My rain-soaked shirt was sticking to my skin. The cold was corrosive, a long way from how you usually think of summer rain. I could feel myself shaking. Not just from the cold, but also from shock and rage.
‘What about Bobby, then?’ I said.
‘Rebecca panicked. If Jenny was dead, Bobby had to die as well.’
‘Why?’
‘You can see why! If Bobby had lived, he’d have been able to tell the police where he and Jenny had been going that night. Who they were going to meet. How long do you think it would have taken the police to figure out who had known Jenny was going to be out at that time of night?’
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat.
‘So you decided to pin the blame on me?’
‘It was easy to prove that you’d been in contact with them both.’
‘And the dent in the bonnet of the Porsche?’
‘Not hard to make.’
‘You went to the garage yourself after the incident with the orange. Why?’
‘I wanted to check if the car had the alibi you were claiming for it. And I wanted to get a second opinion about that dent.’
‘You were worried that the imprint left by your backside wouldn’t be enough for Forensics to say the car had been involved in two murders?’
Didrik didn’t answer.
I started to walk around the room, driven by demons I was wondering if I was ever going to be rid of.
‘You can’t begin to imagine what our lives are like,’ Didrik said. ‘Sebbe died last autumn. And we were left out here in the Danish countryside, so alone. I can’t find the words to describe how terrible it was, what wrecks we both were. Those neighbours you met when you arrived – they’re pretty much the only people we socialise with here. Them and two or three others.’
He sat down heavily on one of the armchairs with the phone in his hand.
‘So you raised the subject of Mio’s future when you called to tell Lucifer about me?’
‘Yes. It was Lucifer’s idea. He said he assumed we were already very attached to Mio. Like I’ve said several times now: we get to keep him if we can put a stop to you looking and get you out of the way.’
‘So you don’t think I’ll talk if you put me in prison?’
Didrik swallowed hard.
‘Not if you know it would cost Belle her life.’
When he saw my reaction he quickly added: ‘Lucifer’s words, not mine.’
I took several deep breaths.
‘You do understand he’s going to blow us both out, Didrik? You understand that the instant I’m behind bars, he’ll come and get Mio? And you’ll never be able to say a word. You kidnapped a child and gave him your own deceased child’s identity. If you need a hand to work out how many laws you’ve broken, I’d be happy to help you count.’
Didrik sat motionless in the armchair. For a while it looked as if he was going to fall asleep. The phone was in his hand. He seriously believed he had a deal with Lucifer. Was that the sort of damage you suffered when you lost a child? Were you left believing in stories and fairytales?
‘How else do we solve this, Martin?’ Didrik said. ‘How do we both manage to escape from this nightmare?’
39
The rain drummed against the window. I stood in the middle of the floor, as speechless as if carved from stone. Didrik was talking about escape, when, just moments before, he had told me that his wife had run down and killed two people who wanted nothing more than to put things right.
‘Who murdered Elias and Fredrik?’ I said. ‘Was that Rebecca as well?’
Didrik put his phone down.
‘That’s something you don’t need to know,’ he said. ‘Whether it was me or Rebecca, I mean. That stays between the two of us.’
So the wavering husband was now retreating, worried he’d already said too much.
‘Elias called the police to get protection,’ I said hoarsely.
‘In a way you could say that he got it,’ Didrik said with a grimace. ‘Staffan told me he’d been in touch. Elias had evidently got it into his head that he was being followed, got paranoid after Bobby died. Completely unnecessary.’
Staffan, the useless fucking pile of shite.
‘Yes, so unnecessary,’ I said. ‘And such a nuisance for Rakel to be left with a dead body in her living room.’
Didrik looked astonished.
‘Was that you?’
It was my turn to say nothing.
Didrik almost looked relieved.
‘We assumed it was a run-of-the-mill burglar who’d broken into the house, seen . . . well, you know, and ran off in panic. Nice work, Benner.’
There’s a limit to how much garbage you can bear to listen to at any one time. I had definitely reached mine. I couldn’t summon up the energy to ask why Elias had been lying in Rakel’s living room. Waiting for onward transportation to my car, perhaps, or something else altogether. Either way, he hadn’t stayed there long.
‘And Fredrik?’ I said.
‘He got in touch and asked a load of awkward questions,’ Didrik said. ‘Not particularly discreetly, sadly.’
My entire body felt like it was in uproar. You didn’t act like this. Not under any fucking circumstances. The awful thing was that it wasn’t Lucifer who had kicked Didrik, the murder-machine, into action. He had done that himself, and then come up with the idea of pinning the blame for it all on me. I still didn’t understand why Lucifer thought it was such a brilliant plan. I still didn’t understand why he thought my sacrifice was worth so much.
‘How did you manage to silence all the leaks from Police Headquarters?’ I said. ‘There’s hardly been anything in the papers.’
Didrik avoided my gaze.
‘I suppose people listen to me,’ he said, as if that was a good enough answer.
‘Speaking of listening,’ I said. ‘Are you monitoring my phones?’
‘We were until Belle’s grandparents were murdered. Then the prosecutor objected. Until there was more evidence. Then we got permission again. I don’t know how many phones we’re monitoring at the moment.’
‘And surveillance?’
Didrik smiled wryly.
‘Sometimes. You’re a bloody hard man to keep track of, you know.’
I thought about the people who had died. Then about those who had survived. Madeleine. And Nadja. It said something that the only witness to Mio’s abduction was still alive. Even though Rakel had seen her. Didrik didn’t have the complete picture. And Rakel wasn’t one hundred per cent bad. She probably hadn’t even told Didrik that Nadja had seen Mio being taken, out of fear for what it might lead to.
Didrik’s the one doing all the killing, I thought. Rakel is just going along with it.
I didn’t know what to say, so I kept quiet. We had to put a stop to this madness. We had to get rid of the architect of this nightmare: Lucifer. If the price for my own freedom was helping Didrik and Rebecca, then so be it. If we could get rid of the threat from Lucifer – however the hell that was going to happen – the rest could be sorted out.
And I said as much to Didrik.
‘Who is he?’ I said. ‘You’ve met him. What’s his name?’
‘No fucking idea.’
‘Stop it. You must have . . .’
‘Yes, you’d think so, but I don’t actually know. But I do know two things, and they’re enough to make me doubt your idea of rendering him harmless.’
I sat down on one of the kitchen chairs and waited.
‘Firstly, he has a network that’s so comprehensive and close-knit that you’d never get near him. Never.’
How many times had I heard that when I was in Texas with Lucy? A hundred or more? I didn’t care.
‘Bollocks,’ I said. ‘Everyone can be reached. What’s the other thing you think you know?’
The look in Didrik’s eyes grew sharper.
‘That he hates you.’
‘Has he said that?’
‘Yes. And I know you lied. When you
said you’d never killed anyone.’
The words were so harsh and implacable. Someone else who knew about my secret. Someone else who had learned of it from Lucifer. It was indescribably unsettling.
I asked the question to which I had to have an answer.
‘Is that why he hates me?’
Didrik seemed to hesitate, and I could hardly breathe. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘At least that’s how I understood it.’
It was the confirmation I had been looking for. Confirmation that Lucifer and I had some sort of unresolved issue dating back to the time I shot an unarmed man and then buried him out in the desert.
Didrik watched me with ill-concealed satisfaction. ‘Look at that. I honestly thought he was lying, but now I can see he wasn’t.’
I ignored him. I was frightened and angry, stressed and tormented. What the hell was I going to do?
‘Give me three days,’ I said.
‘To do what?’
‘To go to the States and put a stop to this. Once and for all.’
‘Not a chance.’
‘Why not?’
‘If Lucifer finds out you’ve been here without me telling him, my family are dead. It’s impossible.’
‘And how would he find out?’ I said.
Didrik lowered his gaze.
‘It feels like he’s everywhere.’
‘Rubbish. You know he isn’t.’
Silence spread through the room.
‘Three days,’ I said. ‘Three fucking days, that’s all. Make sure my passport hasn’t been blocked. I need to be able to travel without getting caught.’
Didrik thought for a long while.
‘Three days,’ he said. ‘The countdown starts now.’
A glimpse of the Didrik I used to know. Factual and nuanced. So much that had been lost.
I stood up and walked over to him. Then I slowly held out my hand.
‘I want us to agree on one thing,’ I said. ‘If I manage to sort out Lucifer and you get to keep Mio, you’ll make sure that the charges against me are dropped.’
Didrik got to his feet and took my hand.
‘If you see to it that Lucifer disappears, I’ll take care of the rest.’
40
My flight left that evening. I told Lucy I needed to stay in Denmark for a few more days.
‘What have you found?’ she said.
‘Nothing, so far,’ I said.
‘But you went to see Didrik?’
‘Yes.’
‘And?’
‘The house was empty, baby. So I’m going to stay and wait for them for a bit.’
‘You were supposed to be coming back to Sweden again. Tomorrow.’
The rules of the game had changed. The truth was now a luxury I couldn’t afford. I would tell Lucy everything afterwards. And nothing beforehand. Because I didn’t want any debate. But mostly because I wanted to protect her.
‘I’ll be back. Just a bit later than I said.’
‘Where are you now?’
I was sitting in the car outside Kastrup Airport.
‘In my hotel room.’
‘Okay.’
We fell silent. That wasn’t a good sign. Lucy is the only person I’ve ever met whom I always have something to say to.
‘I’ll be in touch,’ I said.
‘Don’t you want to talk to Belle?’
My heart ached. Of course I did. But could I bear to?
‘Sure.’
Lucy called Belle, who came to the phone.
‘Martin?’
My heart stopped aching, and stopped beating instead. When had she stopped calling me Daddy and started saying Martin again?
‘Hello. Are you having a nice time?’
I ask Belle questions I’d never dream of asking an adult.
‘Really nice! Lucy’s given me lipspit!’
‘You mean lipstick.’
‘No.’
It sounded like she dropped something.
‘I can’t talk any more,’ she said, and let go of the phone.
Lucy picked it up.
‘We’re playing models and cowboys,’ she said apologetically.
‘Models and cowboys – how many of you are there?’
‘Just two. Belle’s a model, I’m a cowboy.’
‘Sounds like fun, baby.’
She laughed loudly down the phone.
‘You should see Belle now. She’s stuck one of the plastic pistols in the lining of her skirt and is wearing a fancy hat. She’s going to go far!’
I wondered which of us had bought the plastic pistols for Belle. Probably me, seeing as I was keen for her not to grow up to be a girly girl. But at that moment I regretted it bitterly. Children shouldn’t play with guns, no matter whether they’re girls or boys.
‘I miss you,’ Lucy said.
‘Me too.’
I had to go, otherwise I’d miss my plane. Another trip to Texas. Last time I’d had Lucy at my side. Now I was travelling alone. If that sheriff in Houston, Esteban Stiller, had managed to block my passport I would find myself in serious trouble, with both the American and Swedish authorities.
‘Got to go,’ I said. ‘I’ll be in touch.’
‘Be careful,’ Lucy said.
‘Always, baby.’
Then she was gone. She and my daughter. I put the mobile in the inside pocket of my jacket. I’d have preferred to travel in shorts and a t-shirt, but it’s important to look smart. Especially when you’re in the shit.
I’d had to take a decision about all the mobiles I was dragging around. It wouldn’t do to look like I was running some sort of smuggling operation. So I’d made my selection and was only taking four. If I needed more I could always buy them when I was there. I had given Didrik a number he could call if necessary. I wasn’t planning to use that particular phone to call anyone else.
My plane took off on time. I was flying first class, and was deluged with offers of everything from snacks to alcohol. I turned down everything except the evening meal. Then I leaned back and closed my eyes.
In my dream I was chased by new horrors. Once again I was buried alive, standing up, but in Didrik’s back garden this time. Mio was holding the spade.
‘I want to stay here!’ he was howling. ‘I want to stay here!’
‘You can!’ I shouted back. ‘I promise! No one’s going to force you to live with your real dad!’
When the stewardess woke me I was in a cold sweat.
‘Are you okay?’ she said. ‘We’re about to land.’
I nodded. Everything was okay; nothing was okay.
Little Mio’s plea to be allowed to stay with Rebecca and Didrik was throbbing in my head. Rebecca and Didrik seemed to imagine that there would come a day when Mio no longer remembered his name was Mio. I thought about Belle. She was the same age as Mio. No way was her memory so fragile and short that she could forget who she was? That would be like forgetting a large part of her childhood. But on the other hand, I couldn’t help noticing how her memory worked. She didn’t seem able to absorb the fact that her grandparents were gone for good. And she didn’t really seem to have much idea of when they died. If anyone asked her, she didn’t know how a week related to a year. Children don’t define time the way adults do. And when I ransacked my own memory I realised that I couldn’t remember a single thing before I was six.
They murdered four people, I reminded myself. They have absolutely no right to keep Mio.
But perhaps this wasn’t about Rebecca and Didrik’s rights. Perhaps it was more about Mio’s. Where would he end up if he lost Rebecca and Didrik? It was obvious that he’d developed a close bond to them both. Moving him would only add to the traumas he had already suffered. What sort of man would he grow up to become? I didn’t want to think about that. Rebecca and Didrik may well be right about him forgetting who he had once been. But that didn’t mean that the loss of his mother, Sara, whom he hadn’t even been allowed to grieve for properly, wouldn’t leave lifelong scars.
I t
hought about all this while I was standing with my passport in my hand, approaching border control. I carefully avoided asking myself what I would have done if I’d been in Rebecca and Didrik’s situation. Would I have lost my grip and started killing people? I wanted to say I wouldn’t. But the truth is that I didn’t know.
The passport queue slowly shrank. I was confronted by more immediate problems. What would happen if I got picked up at the border? Would I be put in jail? Or just placed on the next flight back to Sweden?
‘Next.’
I hurried forward to the woman behind the desk. My heart began to beat faster and sweat was making my hands slippery.
‘What’s the purpose of your visit to the USA?’ the woman said as she studied my passport.
I’m here to find a serial killer and mafia boss.
I didn’t say that.
‘Just a holiday,’ I said.
‘It’s not long since you were last here,’ she said.
There was no hint of accusation in her words. More a simple statement.
‘The USA is a fine country,’ I said.
The woman stopped and looked at me. I forced a smile and hoped I didn’t look too panic-stricken.
A man behind me said loudly: ‘Why does it always have to take so damn long!’
He was dressed in a suit, and looked stressed the way only a certain type of businessman does (the ones who never make it as far as they would have liked).
The woman behind the desk shook her head at him. Then she took my fingerprints, got me to stare straight into a camera, then stamped my passport.
The Lies We Tell Page 25