful family. You are my backbone through thick and thin. Caesar, William, Vanessa and my darling Astrid, I love you all. You are amazing, and you are the most important part of my life. A million hugs. And then some more.
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Epub ISBN: 9781473535367
Version 1.0
Published by Century 2016
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Copyright © Michael Hjorth and Hans Rosenfeldt, 2012,
published by agreement with Salomonsson Agency
Translation copyright © Marlaine Delargy, 2016
Cover photograph: Trevillion
Roundel photograph: Alamy
Michael Hjorth and Hans Rosenfeldt have asserted their right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the authors of this work.
This edition first published in Great Britain in 2016 by Century
First published as Fjällgraven by Norstedts, Sweden in 2012
Century
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 9781780894577 (hardback)
ISBN 9781780894584 (trade paperback)