A Small Indiscretion

by Denise Rudberg

  They began to eat the egg sandwiches, and Torsten glanced at his watch. He’d eaten breakfast just two hours ago, but it felt like an eternity had passed. He packed the cheese sandwiches for lunch and figured he’d stop at the bakery for some cardamom buns to round out the meal.

  “Valhalla Bakery is around the corner from my apartment.”

  “Forgive my ignorance, but where exactly is your apartment?”

  “Wittstocksgatan 17. It’s near where it loops around Gustaf Adolf Park.”

  “Oh, my mother worked for a family on Wittstocksgatan when I was a boy. What a neighborhood. Does your balcony face the park?” Torsten asked.

  Augustin nodded. “Yes, indeed. Does your place have a balcony?”

  “My son and I were sold on our balcony when we bought our apartment. We’re just like everyone else. I read in the newspaper most people in the center of the city want balconies. We’re not unique, and I never said I wasn’t an average guy. Do you have a big place?”

  “Big enough for my purposes. I live by myself.”

  “Two-room apartment?”

  Embarrassed, Augustin said, “A three-room.”

  “How many square feet?”

  “About nine hundred.”

  “Jesus, that’s enormous,” Torsten exclaimed. “How did you find it?”

  “I bought it with the money I inherited from my mother. She came from a wealthy Brazilian family,” Augustin explained.

  “I see. Well, I don’t have those kinds of relatives. All I inherited from my mother was her Gustavsberg china, and my wife took that when she left me.”

  They laughed and Torsten drank the last of his coffee, pulling out a napkin and cleaning his cup before returning it to his backpack.

  Augustin pointed to the boat heading toward them. “That should be it, right?”

  The taxi boat docked and tied up, and they hopped on board. Augustin started to shiver and he buttoned his coat. Torsten realized Augustin’s elegant light-wool suit was much too thin for being out on the water, especially as the wind picked up. His own fleece jacket kept him quite warm, and he was glad he’d worn a pair of outdoor pants.

  The boat trip took thirty minutes. Torsten wondered if Right Now escorted their guests. Maybe they had their own boat? He leaned toward Augustin, who was shivering next to the heater.

  “Do you think Isa Turin is capable of murder?”

  Augustin looked at him, surprised, then wrinkled his brow thoughtfully. “It depends. I think she could if her children were in danger.”

  “Let’s say Christopher wanted sole custody after his sporadic attempts at being a father. Would she do it to regain the children?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Have we checked? Did he apply for sole custody?”

  Augustin shook his head. “I could call someone now.”

  Torsten peered into space for a moment, then he slowly shook his head. “No, let’s wait. I know the person we should call, but it looks like we don’t have a signal here.”

  Augustin shot him a serious expression. “It’s too bad things have come to this.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “All the leaks. No one can trust anyone. The system will fall apart if this continues.”

  “Yes, it’s bad right now,” Torsten agreed. “I’ve always been careful, even if it seemed like overkill sometimes. I just hope we can stop the leaks, or soon we’ll be in pretty bad shape.”

  They were quiet as they got ready to jump onto the dock. The taxi boat was supposed to pick them up three hours later, and Torsten hoped that would give them enough time to finish their inquiry. The island seemed empty on this early autumn morning. They’d told Right Now they were coming, and they’d expected someone to meet them, but there wasn’t a single soul. Torsten took out his cell phone and placed a call to the station.

  “I’d like to speak to Marianne Jidhoff, please.”

  Augustin looked at him with curiosity while adjusting his scarf.

  Torsten broke out in a wide grin.

  “Hi, there! Torsten Ehn here! Thanks for the company yesterday!”

  He laughed, then continued, “Sorry for bothering you. Something I’d like you to check for me. Could you check on the custody arrangements in the…yes! That’s it. Thanks so much, Marianne!”

  He ended the call and smiled. Augustin gave him an inquisitive look.

  “Marianne Jidhoff works for Olle. I report directly to her, by the way. I’m not exactly sure if Olle will rearrange our team in the long run, but we’ll see.”

  “I don’t believe I’ve met her,” Augustin said.

  “She used to work here, but she’s been on leave for a while. She’s extremely attractive—a bella donna for sure!”

  Augustin sighed. “Bella donna? Someone must update you on today’s slang. Especially for women. Still, now that you mention it, I do remember Olle mentioning her name. He wanted her to come back to work instead of retiring, I believe?”

  “That’s right. She is a recent widow. I can’t even imagine going into retirement at just fifty plus. It’d be like giving oneself an early death.”

  CHAPTER 53

  Lotta came to pick up the girls. They were alarmed, but Paula hoped they didn’t yet grasp the gravity of the situation. Lotta had told her to wait inside the house while she drove the girls to school. She returned at the same time as the police.

  The officers were a strong-looking young blonde woman and an older man with a mustache. Both appeared disinterested. The young officer took extensive notes. She’d taken a careful look at the alarm box and the remote control, picked up the cigarette stubs with a pair of tweezers, and put them in a plastic bag taken from a black case.

  “I really ought to have an investigator come by, but no one is available. You understand that breaking and entering is not a high priority for us.”

  “Excuse me? Isn’t this more than just breaking and entering? Someone came in here when we were sleeping!”

  “Sorry. You weren’t harmed, so it falls under breaking and entering. Probably it was a homeless person wanting a warm place to sleep for the night, or some kid trying to make a little trouble.”

  “Entering a house protected by an alarm in the middle of the night? And so cool about it he smoked six cigarettes while he was here?” Lotta burst out laughing, and the female officer nodded in agreement.

  “It’s strange, all right, but I’ve seen stranger things that later had a natural explanation. Your husband is away on business, you say? Where is he?”

  “London.”

  “We’ll take a look at these cigarette butts, and we’ll get back to you. But I doubt we’ll find much. At any rate, if I were you, I would stay somewhere else for the next few days.”

  “Why? Do you think something will happen to me? Can’t you protect me?”

  “You might feel more secure not being here alone. Maybe you can borrow somebody’s dog?”

  Paula started chewing on a fingernail. She stared into space and shook her head before saying absently, “My kids are allergic.”

  The female officer shrugged and gave Paula a sympathetic look. Her male colleague seemed eager to get going.

  “That’s all I can suggest right now. If it happens again, call us.”

  “You’ve truly helped me feel safe and secure,” Paula replied sarcastically.

  The police car drove off.

  Lotta hugged her. “Don’t worry. We’ll get through this. As long as Jens is gone, you and the girls can stay with us. We’ll make it fun, like a pajama party. The children will love it.”

  Paula smiled gratefully at her friend. “Thanks, you’re a sweetheart. Right now, all I want to do is sell this house and move far away from here.”

  “I know what you mean. Let’s go to Café Gateau. I’m starving. We deserve o
ur cinnamon buns, don’t you think?”

  As she reached for her purse and cell phone, Paula said, “Yes—and today I think I’ll even have two.”

  CHAPTER 54

  Torsten felt reenergized. He walked so swiftly that Augustin, tall as he was, had to jog to keep up. Augustin was amused. They headed toward a large building in the classic archipelago style: it had a wraparound veranda and looked a great deal like a house made of gingerbread. The house was painted red with white trim, and it appeared to be well cared for. Torsten noted a large cupola on the roof, somewhat hidden by the chimney. Two smaller buildings on either side seemed fairly new, but they’d been built in the same style. The building had two porches lined with rubber boots of various colors and sizes. Torsten assumed they were for the guests’ use. The entire picture was one of pleasure and welcome. It was probably time soon for a new course to begin. Nobody would have left all those boots in this weather to deteriorate. He saw a quick movement behind one of the curtains and whispered to Augustin: “Don’t look now, but someone is watching us.”

  Augustin didn’t shift his gaze. He replied so softly that Torsten could hardly hear him. “I saw that, too. Silly question, but do you have your gun?”

  Torsten had to laugh. “Yeah, I’m not that stupid!”

  Augustin smiled. “Just checking.”

  “I agree, it feels isolated out here. Hey, look, someone wants to talk to us after all.”

  A man of about sixty was walking toward them. He had dark-gray hair combed back into a ponytail. He wore black linen trousers and a thick, beige, knitted sweater. During his youth, he must have been extremely attractive. Even now he was still an elegant man. He greeted them, holding out his right hand.

  Torsten thought he looked like a stereotypical cult leader, but he hoped to be proven wrong. Whenever his prejudices were confirmed, it never ended well.

  “Hello, I’m Torsten Ehn, an investigator from the National Police. This is my colleague, Augustin Madrid.”

  “I’m Ushtanga Erik Bergström.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

  The man sighed, smiling. “Ushtanga. It’s my Sanskrit name.”

  “I get it. It’s like my middle name, which I never tell anyone. It could be used against me.”

  Torsten laughed at his own joke, but Ushtanga Erik barely smiled. He gestured toward the main building.

  “We can talk inside without being disturbed. We have a course of study beginning in about three hours, and some of the participants will arrive soon.”

  “How many people are taking your course?”

  Ushtanga Erik replied without looking back. “It depends on the subject and level of the course. We don’t offer one unless we have at least ten participants.”

  Torsten made a quick mental calculation and decided that Ushtanga Erik had no trouble financing his lifestyle. They were shown into an austere white entrance hall and invited to hang up their coats. Torsten set his backpack on the floor as he hung up his fleece jacket, but then he picked it up and brought it inside with him. He had no idea what kind of people he was dealing with here. He’d seen seemingly simple situations end with listening devices or bombs being set off.

  They walked through a large auditorium and were seated in large armchairs next to a crackling fireplace.

  Torsten hadn’t noticed any other color in the building except white, and he asked:

  “Did you paint every single area in this building white?”

  The man looked like he was struggling with sarcasm, but then he stopped himself. “Yes, we think white makes a room more harmonic. What colors are in your home?”

  “Mine? Sand beige, I think it’s called. Almost white. But do you see this place as your home or your workplace?”

  The man gave him an exasperated look, and Torsten returned it as innocently as possible.

  “My home is wherever my soul is. Material circumstances are unimportant. We don’t focus on the material surface here.”

  “So, the color white is just a material surface? It has no significance?”

  Ushtanga Erik’s eyes darkened.

  Pleased to have made his point, Torsten calmly continued: “According to the tax authorities, you are divorced and have two children. Is that correct?”

  Ushtanga Erik nodded.

  “Is it also correct that you own this place with a woman named Christina Filipsson?”

  “Christina now calls herself Tchinti.”

  Torsten couldn’t stop a wide grin from forming, but he didn’t dare say anything until he had himself under control. “I see. According to the tax authorities, she is still legally Christina Filipsson. The question remains. Are you two partners in this business?”

  The man’s gray ponytail wagged as he nodded yes and shifted in his armchair.

  “Can we meet with her?”

  “She’s preparing for her course. She needs time to meditate and enter the right mental state.”

  “I understand, but we really don’t need more than a few minutes of her time. We’ve traveled a good way to come see you both.”

  The man realized he wouldn’t win this round, either, so he said, “I’ll ask her to come down. But can we wait until she finishes her meditation?”

  “That’s fine.”

  “How did the two of you decide to start Right Now?” Augustin asked.

  Ushtanga Erik relaxed noticeably. He smiled at them.

  “Fifteen years ago, I was on the Estonia ferry, part of a kickoff celebration with my advertising firm. Most of my team had already gone to bed, but I had difficulty sleeping. I was living a demanding lifestyle filled with stress. I decided to have one last drink in the bar before going to bed. As I neared the bar, there was a tremendous bang.”

  He took a deep breath. Torsten suspected that this dramatic pause was well rehearsed. This could hardly be the first time Ushtanga Erik had told this story. Torsten was curious to hear how it played out.

  “The furniture began to move around, and I had to avoid the chairs flying through the room. A man was pinned behind a refrigerator. The girl at the bar and I gave each other a quick glance and realized the situation was bad. When everything turned over, we ran for the stairs. People were coming out of their cabins, and we had to pull ourselves up the steps. Near the deck, a fat lady hung on to the stairs in front of us. She screamed that she couldn’t hold on any longer. I threw myself to the side and held myself as close to the wall as I could, pressing the girl from the bar against the wall, too. The woman fell all the way down and took a number of people with her.

  “Once we reached the deck, the ferry shifted again, and we could see the cabin windows sinking beneath our feet. The ferry sank even more quickly, and we did our best to keep climbing up. Finally, we saw that we were out of time and a second later, a wave swept over us. The only thing I was able to think was that I would lose the nice new watch I’d just bought. When I came to, I was hanging over a lifeboat and a man was struggling to pull me on board.”

  Ushtanga Erik paused and looked at them in a state of contemplation. Torsten was impressed. He heard Augustin’s voice.

  “What happened to the girl from the bar?”

  Erik said, “Miraculously enough, she landed in the same lifeboat as I did. We both made it. We sat with our arms around each other to keep warm. It was freezing with the storm. We promised we would do something to make the world a better place if we survived.”

  “So, Christina was the young woman from the bar?”

  Ushtanga Erik nodded, folded his hands in his lap, and blinked.

  Torsten said, “Very impressive. How lucky you two were. I can understand how your life was changed and that you wanted to do something important.”

  “Of course. I was already in the middle of a divorce before the Estonia sank. I sold the advertising firm afterward and bought this island w
ith the money. We still hadn’t decided what to do, but after we took a long trip to India, our idea was born.”

  “And your idea was?”

  “To help people live in the moment with mindfulness, as it’s called. In our modern consumerist world, it is a way of life we have difficulty practicing. We want people to break free of their negative ways and dare to follow their inner voices.”

  The unctuousness in the man’s voice made Torsten so angry that he felt an urge to punch Ushtanga Erik in the face. He knew hypocrisy when he heard it. Torsten’s voice shook as he asked, “And you believe people are generally capable of changing?”

  Ushtanga Erik closed his eyes for a long time. Then he replied, “No, unfortunately not. Many people are used to running in their little hamster wheels, unaware of their basic needs. Only when their bodies can no longer hold on, when they crash into a wall, do they realize they are burned out and need to change.”

  “And what exactly do you do here?”

  “I can’t go into that, out of respect for our companion souls.”

  “Companion souls?”

  “That’s what we call the people who learn from our courses. Now, perhaps, you can tell me why you are here?”

  “You don’t know? I thought I was clear when I called earlier.”

  Ushtanga Erik was obviously surprised. “No, nobody told me why you were coming.”

  “We’re here because one of the participants in your course has died. In fact, he was murdered.”

  Ushtanga Erik’s mouth dropped. Then he took a deep breath.

  Torsten continued. “Christopher Turin. From what I understand, he’s been taking your courses for years.”

  “Yes, absolutely, he was a devout participant.”

  Torsten noticed the switch from “companion soul” to “participant.” Ushtanga Erik didn’t seem to notice his slip.

  “What happened? How did he die?”

  “He was hit by a moving car.”

  “But murder? It wasn’t an accident?”

  “No, in this case, it was deliberate.”