The Gallows Bird

by Camilla Lackberg

  ‘Uffe, are you planning to do any work today, or what?’ Simon gave him a stern look, and with a sigh Uffe got up from the chair. He grinned at the camera on the wall and went out front. He’d have to give in and look busy for a while. But tonight . . . tonight he and Barbie were going to have a serious talk.

  On his way out of the station, Mellberg stopped by Hedström’s office. Both Patrik and Martin were there. They looked busy. There were papers spread all over the desk, and Martin was writing in his notebook. Patrik was on the phone and had the receiver clamped between his ear and shoulder, leaving his hands free to search through the papers in front of him at the same time. For a moment Mellberg considered going in to find out what was so urgent. But he decided against it. He had more important things to do. Like going home and getting ready for his date with Rose-Marie. They were meeting at seven o’clock at the Gestgifveri, which meant that he had two hours left to make himself as presentable as possible.

  He was breathing heavily by the time he’d made the short walk home. He wasn’t in the best of shape, he had to admit. When he stepped into his flat he saw everything for an instant with the eyes of a stranger. This would not do at all. Even he could see that. If he were to get lucky and have her over for a little nighttime interlude at his place, something would have to be done. His whole body protested at the idea of doing any sort of cleaning. On the other hand he’d seldom had such a good incentive. He was surprised how important it seemed to make a good impression.

  An hour later he was panting as he sat down on the sofa. Its cushions had been fluffed for the first time since he’d moved in. All of a sudden he realized why he rarely did any housework. It was much too strenuous. But when he looked around the flat he could see that the cleaning had actually worked wonders. The place no longer looked so slovenly. He had a few nice pieces of furniture that he’d inherited from his parents. Relieved of the layer of dust the furniture didn’t look half bad. He’d also managed to air out the mouldy smell that usually hung in the air, originating from leftover food and other unhygienic stuff. The worktop, which was usually cluttered with dirty dishes, shone in the springtime sun. Now he could actually picture bringing a woman here.

  Mellberg looked at the clock and got up abruptly. Only an hour left until he would meet Rose-Marie, and he was sweaty and covered with dust. He would have to get cleaned up fast. He looked through his clothes for something to wear. The selection was not as large as he would have wished. On closer inspection, most of his shirts and trousers had spots on them, and they hadn’t been anywhere near an iron in a long time. Finally by a process of elimination he ended up with a blue-and-white-striped shirt, black trousers, and a red tie with Donald Duck on it. This last he thought looked really smart. And red suited him, if he did say so himself. The trousers however belonged to the unironed category, and he pondered how to solve that problem. He searched all over the flat, but there was no iron to be found. His gaze fell on the sofa and a brilliant idea occurred to him. He tore off the seat cushions and carefully spread out the trousers as flat as possible. Of course it wasn’t that clean underneath the cushions, but he could deal with that later. It was mostly lint and crumbs that could be brushed off. He put back the cushions and sat down for five minutes. If he then spent another five minutes on the sofa after he got out of the shower, the trousers would probably look freshly ironed. Lucky that he wasn’t one of those helpless bachelors, he thought with satisfaction. He was still able to find a good solution to any problem.

  People began to stream towards the community centre, where the dance was being held. The beds of the cast had been moved out, and they’d had to lock up their personal possessions. No one had been admitted into the hall yet, so the queue was growing longer and snaking through the parking area. The girls stood there freezing and hopping in place. The cool spring wind was doing its best to make them regret they’d worn their shortest skirts and their most low-cut tops. The one thing that all the people in line had in common was the expectant expression on their faces. This was the most exciting event to occur in Tanumshede in a long time. Young people were coming from the whole community and even some from out of town, from Strömstad and Uddevalla. They eagerly watched the door that would soon be opened. Inside were their heroes, their idols. They had succeeded in getting what everyone else could only dream of. Becoming a celebrity. Getting invited to parties with other celebrities. Being seen on TV. So maybe tonight someone from town might get a chance to grab some of the star power. Do something that would make the cameras point at them. Like that girl on Sodding Töreboda. She’d managed to hook up with Andreas from The Bar and then she was on several episodes of the show. Imagine being able to pull off something like that. The girls tugged nervously at their clothes, taking lip gloss out of their purses to apply another coat. They fluffed their hair and sprayed it while trying to see the results in tiny pocket mirrors. The tension was palpable.

  Fredrik Rehn laughed when he saw the queue out of the window. ‘Look here, boys and girls. Here come the extras. We have to make the most out of this evening, okay? Don’t hold back. Drink and have a good time and do whatever you feel like doing.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Just make sure to do it in front of the cameras. I don’t want to hear about anybody sneaking out to have some fun on their own. That could mean a lawsuit for breach of contract. You’re here to work and your job is to go out there and liven up the place.’

  ‘Then what the hell is Jonna doing here?’ Uffe laughed and looked around the group for approval. ‘She couldn’t even liven up an old folks’ home.’ His raw laugh was familiar to the others, but Jonna didn’t even bother looking at him. She kept her eyes fixed on her lap.

  ‘Jonna is incredibly popular with the girls in the fourteen to nineteen age demographic. Many of them identify with her. That’s why we want her here.’ But Fredrik couldn’t help agreeing with Uffe. The girl was like a social black hole. So fucking depressed. The decision to include her had been made against his wishes, and he just had to live with it.

  ‘So, are you all clear about what’s important tonight? Party, party, party!’ He pointed to the drinks table that was decked out. ‘And we’re all going to support Tina tonight when she sings her song. Right?’ He stared at Uffe, who merely snorted.

  ‘Yeah yeah, whatever. So, can we start drinking now, or what?’

  ‘Be my guest,’ said Fredrik with a smile. His teeth shone a dazzling white. ‘Let’s put on a great show tonight!’ He held both thumbs up in the air.

  His remarks were met with a scattered murmur of assent. Then they attacked the drinks table.

  The people queued up outside slowly began entering the hall.

  Anna was making dinner when Patrik came home. Erica was sitting with the children in the living room watching Bolibompa on Channel 1. Maja waved her arms in delight every time Björne came on screen, and Emma and Adrian seemed to be in a trance. Erica’s stomach was growling loudly, and she sniffed hungrily at the aroma of Thai food coming from the kitchen. Anna had promised to make something that was both delicious and low-cal, and judging by the smell she was keeping her promise when it came to the first pledge.

  ‘Hi, darling,’ said Erica with a smile when Patrik came into the room. He looked tired. A bit scruffy too, when she looked more closely. ‘What have you been doing today? You look . . . tousled,’ she said, pointing at his shirt.

  Patrik peered down at his dirty clothes and sighed. He began unbuttoning his shirt. ‘I was in our dusty archives digging for something. I’ll go up and take a quick shower and put on some clean clothes. Tell you more later.’

  Erica watched him disappear up the stairs to the bedroom. She went out to join Anna in the kitchen.

  ‘Did Patrik come home? I thought I heard the door,’ Anna said without looking up from her pots.

  ‘Yes, he did. But he went upstairs to shower and change clothes. Looks like he had a sweaty day at work.’

  Now Anna looked up. ‘Could you help me set the table? Then it’ll a
ll be ready when he comes down.’

  The timing was perfect. Patrik came down the stairs, his hair wet and wearing his comfy clothes, just as Anna set the big pot on the table.

  ‘Mmm, that smells good,’ he said with a smile to Anna. The whole atmosphere was different now that Anna had come out of her funk.

  ‘It’s a Thai curry, made with light coconut milk. With rice and wokked veggies.’

  ‘Why this sudden urge for a healthy diet?’ said Patrik sceptically, no longer so sure that the food would taste as good as it smelled.

  ‘Your future bride expressed a wish that you both look fantastic when you walk down the aisle. So “Plan Fantastic” starts now.’

  ‘Well, you do have a point there,’ said Patrik, pulling down his T-shirt to hide the bulge that had started to form over the past couple of years. ‘What about the kids? Aren’t they eating with us?’

  ‘No, they’re having fun in the living room,’ said Anna. ‘It’s our chance to have some peace and quiet.’

  ‘But Maja? Can she take care of herself?’

  Erica laughed. ‘What a mother hen you are. She’ll be fine for a while. And believe me, Emma will pipe up if Maja does anything wrong.’

  As if on cue they heard a shrill voice from the living room. ‘Ericaaaa – Maja’s messing with the video!’

  Patrik laughed and got up. ‘I’ll take it. You two sit down and serve yourselves.’

  They could hear him scolding Maja, making sure to give her a kiss afterwards. Even the big kids got a kiss, and he looked more relaxed when he returned and sat down.

  ‘So, what were you toiling over all day?’

  Patrik gave them a brief account of what had happened. Both Anna and Erica put down their forks and stared at him, fascinated by what he was telling them. Erica spoke first.

  ‘But what do you think the connection is? And how are you going to proceed?’

  Patrik finished chewing before he replied. ‘Martin and I phoned around to collect information all afternoon. On Monday we intend to get to the bottom of this.’

  ‘Are you off this weekend?’ said Erica, happily surprised. Patrik spent too many weekends working.

  ‘Yes I am, for once. And the people I have to talk to won’t be available until Monday anyway. So I’m at your disposal this weekend, girls.’ He smiled broadly and Erica couldn’t help smiling back. How quickly time had passed. It felt like only yesterday that they first got together, and yet it seemed like they had always been a couple. Sometimes she forgot that she’d ever had a life without Patrik. And in a few weeks they would be married.

  In the living room she heard her daughter prattling. Now that Anna was back on her feet, Erica could enjoy her life again.

  Rose-Marie was already sitting at the table when Mellberg arrived, ten minutes late. It had turned out not to be as easy as he’d planned to brush off the trousers he had pressed under the sofa cushions. And a big clump of chewing gum had stuck to the seat; it took all his ingenuity and a very sharp knife to remove it. The fabric was a bit threadbare after applying the knife, but if he pulled down his jacket far enough she probably wouldn’t notice. He took one last glance in the glass of a framed picture to assure himself that everything was in order. Tonight he had taken special care to coil his hair artfully on top of his head. Not a bit of his shiny scalp could be seen. He thought with satisfaction that he carried his age with dignity.

  He was again surprised when his heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. What was it about this middle-aged and slightly podgy woman that could affect him this way? All he could think of was her eyes. They were the bluest he had ever seen, and they were even more piercing because of the reddish hue of her hair. He stared at her as if entranced, not noticing at first her outstretched hand. Then he recovered and found himself bowing in the old-fashioned way and kissing her hand. For a moment he felt like an idiot and couldn’t conceive where that impulse had come from. But then he saw that his dinner date seemed to appreciate it, and a lovely warm feeling spread through him. He still had the moves, and he knew how to do things with style.

  ‘How pleasant this is. I’ve never been here before,’ she said softly, as they perused the menu.

  ‘It’s a first-class establishment, I assure you,’ said Mellberg, puffing himself up as if he were the one who owned the Gestgifveri.

  ‘Yes, and the ambience is excellent as well.’ Her eyes took in all the delicacies on the menu. Mellberg also studied the offerings, and for a moment he panicked when he saw the prices. But then he met Rose-Marie’s gaze across the top of the menus and the uneasiness in his stomach calmed down. On a night like this, money was no object.

  She looked out of the window, up towards the community centre. ‘I hear there are festivities over there tonight.’

  ‘It’s those reality show people. We’re usually able to avoid such affairs in these parts. Our colleagues in Strömstad normally get all those sorts of event, and they also have to deal with the drunkenness and vandalism that follow.’

  ‘Are you expecting problems? Can you really take the night off from work?’ Rose-Marie looked concerned.

  Mellberg’s sense of pride and self-importance swelled even more. It was nice to feel like a big shot in the company of a beautiful woman. That had happened far too seldom since he was so rudely transferred to Tanumshede. For some reason people had a hard time appreciating his true qualities here.

  ‘I have two officers assigned to keep an eye on things,’ he said. ‘So we can have a nice dinner and enjoy ourselves in peace and quiet. A good chief knows how to delegate, and I’ll admit to having a real talent for that.’

  A smile from Rose-Marie confirmed that she didn’t doubt he was an excellent chief. This was turning out to be a very pleasant evening.

  Mellberg looked up towards the community centre again. Then he purged his mind of the whole business. Martin and Hanna could take care of it. There were more enjoyable matters requiring his attention.

  Tina did the few voice exercises she knew before she went up on stage. Of course she would just be singing playback; it was enough if she mimed the words with the mike in her hand. But you never knew. Once, in Örebro, the playback CD had suddenly stopped working, and since she hadn’t rehearsed properly, she’d had to croak her way through the song live. She never wanted to be in that position again.

  She knew that the others were laughing behind her back. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t bother her. On the other hand she couldn’t do much else but go up on stage and show everybody what she could do. This was her big chance at a singing career. She had wanted to be a singer ever since she was a little girl. So many hours she had stood in front of the mirror miming to pop songs, using the handle of her jump rope or whatever was available as a mike. With her appearance on The Bar she’d finally had a chance to show her stuff. She had gone to an audition for Idol before she tried out for The Bar, but that was an experience that still stung. Those morons on the jury had ripped her to shreds, and the clip was replayed over and over again on TV. She had just stood there with a stupid grin on her face. Then that prat Clabbe told her to clear off home. But the humiliation had continued until, on the verge of tears, she had defiantly told them that everybody else reckoned she had a fine singing voice. Her mamma and pappa used to listen to her with tears in their eyes they were so proud of her. And to think she had been so happy when she had stood there in the queue early that morning and looked about, sure of victory, sure that she’d be one of those chosen. Tina had selected a song she was sure would impress them: ‘Without You’ by her idol, Mariah Carey. She would give it everything she had and blow the jury members away. Then she would start on a whole new life. She had pictured it all so clearly. Celebrity parties and Idol hysteria. Summer tours and videos on MTV. But it had all gone so wrong.

  When the producers of The Bar called, it had been like a gift from heaven. It was an opportunity that she didn’t intend to pass up. After a while she managed to figure out what had made her flop
on Idol. It was her breasts, of course. The jury had liked her song, but they didn’t want her on the show because they knew she wouldn’t be a hit if she didn’t have the rest of the equipment needed. And for a girl that usually meant big boobs. So as soon as the shooting for The Bar started, she had begun saving up. She saved every öre until she finally had enough to pay for breast enlargement surgery. With the D-cups in place, nothing could stop her. But she drew the line at bleaching her hair. Despite everything she was a smart girl.

  Leif hummed as he stepped out of the truck. Usually he just drove the route in the Fjällbacka area, but with so many workers out with the stomach flu it meant that he had to drive more hours and cover a bigger area than normal. But he didn’t mind. He loved his job, and rubbish was rubbish no matter where he collected it. He’d even got used to the smell over the years. There weren’t many smells left that could make him wrinkle his nose. Unfortunately his blunted sense of smell prevented him from being able to notice the fragrance of freshly baked cinnamon buns or the perfume of a beautiful woman, but those were the breaks. He liked going to work, and there weren’t many people who could say that.

  He pulled on his big work gloves and pressed one of the buttons on the instrument panel. The green refuse truck began puffing and blowing off air as the hoisting arm was lowered. Usually he could stay in the cab while the arm picked up the bin and dumped the contents directly into the press, but this particular bin wasn’t positioned correctly, so he had to drag it over manually.

  Now he stood there watching the truck lift the bin. It was still quite early in the morning, and he yawned. He usually went to bed early, but he’d been taking care of the boys last night, his beloved grandchildren. They’d been allowed to stay up and roughhouse a bit too long, but it was worth it. He exhaled and watched the white cloud of his breath rise upwards. It was damned cold, even though they were a good way into April. But the temperature could still drop rapidly.