A Small Indiscretion

by Denise Rudberg

  Torsten grumbled. He was too upset to finish his sandwich.

  “She said she’ll send money for a jacket next week. Then she wondered if we could go to London one weekend in the fall. But I don’t understand what she’s planning. She’s acting like a teenage girl from one of my classes. Crazy.”

  “Well, I think it was good you tried to talk things out. Your mother was probably upset about how the visit turned out, too. I’m sure you’ll have a better relationship now.”

  “But what does she see in that guy? Not that you two always got along, but he’s a piece of work.”

  Torsten was curious to know what Noah thought about his parents’ relationship, but he knew he could never ask. He tried his best to be diplomatic.

  “He’s probably OK. I think your mother needed someone to look up to, and I wasn’t that person.”

  “But he’s nasty.”

  “Maybe he’s just jealous of your relationship with your mother. That’s not unusual.”

  Noah shrugged. “That’s stupid to be jealous of a kid.”

  Torsten couldn’t help smiling. And soon he was able to continue eating his sandwich. Noah drank the last of his soda in one gulp and let out a burp.

  “Well, what do you say?” Torsten said. “Ready to go? If you take the suitcases, I’ll take the food and sleeping bags. I hope you brought enough warm clothes. I heard it’s going to frost tonight.”

  CHAPTER 87

  On Monday morning, Marianne walked into her office. She saw immediately that her monitor had been moved again. She had almost begun to look forward to this cat-and-mouse game. Someone was trying to see what she was doing—and sooner or later, that person would be discovered.

  Everyone makes mistakes.

  Alexandra Baranski stuck her head into the doorway and whistled.

  “Wow! You look better each time you come in! Where’d you buy that dress?”

  Marianne waved in greeting and stood up straighter. “My daughter is a seamstress. She has a studio where she sells her designs. She gave me this dress as a name-day present. I mean, I don’t like to admit it, but Dagmar is my middle name.”

  They laughed. St. Dagmar’s Day had been September twenty-seventh.

  “Well, you look radiant. And, congratulations on those cases last week. Torsten Ehn must worship the ground you walk on.”

  “He’s the one who did the legwork that led to the right clue. I would never have seen the connection, but he was absolutely sure of it. It’s always good to have a second pair of eyes. Sometimes it’s hard to see the forest for the trees in one’s own reports.”

  Alexandra looked at her watch. “Come on, we have to hurry. Olle wants us all in the press room. The new Stockholm police chief is going to be introduced today. It will look good if we all show up.”

  They hurried toward the elevators. Alexandra lowered her voice.

  “The Root is back. Have you seen her yet?”

  “I ran into her this morning,” Marianne said. “She looked much better.”

  “I hear she’s started a substance-abuse program.”

  “She has?”

  “It was one of the conditions for returning to her job.”

  “Well, we all have our crosses to bear.”

  If Alexandra suspected that Marianne knew more than she was willing to reveal, she didn’t show it.

  The press room was crowded with journalists. Lillemor Rootander stood by the podium next to Olle. She nodded toward Marianne, who took her place by the wall, next to Alexandra. On the other side of Olle was a tall woman with ash-blonde hair in a page cut. She wore a police uniform and was staring intently at a sheet of paper in her hand. Marianne realized she was the person they’d all come to see. The woman was just under fifty. Marianne couldn’t decide whether she was attractive. But then, police uniforms didn’t make any woman look good. A bit of makeup would have done wonders, she thought.

  The press secretary asked for everyone’s attention as he came to the microphone.

  “Welcome. I will not make a long speech today, but I will give the microphone to our new city police chief. Give a warm welcome to Irene Sundberg.”

  Marianne almost choked. She looked down at the floor and forced herself to take a few deep breaths. When she raised her head again, she looked to one side and caught Lillemor Rootander’s gaze. Lillemor made a discreet nod toward Irene, and she and Marianne smiled at each other in complete understanding.

  Yes, Irene Sundberg was that Irene.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Writing this book was a prodigious undertaking. I’d like to thank the many people who offered their invaluable help.

  Pappa and Maggan, my wonderful parents.

  Anne-Marie Bergström. You took the time to help me, and I enjoyed your great expertise.

  Carola Faulkner and Alexandra Montgomery. You read the manuscript with great energy and engagement. You’re such beautiful friends.

  Louise and Jonas Frisén. I asked so many questions of you, and—from your great knowledge—you gave me great answers.

  Theresa Westerström, the best.

  Ulla and Jan Strömberg, the best parents-in-law a person could wish for. Without you, no books.

  Katarina Wennstam, because you’re just so darned wonderful!

  Mari Jungstedt for your high spirits and your laughter.

  Camilla Läckeberg. You’re the toughest one of all, and you always yelled at me when I wanted to quit. Thanks for not giving up.

  Martina Haag, the Big Star!

  Maria Sveland and Mian Lodalen. You both are inspiring.

  Johanna Bergenstråhle and Börje Hansson. You believed in this book from its inception, and you were wonderful sounding boards.

  Andreas Eriksson. I couldn’t have done it without you. You are the most professional of all, as well as being a good friend.

  Camilla Hildebrand, because you’re the finest friend a person can have. And you have the most attractive legs.

  Sara Nyström, because you are the Pride of Piteå.

  Björn Häggelin. You are so inspiring and so much fun. As well as the best dressed!

  Hannah Widell. You were right. You promised me it would all work out in the end.

  Micke Spreitz, such a good friend all these years. You know so much about all kinds of things.

  Katti Kjellvertz, one of the most amusing people I know.

  Augustin Erba. Because you contributed your name, the best one of all, and because I love talking with you.

  Calle Frisell, a very warm person who can answer the most difficult questions in areas I find hard to understand.

  Philip Segenäs, a rock and a wonderful cover model for my children’s books.

  Daniel Mollberg, such a good friend.

  Claes de Faire, always so energetic and always in the know.

  Harry Faulkner, the most stylish man in all of Östermalm.

  Fifi Stehag. Because you are so kind and generous.

  Gunnar Holmgren. The best lunch companion, and so much fun.

  Cecilia Hagen, so fast answering text messages, with such exciting things to talk about.

  Kajsa Herngren, a tough negotiator with social skills who knows how things work.

  Liliana Tovar and Anna Höglund, two great breakfast companions.

  Lena Patriksson, because you knew what was needed.

  Pernilla Alm, because you had the endurance to read.

  Pontus Frithiof, the best pub owner in Sweden. You make Stockholm a much better city.

  Sven and Cati Hagströmer, such great inspirations, and because Cati knows the deal when it comes to Sudoku.

  Lisa Lindberg. My good editor, who handled this text in the best possible way.

  Susanna Romanus. My wonderful publisher, who has been both patient and demanding—and who trusted me to deliver. You belie
ved in this book and contributed to it with your energy. You understand.

  Calle and Loppsan. Because I was allowed to be your mother.

  Johan Strömberg. Because you are my husband and you still love me. You make me laugh every single day.

  Two people deserve special thanks: Anders Åhlén and Ulf Jonsson at the National Police. You took time to assist me in the best way possible. Your help has been invaluable, and I am eternally grateful!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  © 2013 Natanael Johansson

  Denise Rudberg is one of Sweden’s most successful novelists—crowned by readers as the Chick-Lit Queen of Sweden—and in 2009 she began incorporating her signature sexy, energetic style into mysteries featuring the intrigues of Sweden’s upper classes, naming the subgenre Elegant Crime. A Small Indiscretion is her eleventh novel, and her first to be translated into English.

  ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR

  Laura A. Wideburg fell in love with the Swedish language as a high school exchange student in Vrigstad, Småland. She returned to Sweden to study linguistics at the University of Stockholm. She received a PhD in medieval literature and historical linguistics from the University of Washington.

  Laura began to translate Swedish thrillers and crime novels in 2005 and has translated Inger Frimansson, Lars Kepler, and Helene Tursten. Her translation of Inger Frimansson’s Good Night, My Darling won ForeWord Reviews magazine’s Best Translated Novel in 2007. This is her first translation of a Denise Rudberg book.

  She is also the Lead Teacher at the Swedish Cultural Center and has written two books in use there: Swedish—The Basics and Swedish—Beyond the Basics.

  Laura lives in Seattle with her husband, two children, and two cats.