by Karin Nordin
‘But you didn’t sell it for cash. You sold it for stocks.’
‘Yes! Because I knew that the Lindqvists would sell Norrmalm and when they did their stocks would be worth more than any cash payout they could offer.’
‘It could have been years until they sold the company.’
‘I knew it wouldn’t be. I knew that the younger Lindqvists didn’t want anything to do with running the company. I knew that as soon as Roland was old enough to retire, they would sell. I just had to hold on until then.’
‘How could you know that?’
Sara rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, come on, Kjeld. This is Varsund. Everybody knows everything. It was no secret that David only worked there to maintain the image that it was still a family business. And you don’t have to look far on the internet to see that his sister is a tabloid drama queen. Someone like that wasn’t likely to rush in at the last minute and decide to take a commanding role. Besides, David told me he planned to sell it. That was part of our agreement. He needed Dad’s land to boost production and raise interest. He knew that opening a new dig site and proving that there was still a rich amount of ore in the area was essential to getting a good offer.’
Stenar sat down on a milk crate and shook his head. ‘Peter would never sell.’
‘Is that why you killed Peter Lindqvist?’ Kjeld asked his sister.
Sara blinked. ‘What?’
‘To get him out of the way so Roland would inherit his share and David could sell the company?’
‘No!’
‘Did you kill Peter Lindqvist?’ A quiet rage began to build up inside of him. Kjeld could feel it trilling through his body. Because as much as he’d tried to ignore it, the truth was that Peter Lindqvist wasn’t just some old friend of his father’s. Peter Lindqvist was his father. A father whom Kjeld would never get to know, never get to meet, never get to ask the ultimate question – why? ‘Did you?’
The snowfall must have increased because the plastic flap the forensic team had placed over the hole in the barn’s roof had blown away and thick white flakes began to fall through. Sara wrapped her arms around her chest and bit her lip, trying to avoid the confrontation in the room.
It was Stenar who eventually cut through the heavy air between them.
‘It wasn’t her fault. It was an accident.’
‘Dad. Don’t,’ Sara pleaded.
‘I just wanted to protect you both.’ Stenar pulled off one of his gloves and scratched the side of his face. ‘I couldn’t let anything happen to either of you.’
Kjeld’s brows knitted together at the centre of his forehead. ‘What did you do, Dad?’
‘Nothing,’ Sara interrupted. ‘He didn’t do anything, Kjeld. Don’t confuse him.’
‘I’m not confused.’ Stenar slapped the glove on his knee. ‘I’m not confused! Stop treating me like I don’t know what happened!’
The ravens rustled in the rookery.
Kjeld crouched down in front of Stenar. ‘What happened, Dad? Tell me.’
Stenar heaved a sigh and coughed into his gloveless hand. ‘It’s all my fault. I’m the one to blame.’
Chapter 58
Fem år sedan | Five years ago
Stenar peered through the frost-covered barn window. He could see the ravens flapping their wings in the corner. They were agitated. The rookery was awash with frenzied prruk-prruk-prruks, but Stenar strained to hear the voices.
When the two figures came into view, dimly illuminated by the yellow light of the hanging industrial lamps, Stenar narrowed his eyes. His vision was good. It was just about the only part of him that hadn’t gone bad in the last few years. Still, he found it difficult to believe his eyes. And in that brief moment of silence before the taller figure released a hearty, mocking laugh, Stenar thought he might have been imagining it all. But there was no disguising that laugh. He used to hear it on an almost daily basis during practice patrols in Lapland. Just as there was no disguising the frustrated voice of his daughter who, despite becoming a responsible adult and mother, still had a nagging whine in her tone when she didn’t get her way.
‘Is that what you think?’ Peter chuckled. Despite his age he had a commanding presence. Tall and slender just as he’d always been. Still sporting that bright red hair, although it had thinned out considerably over the years.
‘It’s what I know,’ Sara replied. Hands on her heavy hips which, three years later, still hadn’t lost the weight she’d gained from being pregnant with her daughter.
Peter shook his head like he was talking to a child. ‘You don’t know anything.’
‘I know you’re my real father. I know you tried to take me back when I was little. Well, I need you now.’
‘You need my money, you mean.’ Peter didn’t hide his discontent.
‘You owe it to me.’
‘I don’t owe you anything. You’re not my daughter.’
‘Yes, I am. And all I’m asking for is a little help. Help for my family. For your grandchildren.’
‘I don’t know where you got this ridiculous notion and I hate to disappoint you because you really do seem to believe this nonsense, but I am not your father.’
‘You are. I know you are. I overheard you when I was a child. You came to the house and tried to take me back.’
Peter paused, narrowing his eyes. The flickering yellow lamplight cast a dark shadow across his face. Stenar’s breath fogged up the window and he wiped it clean with his sleeve.
‘Then you heard incorrectly. I didn’t visit your father to take back my daughter,’ Peter said defiantly. ‘I went to your father to take back my son.’
Sara’s eyes widened, like two saucers just before they hit the floor and broke into a hundred pieces.
‘I’m sorry, but I’m not obligated to you. There was a time when I might have been persuaded to help, but Stenar chose to turn me away. I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time calling me out here.’
‘But that can’t be true.’ Sara’s voice cracked, grief-stricken.
‘I don’t know what to tell you. I almost had a daughter once, but she died with my wife. I do, however, have a son. Kjeld.’ Peter tried to offer an apologetic glance, but it was standoffish and grim. When Sara didn’t immediately reply he turned and made his way to the door, glancing back just long enough to offer what he probably imagined sounded like a courteous end to the conversation. It wasn’t. ‘I hope you’re able to turn things around for yourself and your family. I really do.’
Stenar ached for his daughter. He wanted to rush in there, hold her in his arms, and apologise for keeping secrets. But he didn’t have the knees for running and he didn’t have the strength to face his old friend. He would wait until he was gone.
Then it happened.
Sara grabbed a shovel that was propped up against the rookery’s chicken-wire mesh and, without thinking, slammed it against Peter’s back.
The ravens screeched.
Peter tumbled hard against the barn wall, head slamming into a long rusty nail that protruded from the wooden planks. His head stuck, pierced by the sharp end of the nail. His eyes widened in shock. A rasping gasp of air expelled unconsciously from his lungs and then the weight of his body pulled him off the nail to the floor. He hit the dirt in a heavy clump, like a laundry basket of wet washing. His fingers twitched once and then he didn’t move again.
The silence that followed was deafening. The ravens sat stringent on their perches, gazing on the scene in a kind of solemn bereavement. After a while, the sound of sobbing broke the stillness. At first Stenar thought it was Sara, weeping for what she’d done in a moment of uncontrollable rashness. Then he realised that he was the one who was sobbing. And the ravens were mourning for him.
Chapter 59
Nutid | Present Day
Kjeld was at a loss for words. When he opened his mouth to say something, nothing came out. Not even air. He couldn’t focus his thoughts. Normally he was quick to respond. A detective’s instinct for survival, preservation of
life, kept him on his toes. But he didn’t feel that now. He felt like he was in another person’s body, powerless to control. He was furious and he was heartbroken, but nothing he could say would change any of that. Instead he found himself staring at a point on the wall across from him where the wood had begun to rot and warp from lack of care, letting in a sliver of grey light from outside. He hadn’t even noticed that Esme had made her way to the barn and was standing in the doorway, equally shocked after catching the tail end of Sara’s confession.
‘Dad helped me bury him. I didn’t think anyone would find him here.’ Sara’s voice trembled.
‘And Peter’s car?’ Esme asked.
‘I hid it behind great-grandfather’s old hunting cabin. Tossed the licence plates in the marsh.’ Sara took a heavy breath before turning back to Kjeld, pleading. ‘What else could we have done?’
‘You could have gone to the police,’ Kjeld said.
‘What about my family? Who would take care of them if I went to prison? Tom? He can barely take care of himself. And Dad? Dad can’t go to prison.’
‘It was an accident, Sara.’ Kjeld’s irritation overcame his sorrow. He crossed his arms over his chest, unconscious of the cold despite his lack of winter coat. ‘If you’d told the truth then you may not have had to serve any time. Either of you.’
‘It was my fault,’ Stenar said between tears. ‘I never should have kept that secret. Your mother never wanted to hide it from you, Kjeld. I’m so sorry. I should have been honest with you kids when you were old enough to know. I was selfish. And now Eiji is dead and Peter is dead and for what? A son who hates me and a daughter who’s going to prison?’
Stenar sucked in deep breaths. His chest heaved.
Sara hurried to his side and placed a comforting arm around his shoulders. ‘Don’t worry about any of that, Dad. It’s going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.’
She looked up at Kjeld, uncertain. ‘Isn’t it?’
Kjeld pursed his lips. Their options were limited at this point and Kjeld found himself in a dangerous predicament. Not dangerous to his life, perhaps, but for lack of a less hallowed phrase, dangerous to his soul. It was the situation with Nils on the docks all over again. Having to make a choice about his friend – partner, companion, mentor – who while clearly in the wrong still meant something to Kjeld. Only now his friend was replaced by his sister. She’d broken the law. She’d killed a man. But it was an accident. And what good would turning her in do now? Whose pain would her incarceration ease? Roland’s? Kjeld’s?
He caught Esme’s gaze, saw her staunch concern, and knew there was only one way to proceed. ‘You have to tell the truth, Sara.’
‘I can’t, Kjeld. I have a family to take care of. They need me!’
‘Stop,’ Stenar rasped. ‘Tell them I did it. I don’t have anything left anymore. I just want to protect you both. You’re all I have.’
The cold air made his nose run and Kjeld sniffed. He tried to block out his father’s weeping, but it echoed in the rafters. The ravens joined in shortly after with sorrowful caws.
‘We can’t keep this a secret. I won’t. I’m done with not telling the truth. Where has that ever gotten any of us?’ Kjeld pulled at his earlobe. ‘If you don’t tell Gunnar then I will.’
Sara stood up. ‘I could leave.’
She looked over at Esme, her face half-pleading, as though convincing her might somehow convince Kjeld. ‘Let me go. If you promise to watch out for Dad then I’ll take my kids and leave Varsund. You can tell Gunnar what you want, but I won’t come back.’
Esme remained silent and Kjeld knew she was letting him choose. This wasn’t like the situation with the Kattegat Killer. It couldn’t be easily separated into black or white, right or wrong. This was his family. And it had been an accident.
‘You know I can’t do that, Sara. You’re not thinking rationally. The only thing you did wrong was cover up a crime. An accidental crime. And there’s hardly any evidence against you. Even if you do get a prison sentence, it won’t be for long. A few years is nothing. Your children will still be young when you get out.’
Sara laughed. It was a cruel sound. Derisive. Disbelieving. ‘You would think a few years away from your children doesn’t matter, wouldn’t you? You didn’t even fight to keep your own daughter.’
‘That’s different.’
‘Is it? You’re an embarrassment, Kjeld. You always have been. And you’re a shit excuse for a father. You’re selfish. Just like the Lindqvists. You’ve had all the opportunities in the world and you still don’t change. You’re a disappointment to everyone around you,’ Sara scorned. Her face was red as she approached him. Each fervid step reinforcing her argument. ‘I refuse to be like you. I refuse to abandon my children. I’ll not let them be raised by another idiot man who puts himself above his family.’
Stenar stood up on shaky legs and followed Sara to the centre of the barn where Kjeld held his position between them and the exit. A gust of wind rushed through the hole in the roof, sending a flurry of golf-ball-sized snowflakes into their faces and blew open the rookery door.
‘Come on, Sara,’ Kjeld said. ‘It’s over. We’ll go together. All of us. We’ll tell them everything. About the contract, the property, Peter. It’s the best thing for everyone.’
‘The best thing for you, you mean,’ Sara snapped. ‘Then you can go back to Gothenburg and never have anything to do with us. You’ll be absolved of your responsibility to your messed-up family. Then you truly can be the lone wolf you’ve always imagined yourself to be.’
‘That’s not fair. You know that’s not fair.’ Kjeld reached into his pocket and took out his phone.
Sara jumped forward and grabbed at Kjeld’s hand. She had a wildness in her eyes that Kjeld hadn’t seen since they were younger. That same angry look she used to give him when he beat her in foot races across the yard or when their mother insisted that she take him with her when she was spending time with her friends. A look that he recognised now as jealousy. Pure and unadulterated.
Kjeld tugged his hand away from her. Sara was robust. She’d inherited that stocky toughness from their father. From Stenar. But Kjeld had the advantage of height and physical strength. Lungs notwithstanding.
The barn filled with the frantic tune of ill-tempered crows. The older birds uttered grating kraas while the younger ones wailed high-pitched prruks.
From behind, Stenar reached forward to place a hand on Sara’s elbow. The action was meant to be calming, but Sara reacted like a caged animal. She flung her arm backward and hit Stenar in the face just below the eye. Stenar staggered backward.
And then came the attack.
Stenar had forgotten to close the chicken-wire door on the rookery. The ravens whooshed out of the rookery in a single black mass of feathers and claws. They swarmed around Sara’s head. Pecking. Flapping. Scratching. She waved her arms above her head to fend them off, but that only antagonised them further.
Stenar yelled, but his voice was drowned out beneath the clamour of caws and the beating of wings.
Kjeld raised his arms to protect against the assault, moving around the frenzy of feathers to get to his father. Esme hurried inside as well, helping Stenar catch his balance. Once the two of them were safely outside, Kjeld turned back to help his sister, but was seized by a wave of panic. The ravens covered Sara like a teeming mob, screeching and squawking. Looking at her all he could see was himself as a boy. And before he knew it, he was outside the barn shutting the door on the screams of his sister, which had joined the ravens’ caws like a discordant choir.
Chapter 60
Kjeld stood in front of the house beside the broken picket fence and watched as Gunnar’s police car pulled out onto the road, tyres crunching over snow and gravel as it disappeared between the naked trees with his sister in the back seat.
Esme, bundled up in a puffy winter jacket and scarf, crossed her arms over her chest. A gust of wind blew her fringe into her face and she swept it to
the side, tucking the longer strands behind her ear. When she finally spoke her breath froze in the air like little clouds. It made Kjeld crave a cigarette.
‘There’s one thing I still don’t understand. Why would Sara dig up the body?’ she asked, tilting her gaze towards his face.
‘I don’t think she did.’
‘Then who?’
That was something Kjeld hadn’t had time to ask his sister, but he suspected that even if he had she would have avoided answering the question. He knew his sister well enough to know that she would protect the people close to her no matter what. And their father aside there was only one other family member she would need to protect. The person who would be in charge of caring for her children if she went to prison.
‘I don’t know, but I have the suspicion that might have been her husband’s doing. Maybe he found out and was afraid I would find it. I can’t imagine why he would do that, but I know I didn’t chase my sister out into the woods.’ Kjeld reached into his back pocket and removed his cigarette pack. Only one left.
‘But how could you have possibly found the body if no one had started digging it up in the first place?’
‘He must have known I wouldn’t be satisfied until I’d done a better job at looking into Dad’s story than Gunnar. Maybe he was afraid that Dad might slip up and say something and that I’d end up digging up the entire barn myself just to prove him wrong.’ Kjeld used his hand to block the wind while he lit the cigarette. He took a deep drag and exhaled.
‘At least I’m not the only one who thinks you’re a stubborn mule.’ Esme shook her head. She tried to keep a straight face, but Kjeld could see the beginnings of a grin tugging at the corner of her lips.
‘You’re definitely not the only one.’