Dead of Winter

50

Peter carefully manoeuvres the car back along the narrow logging track. Laura doesn’t want to distract him.

‘Haven’t you asked Tomas about that night before?’ she says eventually.

‘No. I never wanted to. Or dared to. What if he’d said he was innocent, that Sandberg had pressured him into confessing? You and I accused him . . .’

Peter doesn’t go on. There’s no need.

‘Do you think he’s lying?’

‘No. He seemed very upset when he saw your . . . your . . .’

‘Injuries,’ Laura supplies, realising she doesn’t have a problem talking about her scar. ‘I don’t think he was lying either.’

They fall silent. The car tilts slightly on the slippery surface, but Peter skilfully keeps it on the track.

‘I’ll come back up tomorrow,’ he says after a while. ‘Tomas just needs time to get himself together.’

‘Did he start the fires at his father’s place and at Källegården?’

‘Why would he do that?’

‘Because he’s a pyromaniac. Because he hates both his father and Ulf Jensen.’

‘Tomas hasn’t been in trouble for years. He’s behaved himself, followed his treatment plans.’

‘You don’t have to protect him, Peter. He admitted that he was the one who started the fire at the dance hall. You – or we – didn’t accuse him of something he hadn’t done.’

Peter doesn’t answer; he keeps his eyes fixed on the route ahead. The headlights light up the snow-covered ground on either side of the track, but in among the trees it is pitch-black. Way down below them, the ice on the lake glimmers. Laura decides to change the subject.

‘Did Tomas mention Milla when he was interviewed by the police?’

‘No. Sandberg asked him on several different occasions whether anyone else was involved – Tomas denied it every time.’

‘And Milla? What did she say?’

Peter glances at her for a second.

‘She and Jack told the same story. They’d gone to Milla’s cabin so that she could put a dressing on his head injury. They heard noises and went back to the dance hall, but it was already in flames. The fire service arrived shortly afterwards.’

‘And then?’

‘She left only a couple of days later. Hedda had found her a new place somewhere – I can’t remember where.’

‘Värmland. She was furious. Do you know what became of her?’

Peter shakes his head. ‘I can run a database search tomorrow.’

‘Good idea. Do you think Milla was involved in the fire? Was she the one Tomas meant?’

‘I’ve no idea. Tomas lives in a fantasy world to a certain extent. He’s on some pretty strong medication. On the other hand . . .’

He falls silent as he negotiates a bank of snow to access the wider track.

‘We know how manipulative Milla could be. She talked me and Tomas into doing those break-ins. She could wind people around her little finger.’

Including me, Laura thinks, but she doesn’t say anything.

‘I’m sure she could have persuaded Tomas to set fire to the dance hall if she’d wanted to,’ Peter goes on. ‘But why would she do that?’

‘Iben knew about the break-ins, and Milla got the idea that Iben had told Hedda, and that was why she was being moved to Värmland. She was very angry with Iben.’

‘Fuck.’ Peter’s grip tightens on the wheel.

‘Milla, Iben and Jack were together just before the fire broke out. According to Jack’s and Milla’s statements, Iben was supposed to follow them to Milla’s cabin. If Milla had wanted revenge on Iben, that means she must have met Tomas on her way out of the dance hall, but that isn’t mentioned in any of their statements. Both Jack and Milla said they didn’t see anyone on their way to the cabin.’

‘She could have spoken to Tomas earlier.’

‘True, but don’t forget that Tomas and Iben had known each other since they were little. She even told him what Ulf was doing to her. Tomas, not you or anyone else. That’s how close they were.’

The last sentence is like a knife in Laura’s heart.

‘Tomas adored Iben,’ Peter continues. ‘He would never have agreed to do anything that would harm her. No chance.’

‘And yet he did,’ Laura says quietly.

Peter doesn’t reply, but his silence implies agreement.

‘It was me, by the way,’ he says after a moment. ‘I was the one who told Hedda. I felt as if everything was spiralling out of control, so I called Hedda and explained what had been going on.’

‘Did you tell her I was mixed up in it?’

‘No, and she didn’t ask – but I think she worked it out. She certainly moved fast to get Milla relocated.’

They reach the village, pass the church, the sign for the Iben Jensen School.

‘When did they rename the school?’

‘A few years ago, when Ulf stepped down from his post as chair of the council. It was a kind of leaving present.’

‘Did nobody object? Nobody think it was strange to name a school after a dead girl?’

‘Not as far as I know. If anyone felt like that, I guess they kept their opinions to themselves.’

‘Because people are scared of Ulf?’

‘Not scared exactly.’ Peter turns onto Gärdsnäsvägen. ‘Ulf has coached generations of kids in athletics. Led them in competitions, on training camps and trips. Most of them are grown up now, and they feel a strong loyalty to Ulf.’

Laura thinks about the reception she got in the ironmonger’s and the ICA store – and about the scratches on her car. But something is still bothering her about Tomas. How unfamiliar he looked.

‘Do you think we’d recognise her?’

‘Who?’

‘Milla. Do you think we’d recognise her if she showed up?’

‘I’ve no idea. People change a lot from their teenage years to adulthood.’

‘Even if it’s someone you knew really well?’

He frowns. ‘Are we talking about Milla, or somebody else?’

Laura’s cheeks flush red. ‘Jack. I’ve got a feeling he’s back – I don’t really know why.’

‘Have you kept in touch?’

Laura shakes her head, registering a sharpness in Peter’s tone of voice. ‘The last trace of him is a postcard to Hedda, sent from Berlin in 1989.’

Peter doesn’t say another word until they reach Hedda’s house. He gets out of the car and walks her to the door.

‘By the way, would you like to have dinner with me and Elsa tomorrow evening? She wanted me to ask you,’ he adds hastily.

‘That would be lovely,’ Laura says. ‘But only because Elsa wants me to come.’

It is Peter’s turn to blush. The tension from a little while ago is gone, replaced by something else. Something warm and soft that Laura likes.

They are standing opposite each other on the porch. Without really knowing why, she leans forward and kisses him on the cheek. She stays where she is while he jumps in the car. Just as he’s about to drive off, he lowers the side window.

‘I think you might be right.’

‘Sorry?’

‘I met an old classmate from the police academy on a course a couple of years ago. He’d put on twenty kilos, lost half his hair and was wearing glasses. We were really good friends at one point, but I hadn’t a clue who he was. It was pretty embarrassing when we shook hands. And you didn’t recognise me in church the other day, even though I’ve done nothing but age thirty years. So if Milla or anyone else turned up with a different name and appearance, there’s a strong possibility that neither you nor I would recognise them.’