Vanished?

by Christer Tholin

  Elin spoke to him in Swedish: “Are you hurt?”

  He gave her a dazed look. “Uh, no, not badly. Sprained my foot. Must have twisted it somehow. And my shoulder hurts where it got hit by the piece of metal.”

  “Did you call the fire department and ambulance?”

  “Yes, I’d already done that before the second explosion.” He was fidgeting with his walkie-talkie. “I tried to get through again, but the walkie-talkie is broken.” He looked in the direction of the fire. “My partner is inside the house. He had just gone in when it blew up. We have to find him!”

  Elin turned to look at the flames. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid there’s no one left to save. We should try instead to get even farther away.” She translated the last sentence into English for Martin.

  “Yes, but what about Lars? He may be suffering from internal injuries.” Martin looked uncertain.

  “I’ll call the emergency number again. Maybe they can tell us when the ambulance is supposed to arrive.” Elin felt for her cell phone. “Oh, right, Liv, do you still have my cell phone?”

  Liv looked about and found it on the seat beside her. She handed it to Elin, who called 112 and explained the problem.

  “It sounds like they’re on the way,” Elin told them. “We can wait a little longer, but if the fire comes any closer, we’ll need to lay Lars on the backseat and drive on out of here.”

  The others agreed.

  Liv seemed to be coming out of her stupor. “Who set the place on fire? And was my husband still inside the house?”

  Elin and Martin gave each other a doubtful look. Then Elin asked the policeman, “Do you know if the two kidnappers were inside the house when it exploded?”

  He thought for a moment. “I don’t really know. I wasn’t inside, but the man—your colleague—said that both of them were in the house. And then my partner went in, and that was when the blast happened.”

  Elin translated for Martin, who turned to Liv: “I’m so sorry. It doesn’t look good.”

  Liv nodded calmly.

  From the street came the sound of a siren, and a fire engine drove up soon afterwards. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The fire truck drove up to the metal plate, and four men climbed out and immediately began to unwind the hoses. It wasn’t long before the water was spraying. The firemen first tackled the trees and bushes to prevent the fire from spreading. The house and cars were beyond saving, anyway.

  One of the men came over to Elin and the others and told them to move farther away from the fire. Elin explained the situation with Lars. The fireman spoke into a walkie-talkie and then turned back to Elin.

  “The ambulance should be here any moment. You stay here with the injured man. The others should take the car and leave the immediate area.”

  Elin translated for Martin, adding, “Martin, can you take the Volvo down to the main road? I’ll stay here with Lars and meet you there as soon as the ambulance arrives.”

  Martin got into the car with Liv and drove off. The policeman limped over to his patrol car. Soon afterwards, the ambulance arrived, and Lars was laid on a stretcher and loaded into the vehicle.

  “Where are you bringing him?” Elin asked.

  “To the hospital in Gävle,” the paramedic replied and asked whether anyone else was injured. Elin showed him the burn on her hand and told him about the limping police officer. The paramedic nodded and said that a second vehicle was on its way. Then he climbed in, and the ambulance drove off.

  There was the sound of more sirens approaching, so Elin headed for the Volvo. The entire length of the street was filled with flashing blue lights as another fire truck, two police cars, and an ambulance sped toward them. Things seemed to be slowly coming under control.

  31

  It was a dreary trip back to Stockholm, with everyone absorbed in their own thoughts. They had stopped at a gas station and picked up some sandwiches and drinks to take care of their most pressing needs. The police had been very understanding, taking only brief initial statements and jotting down their personal information. The second item was complicated by the fact that Liv and Martin were missing their IDs. They had either gone up in flames along with the summerhouse, or Lars had found them. However, under the circumstances, no one had thought to search his jacket pockets. Luckily, the police had accepted Elin’s ID of Liv and Martin and let them go. They would take the official witness statements later on in Stockholm.

  Elin had insisted on driving despite her bandaged hand. It was her left hand, anyway, and the ball of that hand was all she needed to manage the steering wheel.

  She attempted to lighten the mood. “Oh, I’m so looking forward to going home. The first thing I’m doing is taking a nice, warm bath.”

  “Yes, I’d love that, too,” Martin said. “But it just occurred to me that I don’t have a hotel room, anymore. And my suitcase is in the Audi—in Dalarna.”

  “Oh, shit!” Elin exclaimed. “I didn’t even think of that. But we can find you a hotel room and also stop off at a store and get you a few things.”

  “And Martin, you’re obviously welcome to stay with us,” Liv added. “We have a guest room with everything you could possibly need. I can lend you clothing as long as you’re not uncomfortable with that. My husband must be about the same size as you, and the closet is full of clothes.”

  Martin thought it over. As much as he liked Liv, he needed some time to himself right now. The notion of meeting her children and wearing her husband’s clothes—the clothes that belonged to the kidnapper, who had probably just died—was anything but appealing. He turned to Liv and looked her in the eyes.

  “Thank you for your offer, Liv, but I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. I mean, you’re going to want to spend time with your children, and you have a lot to come to terms with. I wouldn’t want to get in the way or be a burden on you. Let me first get a hotel room. We’ll get together in the morning. What do you think?”

  The tears welled up in Liv’s eyes, and she cleared her throat. “Yes, you’re probably right. But if you can’t find a hotel room, you’ll come stay with us, all right?”

  Martin nodded. “Agreed. Elin, let’s find a shopping center. Are they even open on Saturdays?”

  “Of course! This is Sweden, the welfare state that takes care of everyone, especially the retail customer. All the stores are open on weekends.”

  Elin took her cell phone and called information. She was able to book a room at the same hotel where Martin had stayed before.

  Sunday, September 27

  32

  The flames were drawing closer and closer, and the foot of the bed was already on fire. Liv had to tuck in her legs as Martin struggled with the duct tape that was binding her. Unable to rip it apart, he tore off one layer, only to find a new one beneath it. The tape was not just tying her hands and feet: it had her bound fast to the bed as well. Martin had to save her. Liv was shrieking “Martin, help me!” The room was getting hot. Martin ripped off another layer of tape, but now it was stuck to his hand. He tried to tear it off, but no matter how hard he tried, nothing worked. Just then, the ceiling caved in, and the flames engulfed them. He screamed.

  Martin opened his eyes to find himself on the bed in the hotel room, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. Through a slit in the curtain, a ray of light streamed in and blinded his eyes. He took a deep breath, rose from the bed, and slowly paced around the room to calm himself. What a dream he had had. It seemed his subconscious still needed to grapple with the events of the past few days. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be happening too often. But if he thought about it, the dream was a good reflection of his feelings: he had tried to save Liv, but without success. Martin had not yet fully grasped what had happened, but he assumed his attempt to free Liv had set the previous day’s events in motion. Had he not searched for and found her, she would either have freed herself, or they would have released her after the appeal period had expired. It was only because of his interference that three people were probably de
ad now. He would rather not think about it at all.

  Martin went into the bathroom to shower and get dressed. His new things were comfortable and fit well. They were casual clothes that he and Elin had picked up on the fly at the shopping center. They had dropped Liv off there, and she had arranged for a ride home from a woman friend.

  Elin had been genuinely thoughtful toward Martin. She had helped him purchase everything and had even paid for two nights at the hotel. She had also slipped 500 kronor in his hand so that he wouldn’t be totally penniless the next day.

  Martin took the elevator to the ground floor to go to the breakfast buffet. He enjoyed that a great deal. There was a good selection, and he liked the different types of muesli most of all. It was nice being comfortably seated at a table again and having a variety of dishes to choose from.

  He had only been held hostage for a day, but that was enough for him. Liv must be experiencing the same thing even more intensely. After all, she had been locked up much longer: six days in darkness and confusion, with nothing but sandwiches to eat and a sedative in the water. All things considered, she had managed to keep a remarkably even keel. It was only yesterday that she finally succumbed to exhaustion, but that was no big surprise.

  Martin poured some more milk in his coffee. Swedish coffee was much too strong for him—it only tasted good with a lot of milk. He reviewed his situation. He was supposed to return to Berlin on Wednesday, though he could certainly put that off. Jürgen was sure to understand. Then his car was in Dalarna, along with his suitcase. The rest of his luggage was in the summerhouse he had rented in the south of Sweden. On top of that, he now had no ID or driver’s license or credit card. Definitely an interesting predicament. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before.

  Now finished with breakfast, Martin took the elevator back up to his room. He wanted to call Elin to see if she had heard any news about Lars, but since he had no cell phone, the hotel phone was his only option.

  Elin picked up immediately.

  “Elin.”

  “Good morning, it’s Martin. Hope I’m not calling too early.”

  “Hi, Martin. No, I’ve been up a while. Just got off the phone with Lars.”

  “That’s great. How is he?”

  “Well, things don’t seem too bad. But he won’t be coming home until tomorrow. He has a fractured collarbone and a concussion. Other than that, just a couple of scrapes.”

  “Oh, good, that’s not too bad. And how is his mood?”

  “Well, how can I put this? He still sounded somewhat worn out. He also can’t remember the last few minutes before the explosion. All he knows is that he went back into the house a second time, but he doesn’t know how he came out. He only learned about the explosion and the fire from the doctor.”

  “OK. Can he have visitors?”

  “Sure. But his family is coming today, so that might be a bit much all at once. I promised I would pick him up when he gets out tomorrow.”

  “Can I come with you?”

  “Absolutely. No problem. Oh, that’s right—I have some good news. Lars found your wallets and cell phones. They were in his jacket, although he doesn’t remember how they got there.”

  “Oh, that’s great! That makes my life a lot easier. I was wondering how I was going to get home without papers and a driver’s license.”

  “You’ll get it all back tomorrow.”

  They hung up after agreeing to touch base again the next day. Martin was doubly relieved. He was glad that nothing serious had happened to Lars, and it was also great to be getting back his most important belongings. Everything else would sort itself out.

  33

  The headwaiter showed them to a table in the corner with a view out over the water. The restaurant was inside a historic seventeenth-century building that was known as Stallmästaregården. The ceilings by the entryway were low, and everything appeared extremely old and exclusive. The entryway also featured a hearth with a crackling fire, and another lovely fireplace was warming the large dining room.

  Liv and Martin had arranged to meet for dinner that day, and Liv had picked him up. She arrived in an i3, the electric car by BMW and, as Liv put it, “my No. 2 car, very practical for city driving.”

  The drive from Martin’s hotel took no more than ten minutes, and there was a parking spot immediately in front of the restaurant. Martin noticed that the place had hotel rooms as well—a possible alternative in case he needed to extend his stay. It seemed cozy and almost family style to him.

  Liv looked stunning. She was wearing a dark-blue suit, black stockings, and high leather boots. Her hair was freshly washed and fell in curls about her shoulders. Her makeup was subtle and tasteful. On the surface, there was not a hint of the torment of the past few days. Martin felt slightly uncomfortable in his casual clothing, but what could he do? For now, he had nothing else.

  They took their seats and ordered something to drink. Martin decided on a beer. Liv chose juice.

  “Sweden has very tough laws about drinking and driving,” she explained. “That’s why I never drink alcohol when I take the car.”

  Liv was rearranging her silverware and then took the napkin and folded it several times. She seemed nervous.

  Martin gazed at her intently. “How are you doing, Liv?”

  She stared at the table. Her hand reached for the napkin again. The corner of her mouth twitched. Finally, she looked up and said: “Not well, to be honest. I’m a total mess.”

  Martin noticed her eyes beginning to mist. “I can understand that,” he said. “It’s a lot to deal with all at once. How did things go with the kids?”

  “I haven’t told them a thing. They were happy to see me back home again. I … I told them their father was away on an urgent business trip. That’s a common occurrence. But it was … it has been very hard for me to keep up the facade. They asked me a number of times if everything was all right.”

  “Liv, I’m very glad to be here with you, and I think it’s wonderful that we’ve finally had a chance to meet under more pleasant outward circumstances. But if you’d rather be alone or at home, I completely understand. In no way should you feel obligated. We can leave right now.”

  Liv reached for Martin’s hand and held it tight.

  “No, Martin, please—no! I was glad to get together with you. I need to speak with you.”

  She gazed at him with her big, blue eyes. She kept holding his hand, even grasping it. Martin placed his other hand on top of hers and loosened her grip. He cradled her hand in both of his.

  “Liv, please relax! I’m happy to stay here with you. Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

  Liv eased her grip. “Thank you, Martin. I wanted … it’s hard to know where to begin. You know that my friend picked me up yesterday.”

  Martin nodded.

  “Of course, she wanted to know what happened. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. I have so many questions myself. I have no idea … so I said that I had an accident with the Jeep. I just couldn’t talk about all that. Can you understand that?”

  Martin nodded once more.

  “That’s why I wanted to meet with you today. I have to talk to someone, and you’re the only one who … the only one I don’t have to explain everything to from the beginning. You were there for most of it.”

  “Yes, I think it will do us both good to talk about it. I haven’t been able to simply file it away, either.” He thought of his dream.

  Liv was about to go on when the waiter came with the drinks. He asked if they were ready to order, but they hadn’t yet looked at the menu. Martin had been given a menu in English but decided to go with Liv’s suggestions. They chose the smoked char for the appetizer and the roast venison with autumn chanterelles for the main course. Martin ordered a glass of red wine. Liv stayed with juice. The waiter happily collected the menus and went his way.

  Liv turned back to Martin. “Martin, tell me honestly. My husband is dead, isn’t he?”

  What was
he supposed to say? The matter was clear, but why did he need to tell her? He decided to be open about it, anyway.

  “I’m afraid there’s not much hope. You saw yourself how he lay there in the cabin, bound hand and foot and unconscious. And Lars told the policeman that both men were in the cabin just before the explosion. I can’t think of any reason why Lars would have freed them and then lied to the police. I’m sorry, Liv.”

  Martin watched her as she took it all in. Liv glanced at the table. Then her blue eyes settled on him once more. She didn’t seem at all surprised by his answer.

  “Thank you, Martin. But our marriage had already turned sour for quite some time. We had a whole string of differences, mostly about our businesses. Still, that he would resort to these measures ... that never even occurred to me. After the kidnapping, there’s no way I would ever want to live with him again. Maybe it’s better this way, although it will still be a shock to the children. Not that he was the best father in the world, but they were obviously attached to him.”

  “What I don’t understand,” said Martin, “is how the explosion happened to begin with. Was it an accident? Or was it planned?”

  “I think it was planned,” Liv responded. “And that makes everything even worse. He wanted to kill us.”

  “You mean your husband caused the explosion? But where did he get the materials for that?”

  “You know that we own a construction company. Sometimes we need to use explosives. I’ll have someone take stock tomorrow to see if anything is missing.”

  Martin swallowed hard. This was adding a whole new dimension to the kidnapping.