The Silent Girl (Sebastian Bergman 4)

by Michael Hjorth

  But he didn’t let go. He didn’t let go.

  Not this time. One more kick, and he felt the sun on his face. Heard himself coughing, gasping for air.

  He wanted to shout for help, but he just couldn’t do it. He saw Nicole’s pale, still face above the water. Strands of hair plastered to her face. He fought to keep her there, kicking, holding her up.

  He saw the little boat approaching, with Maria leaning over the gunwale.

  ‘Nicole!’ she screamed.

  He couldn’t go on much longer. He slipped under the water; it was becoming harder and harder to hold her up. The man in the boat reached out his hand, but Sebastian refused to take it. He couldn’t. Couldn’t let go of Nicole. They both dipped beneath the surface again; it was as if they were being dragged down into the depths.

  Then he felt someone by his side. Someone strong. Someone who was lifting him up.

  Vanja.

  ‘I’ve got her,’ she yelled in his ear as she took the child from him. He let her do it. He managed to grab the gunwale with one hand, and watched Vanja swimming on her back with Nicole’s face above the surface, clasped to her chest. He saw them reach the shore.

  Nicole still wasn’t moving, but the paramedics were.

  They immediately started CPR.

  Sebastian let go of the gunwale and swam ashore. His progress was slow, but he didn’t give up. He crawled onto the mud and grass, dragging himself along until he reached Nicole. He took her hand and collapsed.

  They were still working on her. He was shaking with cold.

  Suddenly she coughed, spewing up water. He could barely move or see after all his efforts, but he could hear.

  She was alive.

  ‘You can let go now, Sebastian,’ said the voice that had saved him.

  Vanja.

  ‘I can’t. I can’t let go again,’ he said weakly.

  ‘You have to. They’re taking her in the ambulance now. You have to let go. She’ll be fine.’

  ‘I don’t want to.’

  ‘You have to.’

  Vanja and one of the paramedics pulled his hand away with no difficulty whatsoever; he had no resistance left.

  They put her on a trolley and ran. He lay on his back and looked up at the sun. He was still shivering, but he had won. The water had lost this time. Someone gave him a blanket, someone else raised him up into a sitting position. Vanja was there, helping him to his feet. He wanted to burst into tears, lean against the woman who was his daughter and perhaps his only friend, and be honest.

  But he couldn’t do it.

  ‘There’s an ambulance waiting for you too,’ she said gently.

  He nodded. Saw his wet feet shuffling across the grass.

  He saw Pia in handcuffs, saw Nicole wearing an oxygen mask in one of the ambulances.

  They closed the doors.

  Drove off. And he knew.

  He knew that was the last time he would see her.

  Ever.

  ‘I didn’t know he was intending to shoot them.’

  Pia Flodin took a sip of water, put down her glass and met Torkel and Vanja’s eyes across the table, her expression open and sincere. This was the second time she had repeated those nine words, and Vanja was no more inclined to believe her than the first time. Nor was Torkel, she was sure of it.

  They had taken Pia straight to Police HQ in Kungsholmen. She had been given dry clothes and something to eat; a doctor had examined her and agreed that she was fit to be questioned.

  Then they made a few calls.

  Torkel informed Emilio Torres that they had arrested Pia Flodin, that she had refused legal representation, and that they would send him a copy of the interview transcript. Emilio was happy with that arrangement.

  Out of politeness Vanja had called Erik and told him that they had arrested his wife on suspicion of involvement in the murder of the Carlsten family, and on endangering life with the possibility of the attempted murder of Maria and Nicole Carlsten. As she had expected Erik couldn’t really take in what she was saying; she actually felt sorry for him as she referred him to Emilio Torres and advised him not to answer the phone for a while unless he recognised the number. There would be a lot of media interest when they found out what had happened. The car crash and subsequent rescue had been witnessed by a lot of people, and journalists were very good at putting together information. Vanja felt a pang of conscience as she put down the phone. She had absolutely nothing against Erik, and in spite of the fact that it was much better for him to hear it from her rather than reading it online or hearing it from a stranger, she knew that her call had changed his life, and his daughter’s, for ever.

  Speaking of changing someone’s life, she had thought it over, then called Sebastian to ask if he could observe Pia’s interview. He had seemed unsure, and she had said she would really appreciate it if he could be there. A peace offering. Which had worked.

  They had waited for him in the corridor outside the interview room.

  ‘I thought you were staying at the hospital?’ Torkel had said when Sebastian turned up, walking with a heavy tread.

  ‘Maria didn’t want me there. She wanted to be alone with Nicole. Shall we make a start?’

  Without waiting for a response he opened the door and went into the room with a window that looked like a mirror from the other side, but allowed Sebastian to see everything that went on. He watched as Vanja and Torkel entered and sat down without a word to Pia. Torkel switched on the recorder and gave the date, the reason for the interrogation, and the names of those present, while Vanja put in her earphone so that Sebastian could communicate with her.

  ‘I didn’t know he was intending to shoot them,’ Pia said as soon as Torkel asked her to tell them about the day on which the murders took place. ‘You have to believe me,’ she added in a voice breaking with emotion, despair written all over her face.

  Vanja reminded herself that Pia was a politician. She was used to lying.

  ‘But you drove Frank over there?’ she asked, without giving any indication as to whether she believed Pia or not.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘In your car.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why? Why were you there?’

  Pia subconsciously straightened up, as if she had been asked a question to which she actually knew the answer.

  ‘Torsby needs that mine. It will provide employment, plus an income from taxes which will enable us to invest in health care, education and—’

  ‘Skip the election speech and answer the question,’ Vanja interrupted her.

  Pia gave Vanja a filthy look. As a politician she might be used to interruptions, but she obviously didn’t like it. She decided that talking to Vanja was beneath her dignity, and turned to Torkel instead.

  ‘I asked Frank to come with me to visit the Carlstens so that he could provide a more human angle.’ She leaned forward, her eyes fixed on Torkel. ‘Employment opportunities and income from taxes are just boring politics to most people, but Frank was sick. Dying. He wanted to make sure that his son had a good life after he was gone. Human values, the kind of thing everyone can relate to. I wanted the Carlstens to understand that aspect of the mining development, that it was about helping a fellow human being too.’

  She sat back and gave a little nod, as if she had just given an emotional speech to the nation.

  ‘But that’s not what happened,’ Torkel said, noticeably unmoved.

  ‘No. Frank …’ Pia shrugged, apparently searching for the right words. ‘Frank went … crazy, I assume.’ She picked up the glass.

  ‘I didn’t know he was intending to shoot them,’ she said, then she took a sip of water, put down her glass and met Torkel and Vanja’s eyes across the table, her expression open and sincere.

  ‘Hang on.’ Vanja heard Sebastian’s voice in her ear. ‘If the plan was for Frank to sit crying into a cup of coffee to make the Carlstens feel like heartless bastards, then why did he have a shotgun with him?’

  Vanja was wond
ering the same thing. She nodded to let Sebastian know she’d heard him.

  ‘Frank had a gun with him,’ she said.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  Another shrug.

  ‘He was a gamekeeper. That’s who he was. A man with a gun.’

  ‘Ask her what she thought was going to happen,’ Sebastian said, sure they were on to something.

  ‘Wasn’t it a bit strange to turn up with a shotgun if he was supposed to be eliciting sympathy?’

  ‘It was just a gun,’ Pia replied, as if she didn’t understand the problem. ‘It’s what he used when he was working. I can see that someone in Stockholm would have reacted, but to us it’s no stranger than a carpenter carrying a hammer around.’

  ‘You didn’t think it was remotely odd when he got out of the car with the shotgun?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So the intention wasn’t for him to go in and threaten the family?’

  Pia looked excessively weary; she let out a loud sigh, making it clear that she doubted whether Vanja was of normal intelligence.

  ‘As I said, he was going to tell them why he hoped they would say yes to the mine. The fact that you’re carrying a gun doesn’t necessarily mean you’re planning to shoot someone.’

  She raised her eyebrows at Vanja with an expression that said now-do-you-get-it-how-many-times-do-I-have-to-repeat-myself, and Vanja was suddenly absolutely sure.

  She had known.

  Pia had known from the start exactly what Frank was intending to do.

  Vanja was certain, but there was the small matter of proof.

  ‘Let’s say we believe you. What happened?’

  ‘We rang the bell, Karin opened the door and before I had the chance to explain why we were there, Frank raised the gun and shot her.’

  ‘And what did you do then?’

  ‘I screamed, I think. Grabbed hold of his arm, but he shook me off and went inside.’

  Vanja opened the folder on the table and took out a number of photographs, which she laid out in front of Pia. Sebastian could see they were pictures of the children.

  The children who had been shot.

  Shot dead.

  Vanja glanced up at Pia, who had fallen silent and seemed to be having some difficulty deciding where to look.

  ‘Go on,’ Vanja said encouragingly. ‘What did you do next?’

  ‘I ran back to the car.’

  ‘Did you wait for him?’

  ‘No, I drove off right away. Why are you showing me these?’ Pia made an irritated gesture towards the photographs.

  ‘Then what?’ Vanja gave no sign of having heard Pia’s question.

  ‘I just drove, I was panicking. Everything had gone wrong. I was in shock – I needed time to process what I’d seen … I drove out into the forest, then I stopped and … I just sat there.’

  ‘And you decided not to go to the police,’ Torkel stated.

  ‘I couldn’t. You know who I am, what I do. I couldn’t get involved.’ Vanja was still laying out photographs on the table. ‘Why are you showing me these?’

  ‘You promised money and jobs for the town before the last election campaign,’ Torkel went on, also ignoring her question.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Which the mine was supposed to provide.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And now it’s election time again. Time to deliver.’

  Pia spread her hands wide and took a deep breath in an attempt to control her irritation. Good, Sebastian thought. People who were annoyed were more likely to make mistakes.

  ‘I was trying to sway the Carlstens, I’m not denying that,’ Pia said, forcing herself to speak calmly. ‘That’s why I took Frank with me.’

  ‘And his shotgun,’ Vanja interjected.

  She might as well not have existed as far as Pia was concerned.

  ‘He was going to help me persuade them. I didn’t know he was intending to shoot them.’

  Vanja glanced at Torkel and realised he had noticed the same thing as her: Pia’s defence was beginning to sound more and more like a well-rehearsed story than a spontaneous account of the reality.

  ‘You panicked when you found out there was a witness, and you asked Erik to go and see Frank, get him involved in the investigation in the hope that he would find Nicole first.’ Torkel was making an assertion, not asking a question.

  ‘No.’

  ‘I heard your conversation with Frank on the phone. “You know what I can do,” you said – you told him to think about his son. It didn’t occur to me at the time, but that sounds like a threat. You were reminding him of how vulnerable his son would be if he didn’t do the right thing, make sure you got away with it.’ That wasn’t a question either.

  ‘No. I thought I could help him – you heard me say that too.’

  ‘Yes, after a very long pause.’

  ‘I still said it.’

  ‘Why did you drive off the road?’ Vanja suddenly asked.

  ‘I lost control of the car.’

  ‘Maria said Nicole had recognised Pia from the Carlsten house just before she drove off the road,’ Sebastian said. That was a lie; he knew nothing about what had happened in the red Volvo, but it seemed like a credible scenario.

  ‘According to Maria, it was because Nicole had recognised you from the scene of the murders,’ Vanja repeated.

  ‘That’s not true.’

  Vanja was getting tired of trying to maintain a professional tone.

  ‘Nicole is still alive. Fred and Georg …’ She leaned forward, pointing to the pictures of the dead boys. Pia couldn’t stop herself from looking down at them. ‘Fred and Georg are dead. Frank Hedén might have pulled the trigger, but you’re just as guilty.’

  ‘I didn’t know he was intending to shoot them,’ Pia said yet again, but her tone carried slightly less conviction this time.

  ‘Repeating something doesn’t make it any more true,’ Vanja said.

  Pia met her gaze; the younger woman didn’t waver, not even a millimetre. In the end Pia was forced to look away, but she refused to admit her defeat; instead she went for a calculated conclusion.

  ‘I want a lawyer.’

  ‘You’re going to need one.’

  May was showing itself off at its absolute best.

  The sun was shining from a clear blue sky on the hotel with its beautiful extensive lawns, leading down to the water where the wedding was to take place. Then there would be a break of a few hours before the reception, which was to be held in one of the largest rooms. The guests had been invited to stay over and meet for brunch the following morning to review the day’s experiences before setting off home in various directions.

  Two days of celebration in the name of love, as it said on the invitations.

  Sebastian had settled into his room, then strolled outside; the wedding would start in less than fifteen minutes. He was wearing a suit and tie, and as soon as he stepped out into the sunshine he knew how much he was going to sweat during the ceremony. He looked around to see if he could spot anyone he knew; Torkel and Ursula were standing a short distance away, deep in conversation, and didn’t notice him. He wouldn’t be able to avoid them all day, but he wasn’t in any great hurry to talk to them. Particularly Ursula; to be honest, he was a little nervous about meeting her again.

  The young police officer who had joined them on the case up in Jämtland, Jennifer something-or-other, was chatting with several people he didn’t know. That was no good either. He carried on looking around.

  Then he saw her, and was slightly taken aback.

  Vanja, in high-heeled shoes and a yellow dress that ended just below the knee. He had never seen her in anything other than trousers and a shirt or blouse or whatever it was called when a woman wore it. Unfortunately. She should wear a dress more often, he thought. It gave her a lightness, a girlishness that was enormously attractive, a youthfulness that reflected her age.

  He went over and gave her a hug. ‘You look lovely,’ he said.
>
  ‘Don’t get any ideas,’ she replied with a smile, but there was a hint of seriousness in her tone. Sebastian returned the smile and held up his hands in a defensive gesture.

  ‘I said you looked lovely, that’s all. That dress really suits you.’

  ‘And I just said I think you’re the type who goes to a wedding to see what’s on offer.’

  ‘OK, in that case we’re both right.’

  Brian and Wilma, the evening’s toastmasters, rang a bell and asked everyone to take their places. Vanja slipped her arm through Sebastian’s and they moved towards the folding chairs which had been arranged in rows on either side of a temporary aisle covered in fine white sand and strewn with rose petals, ending in a pergola covered in white lilies and red roses.

  For a while Vanja had been worried that her involvement in what happened with Maria and Nicole would create a permanent distance between her and Sebastian; but their pursuit of Pia, and Sebastian’s success in rescuing Nicole from the waters of Lake Mälaren, seemed to have given him closure in some way, and to Vanja’s surprise their relationship was now better than it had been for a long time. It was almost as if he didn’t want to lose her too.

  Just as they sat down the music began to play from hidden speakers and the bridal couple appeared. Billy, in a slim-fitting grey tailcoat with a green waistcoat and tie, looked almost shy as he made his way up the aisle at Maya’s side, smiling at their guests. His bride was radiant in a white strapless dress that hugged the curves of her body to her hips, then flared out in a bell-shaped skirt with sparkling silk-embroidered detail down one side.

  ‘It’s Vera Wang,’ Vanja whispered to Sebastian as the couple walked past. Sebastian nodded. He had no idea who Vera Wang was or what she did, but presumably it was something to do with the dress. He was just wondering how come Vanja knew about wedding-dress designers when the female celebrant began to speak. Sebastian sat back and thanked his lucky stars that it wasn’t a church wedding. The woman seemed to know Billy and Maya well, and the ceremony was warm, personal, and nice and short.