He leafed through the sheets of paper he had gathered up and pulled out Nicole’s latest – no, her last drawing.
‘She drew, we talked, the barriers she had put up to protect herself started to break down, she was opening up. Not in words, not yet, but we would have got there. If we’d had a little more time.’ He managed to make the final sentence sound every bit as accusatory as he intended as he passed her the picture. Vanja ignored the implication and looked down at the sheet of paper. She recognised the room from the photographs of the scene of the crime: it was the room beyond the kitchen in the Carlsten house.
‘What’s this?’
‘Nicole and her cousin watching television together just before the murders.’
Vanja looked up enquiringly.
‘I thought you said she only drew what had happened after the murders.’
‘No, I said she drew things that were connected to the murders.’
‘So why did she draw this?’ Vanja nodded at the paper in her hand. ‘Everything looks perfectly normal here.’
Sebastian sighed. This wasn’t exactly going the way he had hoped. He had shown her the picture to make her understand that he was still working; in spite of the fact that Maria and Nicole had moved in, he was still helping the girl to process the experiences she had gone through. Vanja’s actions had put an end to that important task. He wanted to put her under pressure, make her admit that she was wrong and he was right. At the same time, he couldn’t help feeling pleased, perhaps even delighted, that she had stayed and made herself at home.
In his apartment. His daughter.
‘I don’t know,’ he said, vaguely irritated with both Vanja and himself. ‘In her mind there’s a connection to the terrible events that followed, somehow.’
Vanja looked more closely at the picture.
‘Frank Hedén had a blue Ford pickup, and the Carlstens had a white hybrid.’
‘So?’ Sebastian had no idea why Vanja was suddenly showing an interest in cars.
‘Nicole has drawn a red car. Outside the window.’
Sebastian reacted immediately; he took the picture from Vanja and stared at it. She was right. Outside the square window with the white curtains pulled back, a red car was clearly visible. How could he have missed it?
‘If everything she draws is connected to the murders … Could Frank have used a different car?’ Vanja said, thinking out loud. ‘Or was there more than one person involved?’
Sebastian wasn’t really listening. As with everything else Nicole had drawn, there was detail on the red car. A blue-and-white sticker on the back window.
He stared at the image as if he was hoping it could provide answers to all the questions in the world, but his mind was spinning, telling him that he already knew the answer to the most important question.
He could see Nicole right there in front of him, how frightened and desperate she had looked as she crossed the road. But it wasn’t because she was leaving him, he realised now, it was because of what she was being dragged towards.
The car.
The red car.
There were two of them again
She was two separate individuals again.
On the outside and on the inside.
★ ★ ★
On the outside she was sitting completely motionless.
There wasn’t much else she could do. Mummy was sitting beside her. Just as Fred had been sitting beside her the first time she saw the red car.
Now Fred was dead.
The first time she had been able to hide, but not this time. Mummy put her arm around her and chatted to the woman who was driving. She carried on registering the world outside the car. It had nothing to do with her. She was no longer a part of it. She could have been, she was on her way, but then they ended up here.
In this car.
So she withdrew.
★ ★ ★
On the inside she was also motionless.
Back in the place that was not a place, or a room. She was back there again and it was still empty.
Empty and silent.
Sebastian had talked to her. His words had made the walls that were not walls begin to weaken. It had begun in the cave. A thin thread of his plea to trust him had found its way into that cold, cramped space and she had grabbed hold of it. She hadn’t regretted that decision.
The feeling of security had spread, slowly but surely.
For a brief moment, now and again, when Sebastian was talking to her, when she was with him, she felt as if she might even be able to feel safe outside the walls.
Perhaps the terrible thing wouldn’t come back if she grew and left the place that was not a place.
Perhaps she might even be able to speak without anything happening.
But that was then.
★ ★ ★
On the outside she sat still and looked out through the car window like any other ten-year-old, the seat belt across her chest and Mummy’s arm around her shoulders, adult voices talking, music on the radio.
On the outside she had no way of protecting the inside.
Then again, she didn’t need to.
★ ★ ★
The red car had sent her hurtling back.
The bangs, the screams, the terror.
Her own and everyone else’s.
★ ★ ★
On the inside she grew smaller and smaller once again, and the walls around her closed in, thicker than ever.
Vanja and Sebastian flew down the stairs. Vanja had just called Torkel to tell him about Nicole’s drawing and their sudden suspicions with regard to Pia.
Torkel’s response didn’t make her feel any better.
He had just finished talking to Adrian Cole at FilboCorp. When he was going through the final report on the case, something connected with Frank’s motive had bothered him – something to do with the purchase of Stefan Andrén’s land. It wasn’t the fact that Frank had bought the land; the financial motive was perfectly clear. It was the timing that didn’t fit. The deal had been done long before the mining company’s plans were made public. Nine months, in fact. And yet Frank had been confident enough to borrow an enormous amount of money. Adrian Cole had told Torkel something which, combined with Vanja’s call just seconds later, made everything fall into place.
According to Cole, the only person who knew about FilboCorp’s plans before the official application was the chair of the local council, Pia Flodin. The same person who had just picked up their only witness. Maybe Frank hadn’t acted alone after all.
Vanja had found a parking space some distance away on Storgatan, and it took them a while to get there, even at a run.
‘Torkel’s going to call the control centre and ask them to provide us with full support,’ she told Sebastian as they got in the car.
‘Good – we’re going to need all the help we can get.’ Sebastian was breathing heavily; he looked stressed.
Vanja started the car. ‘If we assume she’s going straight to Torsby, there are two routes to choose from: the E18 north of Mälaren, or the E4 to the south.’ She looked at Sebastian enquiringly. ‘Any idea which one she was planning to take?’
He shook his head and took out his phone.
‘OK, in that case we’ll just have to take a chance. South is easier from here.’
She switched on the blue light and shot away. ‘Can you call Control and request a helicopter?’
‘Already on it,’ Sebastian replied.
Vanja turned down Styrmansgatan and out onto Strandvägen. It was the middle of the day, so the traffic wasn’t too bad. Unfortunately – it would have been helpful if Pia had got stuck in a jam. The cars ahead pulled over, and soon Vanja was in the tunnel on Norrlandsgatan. Sebastian spoke to Control and gave Vanja’s name and number; he told them about the red Volvo V70, registered keeper either Pia or Erik Flodin. No, he didn’t know the registration number, but it had a blue sticker with the Torsby town logo on one of the side windows at the back.
Va
nja glanced over at him; she was no longer quite so sure that she had done the right thing. It wasn’t her fault that Maria and Nicole were in the Volvo right now, but it was her fault that Sebastian wasn’t there with them.
She felt compelled to say something. ‘Sorry if I messed up, but I did it for your sake as well as theirs.’
He gazed at her as he sat there with the phone to his ear, waiting for a response from Control. At first she thought he was going to bite her head off, but he simply turned and looked out of the window.
‘To be honest I don’t understand why it had anything to do with you.’
She nodded. Didn’t reply. Put her foot down as if speed could undo what was done.
★ ★ ★
Maria was in the back with Nicole. The car was clean and impersonal, nothing on the floor, not a speck of dust in the compartment between the front seats. Nothing like the cars she usually travelled in; they were always littered with old toys from McDonald’s, wrappers and all kinds of rubbish. Pia had switched on the radio, P1; a science programme about the new shipping lanes that were opening up in the Barents Sea due to climate change. Maria wasn’t paying any attention. Nicole was curled up beside her; she hadn’t moved since they left Grev Magnigatan. She had pressed herself as close as possible to her mother, and after a while she had buried her face in the crook of Maria’s arm. As if she wanted to disappear from the surface of the earth. Maria hugged her, hoping to reassure her.
‘It’s all right, sweetheart,’ she whispered. ‘Everything will be fine.’
Nicole didn’t move.
Maria was regretting her actions. It had been stupid to tackle Sebastian while Nicole was around. She should have thought, protected her from the break-up. Kept some things to herself, not made it so dramatic. But she had been angry, not thinking clearly. She felt so betrayed. She had let him into her life, which was why she had reacted like that to his lies and the revelations that followed. It was hardly surprising, but it wasn’t good for Nicole, who had grown even closer to Sebastian. She carried on whispering to her daughter, trying to reach her.
Pia glanced at her enquiringly in the rear-view mirror.
‘Has something happened?’
Maria shook her head. ‘No, she’s just a bit anxious.’ There was no reason to say anything about Sebastian to Pia Flodin; she didn’t need any more people giving her advice or trying to help. She would solve her own problems from now on.
‘But she’s still not talking?’ Pia went on, trying to sound casual but without success. Maria understood. Nicole’s mutism was presumably one of the things that many people would ask her about over and over again in the near future.
‘No, unfortunately,’ she said, meeting Pia’s gaze.
‘I’m sure things will improve as time goes on,’ Pia replied reassuringly, putting her foot down. Maria thought she was driving a little too fast, but she didn’t say anything. Surely they weren’t in that much of a hurry to get there?
Suddenly the memorial service seemed like a bad idea. Nicole needed peace and quiet, particularly now that Maria had torn Sebastian from her side in such a brutal way. The security Nicole had felt with him would be hard to replace, and it definitely wasn’t to be found among a crowd of strangers trying to express their grief in a town square. It could even have a directly negative effect, reminding her of the terrible things that had happened.
It was Maria who needed the memorial service, Maria who wanted to move on. Not Nicole. She wasn’t there yet. Maria had to think of her daughter, not herself. She was ashamed. Everything she had done since she stormed out of Sebastian’s apartment had been about her.
‘I’m not sure if this is such a good idea,’ she said. Once again Pia looked at her in the mirror.
‘Sorry? What’s not a good idea?’
‘The memorial service. I don’t think it will help Nicole. I don’t think she’s ready.’
Pia nodded, sounding as if she understood perfectly.
‘It’s going to be beautiful – peaceful, dignified, nothing intrusive,’ she said warmly. ‘I think you’ll be surprised by the feeling of support and community.’
‘I don’t know. I’m sure it will be lovely, but …’ Maria went on uncertainly.
Pia smiled reassuringly.
‘I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll drive down, and if it doesn’t feel right, then don’t go. I promise I won’t nag, but at least you can make up your mind when you’re on the spot.’
Maria nodded. She might feel better when they were there; she just didn’t know. As on so many other occasions in her life, she wasn’t really in control of events, so she sat quietly and allowed herself to be driven towards Torsby.
Perhaps it was because she wanted to fit in, find a context.
Perhaps it was because she didn’t want to go back to her apartment, resume her everyday life.
Perhaps it was because she felt the memorial service was a good way of making a fresh start. She wasn’t sure.
Her phone rang: Sebastian. She immediately rejected the call.
At least she was in control of her mobile.
★ ★ ★
They were on the Central Bridge, blue lights still flashing.
The traffic was getting worse, and Vanja had to slow down a little in order to give the vehicles ahead time to move out of the way. She turned up her police radio to make sure she didn’t miss anything. A call asking all cars to look out for a red Volvo V70, registration number Sierra Golf Mike 054 with a blue sticker in one of the rear side windows had just gone out. Control had also diverted a traffic-management helicopter from Nacka; it would be over Söder in a few minutes. Sebastian stared at his mobile in frustration.
‘Maria’s not answering. She keeps rejecting my calls.’
Vanja’s expression was sceptical.
‘Do you think it’s a good idea to ring her?’
‘I was going to warn her.’
‘Don’t do that. Do you think Maria would be able to keep up the pretence if you tell her about Pia?’
‘Maybe not,’ he had to admit.
‘We could end up with a situation where Pia becomes desperate, and she’s got Maria and Nicole in the car.’ She tried to calm Sebastian down: ‘We do have one advantage – Pia doesn’t know that we know. We have to use that advantage for as long as possible.’
Sebastian nodded. Vanja was right, of course, but that didn’t make him feel any better.
‘I’m such an idiot. I could see from the way Nicole was behaving that something was wrong. I could see it—’
Vanja interrupted him.
‘You couldn’t possibly have known. None of us could.’
Sebastian didn’t reply, but Vanja could see that her words hadn’t made a scrap of difference. The radio crackled into life again.
‘Car 318 – red Volvo V70, Sierra Golf Mike 054, located south of Hornstull,’ said a loud male voice. Vanja grabbed the microphone.
‘Repeat, please – precise location?’
The response was immediate.
‘Crossing Liljeholmen Bridge. We’re heading in the opposite direction and it’s going to take a while for us to turn around.’
‘OK, turn around but keep your distance. Do not approach,’ Vanja said, then threw the microphone to Sebastian. ‘Try and contact the helicopter. Send it towards the E4, the Liljeholmen access slip.’ Sebastian nodded and picked up the mic.
‘South Mälarstrand or Gullmarsplan and the southern link route?’ Vanja asked, keeping an eye on the road ahead and the traffic behind.
‘No good asking me, I never drive here,’ Sebastian said, still trying to get in touch with the helicopter.
‘I think South Mälarstrand will be the quickest.’ Vanja veered across two lanes at full speed, causing several cars to slam on their brakes. She skilfully manoeuvred them into the tunnel that brought them out by the lake. One lane was closed due to the reconstruction around Slussen, and they were faced with a long queue of vehicles. Vanja pulled out into the l
ane designated for oncoming traffic, shot past the cars waiting for the red light up ahead to turn green, then pulled back in at the last minute. She was an excellent driver, but in spite of the speed, it felt like a long way to Hornstull.
Sebastian managed to speak to the pilot: good news. He had been listening to the radio, and had already reached Liljeholmen.
‘We’ve located the car. It’s in the left-hand lane of the E4 heading south. It’s just passing the exit for Västertorp.’
‘Excellent,’ Sebastian said, glancing at Vanja. ‘Anything else I need to say?’
‘Ask what speed the car is doing.’
Sebastian nodded; a few seconds later he had the answer.
‘About a hundred and five kilometres per hour at the moment.’
‘The limit is ninety there; that gives us a reason to pick her up. Tell the helicopter to stay with her, then call car 318 and ask them to drop back so that she doesn’t spot them.’
Sebastian nodded. ‘OK. And what are we going to do?’
Vanja looked at him, a faint smile playing on her lips.
‘We’re going to give Pia a little surprise.’
She pressed herself closer to her mother.
The car was moving so fast. Just like that ride she had been so scared of last year at the Gröna Lund amusement park. She had been strapped in then too.
Couldn’t stop it or jump out.
The last time she saw the car it had been moving much more slowly.
It had stopped outside the house.
She hadn’t paid much attention to it.
Probably a visitor.
A friend of Auntie Karin’s.
But it wasn’t.
The car had brought screams and death.
The loudest bangs she had ever heard in her whole life.
Louder than thunder. Louder than everything.
They tore bodies apart.
Splashed blood all over the walls.
And now she was sitting in the car that had brought death.
The Silent Girl (Sebastian Bergman 4) Page 38