Patrick Hedstrom 07: The Lost Boy

by Camilla Lackberg

  ‘Have we located the wife and child?’ Petra had been the last one to arrive on the scene. Today should have been her day off, and she and her family had been out at Gröna Lund amusement park when she received the phone call.

  ‘No. According to the cleaning woman, the family had packed their bags to go to Italy. They were supposed to be gone all summer.’

  ‘We need to check with the airlines. If we’re lucky, we’ll find them on the beach, soaking up the sun,’ said Petra, but her expression was grim. She was all too aware of who was lying in that bed upstairs, and what sort of people he associated with. It seemed highly improbable that his wife and child were enjoying the sunshine. It was much more likely that they were lying dead in the woods somewhere. Or at the bottom of the bay at Nybroviken.

  ‘I’ve already got someone looking into it.’

  Petra nodded with satisfaction. She and Konrad had worked together for over fifteen years, and their relationship functioned better than many marriages. But in terms of appearance, they were an odd couple, and that was putting it mildly. At five foot ten, and with a solid build that had been shaped by her five pregnancies, Petra towered over Konrad, who was not only short but slight in stature. He had a strangely asexual air about him that made Petra wonder whether he even knew how babies were made. At any rate, in all their years together, she’d never once heard him mention any sort of love life, with either a man or a woman. And she’d never asked. What they had in common was an acute intellect, a dry sense of humour, and a commitment to their job, which they’d managed to retain in spite of all the reorganizations inflicted on them by bosses who were political appointees with no understanding of what constituted good policework.

  ‘We need to put out an alert for them and talk to the boys in narcotics,’ he added.

  ‘Boys and girls,’ Petra corrected him.

  Konrad sighed. ‘All right, Petra. Boys and girls.’

  Petra’s five children were all daughters, so women’s rights were a sensitive subject. He knew that Petra thought women were superior to men, but he’d never been foolish enough to ask her whether that wasn’t reverse discrimination. He was smart enough to keep his thoughts on that subject to himself.

  ‘What a mess it is up there.’ Petra shook her head.

  ‘Looks like a number of shots were fired. The bed is full of bullet holes, and Wester is too.’

  ‘What made them think it would be worth it?’ She let her gaze sweep over the bright living room and then shook her head again. ‘Sure, this is one of the most gorgeous houses I’ve ever seen, and no doubt they were living the good life, but they must have known that sooner or later everything would go to hell. And then he ends up rotting in his own bed, lying on the silk sheets with his body full of bullet holes.’

  ‘That’s something wage-slaves like you and me will never understand.’ Konrad got up from the deep white cushions of the sofa and headed for the front hall. ‘It sounds like the narcotics team is at the door.’

  ‘Good,’ said Petra. ‘Now we’ll get to hear what the boys have to say.’

  ‘And the girls,’ said Konrad, and he couldn’t help smiling.

  ‘What should we do?’ asked Gösta, sounding resigned. ‘It doesn’t sound as if it’s a good idea, talking to those guys.’

  ‘No,’ admitted Patrik. ‘We should probably leave that as a last resort.’

  ‘So what next? We suspect the IE carried out the assault, and possibly the murder, but we don’t dare talk to them. Fine police officers we are.’ Gösta shook his head.

  ‘Let’s head back to the place where Mats was working when the assault occurred. So far we’ve only talked to Leila, but I think we should find out what the other staff members have to say. As I see it, that’s the only way to move forward at the moment.’ He turned on the ignition and started driving towards Hisingen.

  They were ushered inside at once, but Leila was looking a bit exasperated when they were shown to her office.

  ‘Look, we do want to help, but I don’t know what you’re expecting to gain by coming here again.’ She threw out her hands. ‘We’ve shared the documents that we have, and we’ve answered all your questions. We simply don’t know anything else.’

  ‘I’d like to talk to your staff. There are two others here in the office, aren’t there?’ Patrik’s voice was friendly but firm. He realized that it was a nuisance, them turning up like this, but at the same time the Refuge was the only place where they might find out more information. Mats had obviously been dedicated to this organization and its mission, so maybe it was here that they’d learn more about him.

  ‘Okay, you can sit in the break room,’ said Leila with a sigh, motioning to the door to the right of her office. ‘I’ll send in Thomas, and then he can get Marie when you’re done talking to him.’ She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. ‘After that, I’d appreciate it if we could go back to working in peace. We understand that the police need to investigate the murder, and we feel for Matte’s family, but we have important work of our own and there’s nothing else we can tell you. In the four years that Matte worked here, he never said much about his personal life, and no one here has any idea who would want to kill him. Besides, that happened after he moved away.’

  Patrik nodded. ‘I understand. Once we’ve talked to the other staff members, we’ll try to leave you alone.’

  ‘I don’t mean to sound uncooperative, but I’m delighted to hear that.’ She left to speak to her staff while Patrik and Gösta installed themselves in the break room.

  A moment later a tall, dark-haired man in his thirties came in. Patrik had seen him hurry past on their previous visits, but they hadn’t exchanged more than a few words.

  ‘So you worked with Mats?’ Patrik leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and with his hands clasped.

  ‘Yes, I started here soon after Mats did, so it’s been almost four years now.’

  ‘Did the two of you spend any time together outside of work?’ asked Patrik.

  Thomas shook his head. He had brown eyes and a calm manner. He answered without hesitation.

  ‘No, Matte was a very private person. I’ve no idea who his friends were, except for Leila’s nephew. Even they seem to have lost contact.’

  Patrik sighed. It was the same thing everyone had said about Mats.

  ‘Were you aware of any problems he might have had? Either personal or on the job?’ interjected Gösta.

  ‘No, nothing like that,’ replied Thomas at once. ‘Matte was always just … Matte. Incredibly calm and stable. He never got upset. I would have noticed if anything was wrong.’ He met Patrik’s eye without blinking.

  ‘How did he handle the situations that you deal with here?’

  ‘All of us who work here end up being deeply affected by the lives that we come in contact with. At the same time, it’s important to keep our distance; otherwise we’d never be able to keep doing this kind of work. Matte handled it all extremely well. He was warm and compassionate without getting too involved.’

  ‘How did you end up working here? From what I understand, the Refuge is the only women’s crisis centre that employs men. And Leila said that both male employees had to go through a careful screening process,’ said Patrik.

  ‘Yes, Leila has taken a lot of shit because of me and Matte. Maybe you heard that Matte got the job through Leila’s nephew. My mother is one of her best friends, and I’ve known Leila since I was a kid. When I came back to Sweden after doing volunteer work in Tanzania, she asked me whether I would consider working here. I’ve never regretted my decision even for a second. But it’s a big responsibility. If I make any mistakes, it will just add more grist for the mill for those people who are opposed to men working at women’s crisis centres.’

  ‘Did Mats have more contact than usual with any particular client?’ Patrik studied Thomas’s face to see if he might be holding back, but his expression remained as calm as ever.

  ‘No, that’s strictly forbidden, especially bec
ause of what I just told you. We have to maintain a professional relationship with the women and their families. That’s rule number one.’

  ‘And Mats followed that rule?’ asked Gösta.

  ‘We all do,’ said Thomas, looking offended. ‘An organization like this depends on its good reputation. The slightest misstep could be disastrous. For example, the social services offices might stop working with us. And in the long run, that would hurt the very people that we’re trying to help. As I’ve been trying to explain, we men have an even greater responsibility.’ His tone was growing sharper.

  ‘These are questions that we have to ask,’ said Patrik, trying to smooth things over.

  Thomas nodded.

  ‘I know. I’m sorry for sounding upset. It’s just so important not to have any shadows cast on our work, and I know that Leila is deeply worried about the effect all this might have on the organization. Sooner or later, someone is going to think that there’s no smoke without fire, and then everything could start to fall apart. She has risked so much to set up the Refuge, and to run it in her own way.’

  ‘We understand. At the same time, we have to ask some uncomfortable questions. For example, this one.’ Patrik paused and then went on. ‘Did you see any sign that Mats was either using or dealing drugs?’

  ‘Drugs?’ Thomas stared at him. ‘I read the papers this morning. We were outraged by the bullshit they wrote. It’s completely insane. The idea that Matte would be mixed up in that sort of thing is absurd.’

  ‘Have you come across IE?’ Patrik forced himself to go on, though it felt more and more as if he was picking at an open wound.

  ‘The Illegal Eagles, you mean? Yes, I’m sorry to say that I have come across them.’

  ‘We have a witness who says that it was members of that biker gang who put Mats in the hospital. And not a bunch of kids, as Mats claimed.’

  ‘You’re saying it was IE who beat him up?’

  ‘That’s what we’ve been told,’ said Gösta. ‘Have you ever had any dealings with them?’

  Thomas shrugged. ‘We have offered help to some women connected with members of that gang. But we’ve never had more problems with them than with other idiotic boyfriends and husbands.’

  ‘Was Mats the contact person for any of those women?’

  ‘No, not as far as I’m aware. The assault must have been a case of unprovoked violence. He was probably just in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

  ‘That was his version of the incident too. The wrong place at the wrong time.’

  Patrik could hear how sceptical he sounded. Thomas ought to realize that this type of criminal gang didn’t target people for no reason. Why was he trying to make out it was random?

  ‘Well, that’s all for now. Do you have a phone number where we can reach you if we have any other questions? Then we won’t have to keep running over here,’ said Patrik with a wry smile.

  ‘Of course.’ Thomas scrawled his phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to him. ‘Did you want to talk to Marie too?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  The two officers had a brief conversation as they waited. Gösta seemed to have accepted everything Thomas said as the truth and found him to be completely trustworthy. Patrik had his doubts. Thomas had certainly seemed honest and forthright, and he had answered all of their questions. Yet several times Patrik thought he detected some hesitation, although it was more a feeling that he had rather than anything he’d actually observed.

  ‘Hi.’ A young woman came into the break room and shook hands with them. Her palm felt slightly clammy and sweaty, and she had red patches on her neck. Unlike Thomas, she seemed very nervous.

  ‘How long have you worked here?’ Patrik began.

  Marie was fidgeting with her skirt. She was pretty in a doll-like way. A small, turned-up nose, long blond hair that kept falling into her eyes, a heart-shaped face, and blue eyes. Patrik judged her to be about twenty-five, but he wasn’t sure. The older he got, the harder it was to estimate the age of people who were younger than him. Maybe that was a form of self-preservation, so that he could continue to picture himself as twenty-five.

  ‘I started here about a year ago.’ The red patches on her neck grew brighter, and Patrik noticed that every once in a while she swallowed hard.

  ‘Do you like the job?’ He wanted her to relax, to let down her defences. Gösta was leaning back in his chair, listening. He seemed to have decided to leave the interview to Patrik.

  ‘Yes, I love working here. It’s such important work. Of course, it’s tough too, but in an important way, if you know what I mean.’ She was stumbling over her words and seemed to be having trouble formulating her thoughts.

  ‘What did you think of Mats as a colleague?’

  ‘Matte was just so sweet. Everyone liked him – everyone on staff, and the women too. They felt safe with him.’

  ‘Did Mats ever get too involved with any of the women?’

  ‘No, no, that’s rule number one. Never get personally involved.’ Marie shook her head vigorously, making her blond hair fly.

  Patrik cast a quick look at Gösta to see whether he too thought this seemed to be a sensitive topic for her. But Gösta’s face had suddenly gone rigid. Patrik took another look at him. What on earth was wrong?

  ‘Er … I need to … Could I have a word with you? In private?’ He reached out to tug on Patrik’s sleeve.

  ‘Of course. Should we …?’ He motioned towards the door, and Gösta nodded.

  ‘Would you excuse us for a moment?’ Patrik said. Marie looked relieved by this interruption in the conversation.

  ‘What’s wrong? We were just starting to get somewhere,’ snapped Patrik when they stepped out into the corridor.

  Gösta studied his shoes. After clearing his throat a couple of times, he looked up at Patrik with a distraught expression on his face.

  ‘I think I’ve done something really stupid.’

  FJÄLLBACKA 1871

  That turned out to be the most marvellous time of her life. It was only when the boat carrying Karl and Julian had left Fjällbacka and headed for Gråskär that Emelie realized what life on the island had done to her. Now she felt as if she could breathe for the first time in ages.

  And Dagmar insisted on pampering her. Emelie was sometimes embarrassed by how much fuss the old woman made of her, and how little she was expected to do. She tried to help with the cleaning, dishwashing, and cooking, because she wanted to be useful and not a burden. But Dagmar merely chased her away, saying that she ought to rest. Finally Emelie had to surrender to a will stronger than her own. And she had to admit that it was wonderful just to rest. Her back and joints ached, and the child was constantly kicking inside of her. Above all, she felt so tired. At night she could sleep for twelve hours straight and then take a nap after the midday meal, and still not feel fully awake during the daytime.

  It was lovely to have someone taking care of her. Dagmar made her tea and strange brews that were supposed to increase her strength. She also persuaded Emelie to eat the oddest things in order to fortify her body. None of them seemed to help much, because she still felt so tired, but she realized that it made Dagmar happy to feel needed. So Emelie cheerfully ate and drank everything that was placed in front of her.

  What she enjoyed most was the evenings they spent together. Then they would sit in the parlour and converse as they knitted, crocheted, and sewed garments for the baby. Emelie had never devoted much time to such things until she came to stay with Dagmar. As a maid on a farm, she’d had other chores to tend to. But Dagmar was skilled with needle and thread, and she taught Emelie everything she knew. The piles of baby clothes and blankets grew to include little caps, gowns, socks, and everything else a newborn might need. Loveliest of all was the patchwork quilt that they both worked on for a while each evening. On one square after another they embroidered whatever pattern occurred to them. Emelie’s favourite were the squares with hollyhocks. The sight of them always tugged at her hear
tstrings. Because no matter how strange it seemed, she sometimes missed Gråskär. Not Karl or Julian – she didn’t miss them for an instant. But the island had become part of her.

  One evening she’d tried to tell Dagmar about Gråskär and those who inhabited it and why she had never felt alone. But that was the one topic that she and Dagmar couldn’t discuss. Dagmar’s expression had grown stern, and she averted her eyes so that Emelie realized that the elderly woman didn’t want to hear what she was saying. Maybe that wasn’t really so strange. Even she thought it sounded odd when she tried to describe what she’d experienced, although it all seemed so natural when she was on the island. When she was among them.

  There was one other topic that they never discussed. Emelie had tried to ask questions about Karl, about his father and his childhood. But then the same stern expression appeared on Dagmar’s face. The only thing she would say was that Karl’s father had always demanded a great deal from his sons, and that Karl had disappointed him. Dagmar said that she didn’t know all the details, and for that reason she didn’t want to talk about it. So Emelie had stopped asking. Instead she allowed herself to sink into the calm embrace of Dagmar’s home, and in the evenings she knitted little socks for the child whose arrival was rapidly approaching. Gråskär and Karl would have to wait. They belonged to another world, another time. Right now the only things that existed were the sound of her knitting needles and the yarn that shone so white in the glow from the paraffin lamps. She would return to life on the island soon enough. This was all just part of a brief and happy dream.

  FJÄLLBACKA 1871

  That turned out to be the most marvellous time of her life. It was only when the boat carrying Karl and Julian had left Fjällbacka and headed for Gråskär that Emelie realized what life on the island had done to her. Now she felt as if she could breathe for the first time in ages.