Killer's Island

by Anna Jansson

  “What, didn’t you know that easy one! Come on, Erika!” Anders yelled.

  Erika made an obscene gesture at him. Judging by their faces, this was inappropriate. Ladies did not make obscene gestures, not at “Anders parties.” Now she knew for sure.

  “Okay, I’ll give you one more chance. A really easy one. If you can’t answer this you’re real losers. Big losers!” said Petter.

  “What, they’re having another question just because they’re stupid?” said Dizzy Tits and gave Self-Important Jackass a reproachful stare. She leaned forward to have her glass topped off. When she straightened up she rested her hand on Anders’s thigh and kept it there a little bit too long. Then looked too deeply into his eyes. Erika would have liked to claw them out with her sharpened forefinger. He’s mine! Do something, Anders! Remove her hand! But Anders just laughed.

  “Come on then, let’s hear it,” said Erika’s teammate.

  “Who sang a duet with Mauro Scocco in the song: As Long as We Have Each Other?”

  Erika was quite bewitched by that hand on Anders’s thigh. Dizzy Tits leaned forward again and he could not take his eyes off her breasts for more than a few seconds at a time.

  “To be frank with you I couldn’t give a damn!” she said loudly.

  They stared at her. All of them.

  “Annifrid Lyngstad,” said Fat Hips. “That was actually our question, anyway.” She looked at Anders and earned herself an approving smile. That sealed it. Erika stood up and went outside. Tottered through the kitchen, tore off her high-heeled shoes. A hand grabbed her arm. The floor swayed and she dropped into someone’s lap. The man’s face came much too close to her. His beard-stubble grazed her cheek. In spite of having drunk a lot herself, she could smell his boozy breath. His eyes looked like rolling hand grenades soon to be tossed into a crowd. With a bit of luck they’d all be blown to pieces.

  “You know darling, you have to watch out with that fellow. Anders, you know… he knows what makes women tick.” He allowed her back on her feet when she started struggling. “When we were students together at Lund… oh damn.” He roared with laughter, then his eyes grew shrewd. “At these parties there are no rules about going home with the same person you turned up with. Not at all,” he rumbled and slapped her bottom as she freed herself. “A bit of variety is always welcome.”

  “Erika, where are you going?” Anders’s happy mug appeared in the doorway. He didn’t seem to have understood a thing.

  “Where do you think!?” she hissed and the man twisted up in the chair broke into peals of laughter. Anders joined in. As they laughed their mouths turned into echoing black holes.

  “The powder room, I see. Excuse me.”

  That’s when she walked off. Took her shoes in her hand and just wandered off into the dark. Away from the party, away from all those idiots. I hate you! I hate you, you pompous puffed-up shit, and all your stuck-up friends! What the hell had she come here for?

  She walked down toward the sea and passed the Beach Café. The outside tables were full of buzzing teenagers in summer clothes. Disco music made the windows rattle like tambourines in the summer night. From Sjöviksgården one could hear the melodies of the older generation. Take me to the sea… and make me into a king.… A king of the summer and the night.… What had made her believe in love this time, when it had always gone wrong before? She thought about this while she undressed behind the sauna and left her clothes under a rock.

  She walked into the sea until the water came up to her waist. She slid into the black mirror and took a few powerful strokes under the water. Down she went into another world where the shame could no longer reach her. The iciness of the water wrenched her lungs and took the edge off her humiliation, as if she could not concentrate on both things at once. Slowly the water grew more bearable. Indolently the waves calmed her churning inner sea while her thoughts wafted by without her paying any particular mind to them. Here she was alone; no one needed to see her. It makes all the difference in the world to be in one’s own loneliness rather than being pitied and stared at by others just because one’s alone. She wasn’t alone at work. There, she was needed and appreciated and pretty tough. Anders probably thought that was what she was like. That was most likely why he thought she’d be able to take the heat and quickly become one of the gang.

  Did I overreact, she asked herself? Like so many times before she regretted not just having gone with the flow, clenching her jaw and joining in with the others, just for a while, anyway; maybe things would have got better. Sometimes things do look up, she thought sleepily to herself as she started swimming toward land. She’d drifted further out than she’d realized. The wind bore away from the shore. It had been so easy swimming out, but now there was resistance. Her joints were frozen and stiff and the waves washed over her and made her choke. For a moment she was afraid she wouldn’t manage it. What an idiot she’d been to swim out like this, drunk and all by herself. She regretted her actions and longed to be back in the warmth. With Anders… if he were still there for her, the way she’d behaved. Maybe he’d already left with someone else. If so, it would definitely be over. She wouldn’t have to agonize about it any more. She put all her anger into her swim strokes. One stroke, another, don’t give up even though it would be so much easier giving up and going with the current. She saw Anders and his admirers before her and hated them with every stroke. A little further, just a little further. Dizzy Tits putting her hand on Anders’s thigh. Fat Hips kissing him on the mouth. In fact, when she thought about it, Fat Hips had not actually kissed him on the lips – but it was only a question of time.

  A big wave washed over Erika’s head. It came in from the side and she wasn’t ready for it. She sank down and pushed down with her feet, feeling for the bottom. Not yet. Was she swimming in the right direction? Yes, in the pale moonlight she could see the white sand, the lights from Sjöviksgården and the outlines of buildings. When after an eternity she came in closer she saw there was someone standing there at the edge of the water, waiting for her. A dark figure. A man. It should be Anders but she wasn’t sure. Suddenly it occurred to her that she didn’t have any clothes on. They were under the rock. She was alone, naked and defenseless. She wasn’t even sure she’d have the strength to scream.

  The man was motionless. He should have called out. If it were Anders he would have called out to her as she came wading in, exhausted, through the breaking waves. He would have given her an exuberant wave, he was always exuberant in all his bodily gestures, like a teenager without any real control of his movements. Maybe he was angry. Of course, he must be angry with her for behaving like that and leaving. But something wasn’t quite right here. Was it Anders? She rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes to get a better look. His build was like Anders’s. He was wearing a beach robe. Probably he was quiet like this because she’d behaved like such an idiot. She couldn’t see his face because of the hood. By the time she taken the last few strides, panting and shivering onto the beach and she saw that the man was masked under his hood, it was too late. He’d already come up close and his strong arm had already gripped her upper arm.

  “Anders,” she said, trying his name even though she already knew this was all wrong. This was a bad dream she’d either wake from with a terrible hangover or not at all.… This was and wasn’t Anders at the same time.

  The man didn’t answer. His eyes glinted from behind the mask in the shadow under the hood of the gown. He turned around to make sure he wasn’t being watched, then tightened his grip with ferocious strength.

  “Help, help me!” her voice was swallowed by the wind and the waves. “Let me go, what do you want?” She tried to get out of his grip. She was strong and fit and she’d done any number of self-defense courses. But it wasn’t doing her any good now; she was drunk and exhausted after her swim. “Let me go! Please! Leave me alone!” If she could only catch her breath she’d recover her strength.

  He shook his head. His hand moved up to her mouth. With his
other hand, and the weight of his body, he pressed her down toward the water. Slowly. She didn’t have the strength. She collapsed, fell backward through the weight of water, scraping her back against a rock. Her head was under the water. Gasping for air she re-emerged, only to be pressed down again. The pressure of his knee over her neck – she was a helpless victim, she couldn’t fight him any more. She breathed in water and sand and coughed and inhaled more water until her last reserves of strength drained out of her, and she couldn’t resist, couldn’t.…

  CHAPTER 30

  SHE WAS AWAKENED by the cold. An icy cold that made her muscles contract and tremble uncontrollably. Someone was breathing very close to her. Something cold and wet slid across her face and the breathing grew heavier. Then came a voice. A woman’s voice, screaming. Maybe it was Erika who was screaming?

  The scream undulated and pulsated as it grew louder. Erika shivered so hard that her skin smarted.

  The voice was there again, now much closer and its words grew intelligible.

  “We have to call an ambulance. I didn’t bring the cell phone. You’re a faster runner than me.”

  Erika opened her eyes and stared straight into a mouth full of sharp teeth. A pair of round, yellow eyes fixed onto her, watching her every move. A nose pushed into her side. She had a coughing fit, and suddenly felt violently ill, only just having time to turn her head slightly and throw up.

  “Shall we move her onto her side?” A man’s voice, represented by two legs in denim. Erika didn’t even have the strength to lift her head any more.

  “I think she’s conscious.” The woman tugged at the leash, and made her dogs lie down.

  “I’ll go fetch some help.” The man again.

  “How are you feeling?” asked the woman as her face drew very close.

  Erika was too exhausted to be ashamed of herself. “I’m okay.” She tried to gauge whether in fact this were true. She could raise her head off the ground now. And move her arms and legs, although they were trembling and hurting.

  “Wait, Jonny! She’s waking up.” He carried on running. The woman stood up and called out again.

  Erika saw him stopping further down and turning round. For an instant it occurred to her that he might be the same man who’d been waiting for her on the beach. The man who’d tried to drown her. He was almost as tall, but nowhere near as skinny. Maybe it had all been a dream, a hallucination.

  “What happened?” asked the woman, smoothing away a few strands of hair from Erika’s face.

  “I don’t know. I was swimming.” She tried to remember and what she did remember she had no desire to talk about. She’d had too much to drink, far too much, and she’d made an idiot of herself.

  “Do you want us to call the police? And an ambulance?” the man asked, out of breath, after coming back to them.

  Erika shook her head. This was more than enough without her colleagues finding out what she’d done. The woman had covered Erika with her overcoat. They’d found her lying naked on the beach. She’d been vomiting. The slut lay there crying out her accusations. She wished she were dead.

  “When you found me, was I alone?” she asked, and her fear of the answer came washing over her like an ice-cold wave. Was the image of the man on the beach created by too much alcohol or had it really happened?

  The woman tried to help Erika sit up and sweep the overcoat tighter round her body, while the man turned away politely. “It was the dogs that found you,” she said. “They started barking. We couldn’t see, the sauna was in the way. We weren’t even walking in that direction, but the dogs wouldn’t give up.”

  “We were just taking them for a quick walk before we went to bed ourselves,” the man continued. “There are still some people partying at the Beach Café, but we didn’t see anyone on the road.” He checked his wristwatch and added. “It’s quarter past two. It’ll hardly get dark tonight, Midsummer’s night, before dawn comes again.”

  “Did something bad happen to you? I mean, did someone assault you?” The woman’s eyes were searching and anxious. Protectively she put her arm around Erika and gave her man a demanding look. He should understand the seriousness of the situation and not start rambling about inconsequential things.

  “I don’t know.” Her concern made Erika explore her own feelings. In fact, she wasn’t quite sure what had happened. It was so loathsome and horrible that she started crying. How could she even know if someone had taken her body as she lay there naked and unconscious on the beach?

  “I do think we should call for help, anyway,” said the man.

  “No, no, I’ll be fine.” Erika could see her colleagues before her. Maria would be furious because she hadn’t taken better care of herself. Jesper Ek would never stop giving her a hard time about it, and Hartman would be objective and professional without managing to hide what he was really thinking.

  “Do you know where your clothes are?” asked the man, who seemed impatient to carry on walking his dogs.

  Erika pointed at the place behind the white-washed sauna where she thought she’d waded into the water. As she stumbled off in that general direction, the man scolded her.

  “I’ll get them for you.” He disappeared and came back with the bundle of clothes under his arm. Still shivering, Erika got dressed with the borrowed overcoat over her shoulders.

  “I’m sorry, it’s completely wet.” She handed back the garment, with thanks.

  “Never mind about that. Can we do anything else for you? Shall we go with you somewhere?” The woman looked at her husband, who’d taken control of the dogs, tugging at their leashes. He seemed bothered now. And small wonder. Probably he had a clear idea of what had happened. She’d been vomiting like a proper drunk and wasn’t wearing a stitch when they found her. Probably he thought it was all her own fault. She noted where he was looking and felt her hair, sticky and stinking of vomit.

  “Me and my friend are renting a cottage nearby. I’ll be fine. I’m really grateful to you for following your dogs and finding me.”

  Once they’d left her and she only saw their backs she felt much better. She went back to the water and rinsed out her hair. Some of the vomit had also ended up on her dress, where the fabric touched her hair. She would change clothes once she got back to the cottage. In the warmth. In Anders’s bed, if he wanted her there. How could she have been such an idiot? There was no guarantee he’d want anything to do with her any more.

  There again, what about him? Shouldn’t he share some of the blame, Erika thought to herself? When she left the party she’d been convinced it was his fault. And nothing else had fundamentally happened to change that. Apart from the fact that she’d vomited and lain on the beach and that some strangers had seen her. But Anders wasn’t in a position to know that. And she was certainly not going to tell him either.

  Erika hurried past Sörviksgården. The Maypole stood abandoned in the middle of the lawn, decorated with oxeye daisies, columbines, and other Midsummer flowers tied onto a bed of oak leaves. A little earlier there had been dancing there and accordion music had echoed over the water. The dancing had left its marks in the ground, like a circle in the gravel. There wasn’t a single person in sight. It felt unpleasant. She regretted not letting the friendly couple accompany her to the cottage in spite of all. Why is it easier for a man who’s had a few too many to accept, than for a woman? Why is the disgrace so much keener and the tolerance level so much lower for a woman who’s gone beyond the limit?

  Thoughts of what might have happened while she lay there naked and vulnerable in the sand started coming, although she tried to push them away.

  What had actually happened? It all felt so real when she looked back at it. A man wearing a cape, like a medieval monk. His hands round her throat. There would be marks, surely? That would prove that it had actually happened. What if Erika had been raped, as the woman feared? The thought disgusted her indescribably.

  Erika continued down Storvägen through the village while dawn rose and its gray light
filtered down over the road. Smakrike, the Claudelin house, Frej’s Magasin, and Restaurant Bruna Dörren – all closed and locked for the night. Directly after Lövängen Pension, a white, single-story building, she turned into Louis Sparres Väg. It wasn’t far now to the cottage. Erika slowed down. It felt difficult, having to face Anders again. She saw the kitchen light on from afar, and a bluish light from the computer screen. Was he awake? Waiting for her?

  She was just about to press down on the door handle when the door was flung open from the inside.

  “Where the hell have you been? Do you understand how worried I’ve been?” He took her by both shoulders, held her at arm’s length and shook her. “What happened?”

  Erika couldn’t think of anything to say. Her head was empty. All the answers she’d been practicing on the road had vanished. “I went out.”

  “I noticed!” he said in a hard voice. “We’ve been looking for you, we’ve ALL been looking for you! The last few people went home ten minutes ago. I was going to call the police, until I realized it might compromise you in some way. I hope you have a good explanation.” He didn’t let go, didn’t let her into his arms and didn’t forgive her, but forced her to look directly into his eyes. “Don’t you understand I was worried?”

  “Yes.” It was as if her own anger had no room when his was so much greater and took up so much room. His voice was much more powerful, his hands so much stronger. His anxiety seemed more justifiable than her feelings of abandonment at the party. They had all looked for her. She had humiliated them both.

  “Where were you? Whatever you’ve done I want to know! Did you go to bed with someone? I want the truth!”

  “You’re insane!” It hadn’t even occurred to her that he’d think she’d been unfaithful. Poor Anders, what would his friends say?