The Drowning

21

A week later, the food ran out. He’d eaten all the bread a couple of days earlier, and then resorted to cornflakes out of the big package. Without milk. Both the milk and the juice were gone, but there was water, and he had pushed a chair over to the sink so he could drink straight from the tap.

But now there was nothing more to eat. There hadn’t been much in the fridge to start with, and in the pantry he found only tinned goods, which he couldn’t open. He’d thought of going out to shop for groceries himself. He knew where Mamma kept her money, in the purse that was always in the front hall. But he couldn’t open the door. It was impossible for him to turn the lock, no matter how hard he tried. Otherwise Mamma would have been even prouder of him. He could have shown her that not only could he make his own sandwiches, but he could also do the shopping all by himself while she slept.

The past few days he’d started to wonder if she might be sick. But he knew that when a person was sick, they got a fever and felt hot. Mamma was very cold. And she smelled strange. He had to hold his nose at night when he crept into bed to sleep close to her. There was also something sticky about her. He didn’t know what it was, but if she’d got sticky, then she must have been out of bed when he wasn’t watching. Maybe she would wake up soon.

He spent every day playing by himself. He would sit in his room with his toys spread out around him. He also knew how to turn on the TV by touching the big button. Sometimes a children’s programme would be on, and it was fun to watch them after he’d been playing alone all day.

But Mamma would probably be angry when she saw how dirty things were in the flat. He needed to clean up. But he was so hungry. So incredibly hungry.

A few times he’d glanced at the telephone and even picked up the receiver, listening to the signal say ‘beep, beep, beep’. But who should he call? He didn’t know anyone’s number. And nobody ever rang the flat.

And Mamma would be waking up soon. She would get out of bed and take a bath and make the bad smell go away, the smell that made him feel sick. Then she would smell like Mamma again.

His stomach was screaming with hunger as he crawled into bed and moved close to her. He didn’t like the smell in his nose, but he always slept next to Mamma. Otherwise he couldn’t fall asleep.

He pulled the covers over them. Outside the window, darkness fell.

Gösta got up as soon as he heard Patrik and Paula come in. An oppressive mood had settled over the police station. Everyone was feeling frustrated. They needed some sort of concrete lead in order to move forward with the investigation.

‘Let’s meet in the kitchen in five minutes,’ said Patrik, and then he disappeared into his office.

Gösta went into the kitchen and sat down in his favourite place next to the window. Five minutes later the others showed up, one after the other. Patrik was the last to arrive. He took up position in front of the counter, leaning his back against it with his arms crossed.

‘As you all know, Christian Thydell was found dead this morning. At the present time, we can’t say whether his death was murder or suicide. We’ll have to wait for the results from the post-mortem. I’ve talked to Torbjörn, and unfortunately he had very little to add. But based on the preliminary examination, there doesn’t seem to be any sign of a struggle at the site.’

Martin raised his hand. ‘What about footprints? Anything to indicate that Christian wasn’t alone when he died? If there was snow on the steps, maybe they could be lifted for analysis.’

‘I asked Torbjörn about that,’ said Patrik. ‘But it would be impossible to say when any shoe prints were actually made, and besides, all of the snow had blown off the steps. But the techs did manage to lift a number of fingerprints, mostly from the railing, and they’ll be carefully analysed, of course. It’ll be a few days before we have a report.’ He turned around to fill a glass with water from the tap and took a few sips. ‘Any new developments from knocking on doors?’

‘No,’ said Martin. ‘We’ve pretty much knocked on every door in the lower part of town. But no one seems to have seen anything.’

‘Okay. We need to go over to Christian’s house and carry out a proper search. See if we can find anything that shows he might have met the murderer there first.’

‘Murderer?’ said Gösta. ‘So you think it was murder and not suicide?’

‘I don’t know what I think at the moment,’ replied Patrik, wearily rubbing his forehead. ‘But I suggest that we assume Christian was also murdered, until we find out more.’ He turned to Mellberg. ‘What do you think, Bertil?’

It was always wise at least to pretend to involve the boss.

‘I agree,’ said Mellberg.

‘We’re also going to have to wrestle with the press. As soon as they get wind of what happened, there’s going to be huge interest from the media. I recommend that nobody talk to any reporters; just refer them all to me.’

‘On that point I have to object,’ said Mellberg. ‘As the police chief here, I should be the one to handle such an important task as liaison with the media.’

Patrik weighed his options. It would be a nightmare to give Mellberg free rein to talk with journalists. On the other hand, it might take too much energy to try to dissuade him.

‘Okay, let’s say that you’ll be the one to keep in contact with the media. But if I might offer a word of advice, it would be best if we say as little as possible, under the circumstances.’

‘Don’t worry. Considering my extensive experience, I’ll be able to twist them around my little finger,’ said Mellberg, leaning back in his chair.

‘Paula and I have been out to Trollhättan, as all of you probably already know.’

‘Did you find out anything?’ asked Annika eagerly.

‘I’m not sure yet. But I think that we’re on the right track, so we’ll keep digging.’ Patrik took another sip of water. It was time to tell his colleagues what they’d discovered and what he was having such a hard time digesting.

‘As Annika found out, Christian was orphaned at a very young age. He lived alone with his mother, Anita Thydell. There’s no record of who his father was. According to information from the social welfare office, the boy and his mother were terribly isolated, and at times Anita had difficulty caring for Christian because of a mental illness she suffered from, combined with drug abuse. The authorities kept a watchful eye on Anita and her son after receiving several calls from the neighbours. But apparently the only home visits were made during the periods when Anita had the situation more or less under control. At least that was the explanation we were given for why no one intervened. And the fact that “times were different” back then,’ Patrik added without concealing the sarcasm in his voice.

‘One day when Christian was three years old, another tenant reported to the welfare office that he’d noticed a stench coming from Anita’s flat. The authorities obtained a master key, and when they went in they discovered Christian alone with his dead mother. Presumably she’d been dead about a week, and Christian had survived by eating whatever he could find in the kitchen, and drinking water from the tap. But the food had apparently run out after a few days, because when the police and medics arrived, the boy was starving and weak. They found him huddled close to his mother’s body, only semi-conscious.’

‘Good Lord,’ said Annika, and her eyes filled with tears. Gösta was also blinking away tears, and Martin’s face had turned green. He looked like he was fighting hard not to be sick.

‘Unfortunately, Christian’s troubles didn’t end there. He was placed very quickly with a foster family, a couple by the name of Lissander. Paula and I paid them a visit today.’

‘Christian couldn’t have had an easy childhood with them,’ said Paula quietly. ‘To be honest, I got the impression that something wasn’t quite right with Mrs Lissander.’

Gösta felt something flash through his mind. Lissander. Where had he heard that name before? He somehow associated it with Ernst Lundgren, their former colleague who had been fired from the police force. Gösta tried to think what the connection could be. He considered telling everyone that the name sounded familiar, but then decided to wait until the explanation came to him on its own.

Patrik went on: ‘The Lissanders say that they’ve had no contact with Christian since he turned eighteen. That was when he apparently broke off the relationship with them and left.’

‘Do you think they’re telling the truth?’ asked Annika.

Patrik looked at Paula, who nodded.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Unless they’re very good liars.’

‘And they didn’t know of any woman who might bear some sort of grudge against Christian?’ Gösta asked.

‘They said they didn’t. But on that point I’m not sure they were being completely truthful.’

‘Did he have any brothers or sisters?’

‘They didn’t mention any, but maybe you could find out, Annika. That ought to be easy enough to research. I’ll give you all the names and information you need. Could you work on it right away?’

‘I can do it now, if you like,’ said Annika. ‘It won’t take long.’

‘Okay, great. There’s a yellow Post-it note with everything you need on the folder that’s lying on my desk.’

‘I’ll be back,’ said Annika, getting to her feet.

‘What about having a chat with Kenneth? Now that Christian is dead, he might decide to start talking,’ said Martin.

‘Good idea. So that means we have the following items on our to-do list: talk with Kenneth, and conduct a thorough search of Christian’s house. We also need to find out all the details of Christian’s life before he came to Fjällbacka. Gösta and Martin, I’d like you to talk with Kenneth, okay?’ They both nodded, and Patrik then turned to Paula. ‘You and I will drive over to Christian’s house. If we find anything of interest, we’ll call in the tech team.’

‘That sounds good,’ she said.

‘Mellberg, you’ll stay here at the station to answer any questions from the media,’ Patrik went on. ‘And Annika will keep digging into Christian’s past. At the moment we have a few facts to go on, at least.’

‘More than you thought,’ said Annika, appearing in the doorway.

‘Did you find out anything?’ asked Patrik.

‘Yes, I did,’ she said, giving her colleagues an excited look. ‘The Lissanders had a daughter two years after they took in Christian as a foster child. So he has a sister. Alice Lissander.’

‘Louise?’ Erik called, standing in the front hall. Could he be so lucky that she wasn’t at home? In that case, he wouldn’t have to think up some excuse to get her to leave for a while. Because he needed to pack his suitcase. He felt as if he had a fever, as if his whole body was screaming at him to get out of town.

He’d taken care of all the practical matters. He’d made a reservation under his own name for a plane departing tomorrow. He hadn’t bothered to set up a false identity. That would take far too much time, and to be honest, he really had no idea how to go about it. But there was no reason to believe that anyone would try to stop him from leaving. And after he reached his destination, it would be too late.

Erik hesitated outside the upstairs rooms belonging to his daughters. He wished he could go in and have a look around, as his way of saying goodbye. At the same time, he couldn’t get himself to do it. It was easier just to focus only on what he needed to get done.

He put the big suitcase on top of the bed. It was always stored downstairs in the basement, so by the time Louise noticed it was missing, he would be far away. He planned to leave tonight. What he’d learned from talking to Kenneth had shaken him badly, and he didn’t want to stay here even a minute longer. He’d write a note to Louise saying that he had to leave on an urgent business trip. Then he’d drive to Landvetter airport in Göteborg and get a room at a nearby hotel. Tomorrow afternoon he’d be sitting in a plane, heading for southern climes. Unreachable.

Erik tossed one item of clothing after another into the suitcase. He couldn’t take much. If the chest of drawers and wardrobe were noticeably empty when Louise came home, she’d know what he was up to. But he took as much as he could. Later he could buy new clothes. Money was not going to be a problem.

While he packed, he was on the alert for Louise’s arrival, not wanting her to surprise him. If she came home now, he’d have to shove the suitcase under the bed and pretend to be packing the small carry-on bag that he kept in the bedroom. That was the one he always took on business trips.

For a moment he paused. The memory that had surfaced now refused to sink back into oblivion. He couldn’t say that it particularly upset him. Everybody made mistakes; that was only human. But he was fascinated by the fact that someone could be driven by such a single-minded purpose. After all, it had happened so long ago.

Then he shook himself. It would do no good to brood over things. The day after tomorrow he would be safe.

The ducks came rushing towards him. By now they were old friends. He always stopped here, bringing a sack of stale bread. Now they flocked around his feet, eager for what he had to offer.

Ragnar thought about the conversation with the two police officers, and about Christian. He should have done more. He should have known, even back then. All his life he had been little more than a bystander, weak and silent, watching without intervening. Her bystander. That’s how it had been between them from the very beginning. Neither of them had been able to break the pattern they’d created.

Iréne had always been preoccupied with her own beauty. She had loved the good things in life: parties, drinks, and men who admired her. He knew all about them. Just because he’d hidden behind his inadequacies didn’t mean that he was unaware of the affairs she’d had with other men.

And that poor boy had never had a chance. Christian could never measure up, never give her what she wanted. The boy had probably thought that Iréne loved Alice, but he was wrong. Iréne was incapable of loving anyone. She had merely seen her own reflection in her daughter’s beauty. Ragnar wished that he had spoken to the boy before they chased him away like a dog. He wasn’t sure what really happened, or what was the truth. He wasn’t like Iréne, who had accused and condemned him all in one breath.

Doubt had been gnawing at Ragnar, and it still was. But over the years the memories had faded. They had gone on living their lives. He stayed in the background while Iréne continued to believe that she was still beautiful. No one had dared tell her that her looks were gone, so she kept on behaving as if she could again be the life of the party at any moment. The woman who was both beautiful and desirable.

But it had to end. At that moment Ragnar understood why the police had come, and he realized that he’d made a mistake. A huge, fateful mistake. And now it was time to put things right.

Ragnar took Patrik’s business card out of his pocket. Then he got out his mobile and punched in the number on the card.

‘Seems like we keep driving this same road over and over,’ said Gösta as he accelerated past Munkedal.

‘And we do,’ said Martin. He cast a quizzical look at his colleague, who had been unusually quiet ever since they left Tanumshede. Gösta wasn’t a big talker at the best of times, but right now he seemed more taciturn than ever.

‘Is something wrong?’ Martin asked after a while when he could no longer stand the lack of at least sporadic conversation.

‘What? No, it’s nothing,’ said Gösta.

Martin didn’t press the issue. He knew that it would do no good to try forcing something out of Gösta if he didn’t want to share what was on his mind. He’d reveal whatever it was in his own time.

‘What a bloody awful story. Talk about getting a rough start in life,’ said Martin. He was thinking about his little daughter and what might happen if she was subjected to such a terrible experience. It was true what everyone said about becoming a parent. It made a person a thousand times more sensitive to everything concerning children in difficult circumstances.

‘That poor little boy,’ said Gösta, and all of a sudden he looked less distracted.

‘Don’t you think we should wait to talk to Kenneth until we find out more about the sister, Alice?’

‘I’m sure Annika will double-check and triple-check everything while we’re away from the station. The first thing we need to know is where to find Alice.’

‘Couldn’t we just ask the Lissanders?’ said Martin.

‘Since they never even mentioned her existence when Patrik and Paula were there, I assume that Patrik thinks there’s something fishy about the whole situation. And it won’t hurt to find out as many facts about the family as possible.’

Martin knew that his colleague was right. He felt foolish for even asking the question.

‘Do you think she’s the one behind it all?’

‘I have no idea. It’s too early to speculate about that.’

They drove the rest of the way to the hospital in silence. After parking the car, they went straight to the ward where Kenneth was a patient.

‘We’re back,’ said Gösta as they entered his room.

Kenneth didn’t reply, just looked at them as if he didn’t care who came in.

‘How do you feel? Are your wounds starting to heal?’ asked Gösta, sitting down on the same chair as before.

‘It’s going to take a lot more time for that,’ said Kenneth, moving his bandaged arms. ‘They’re giving me painkillers. So it doesn’t really hurt much.’

‘You heard about Christian?’

Kenneth nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘You don’t seem particularly upset about it,’ said Gösta, without sounding unfriendly.

‘Not everything is visible on the outside.’

Gösta gave him a puzzled look.

‘How’s Sanna?’ asked Kenneth, and for the first time they could see a glint of something in his eyes. Sympathy. He knew what it felt like to lose someone.

‘Not so good,’ said Gösta, shaking his head. ‘We were over there this morning. It’s very sad for the boys, too.’

‘Yes, it is,’ Kenneth agreed, his face clouding over.

Martin was starting to feel superfluous. He was still standing, but now he pulled a chair over to the other side of the bed, across from Gösta. Then he glanced at his colleague, who nodded, encouraging him to ask his own questions.

‘We think that everything that has happened lately is connected to Christian, and so we’ve been delving into his background. One thing we found out is that he had a different last name when he was growing up. Christian Lissander. He also has a stepsister named Alice Lissander. Did you ever hear him talk about any of this?’

Kenneth paused before answering.

‘No. It doesn’t sound familiar.’

Gösta fixed his eyes on the man, looking as if he’d like to climb into Kenneth’s head to see if he was telling the truth or not.

‘I said this before, and I’ll say it again: If you know something that you’re not telling us, you’re putting not only your own life in danger, but Erik’s too. Now that Christian is dead, you must realize how serious this is.’

‘I don’t know anything,’ said Kenneth calmly.

‘If you’re withholding information, we’re going to dig it up sooner or later.’

‘I’m sure you’ll make a very thorough job of it,’ said Kenneth. He looked small and fragile as he lay there with his bandaged arms resting on top of the blue hospital blanket.

Gösta and Martin exchanged glances. They realized that they weren’t going to get any more out of Kenneth, but neither of them believed that he was telling the truth.

Erica closed the book. She’d spent the last few hours curled up in an armchair reading, interrupted only by Maja, who came over once in a while to ask for something. On such occasions Erica was grateful for her daughter’s ability to play by herself.

The novel was even better the second time. It was truly amazing. It wasn’t an uplifting kind of book; instead, it had filled her mind with dark musings. But somehow that didn’t seem unpleasant. It dealt with issues that a person needed to think about, issues that required the reader to take a stand and in that way find out what sort of person he or she was.

In Erica’s opinion, the story was about guilt, about how it could eat up a person from the inside. For the first time she wondered what it was that Christian had wanted to convey through his book, what message he wanted his story to present.

She placed the book on her lap with a feeling that she’d missed something that was actually right in front of her eyes. Something she was too dense or blind to see. She turned to the back of the book to look at the inside flap of the dust jacket. There was a photo of Christian, in black and white. A classic author pose, and he was wearing wire-rimmed glasses. He’d been handsome in a rather reserved way. There was a loneliness evident in his eyes that made it impossible to know whether he was ever really present. He always seemed to be alone, never in the company of anyone else. As if he were inside a bubble. Paradoxically enough, it was this sense of distance that had exerted such an attraction on others. People always wanted to have what they couldn’t get. And that was exactly how it had been with Christian.

Erica hauled herself out of the armchair. She was feeling a bit guilty because she’d been so engrossed in the book that she’d ignored her daughter. With great effort she now managed to lower herself to the floor to sit next to Maja, who was overjoyed that her mother was going to join in her games.

But still hovering in the back of Erica’s mind was the mermaid in the book. She wanted to say something. Christian wanted to say something. Erica was sure about that. She just wished she knew what it was.

Patrik couldn’t resist taking his mobile out of his pocket again to look at the display.

‘Stop that,’ said Paula, laughing. ‘Annika isn’t going to call any sooner just because you keep checking your phone all the time. I promise you’ll hear it when it rings.’

‘I know,’ said Patrik, smiling with embarrassment. ‘I just feel like we’re so close now.’ He went back to pulling out drawers and opening cupboards in the kitchen of the house belonging to Christian and Sanna. It hadn’t taken them long to obtain a warrant to search the premises. The problem was that he didn’t know what they were looking for.

‘It should be easy enough to find out where Alice Lissander lives,’ Paula consoled him. ‘Annika will probably ring any minute to give us the address.’

‘Right,’ said Patrik, looking inside the dishwasher. There was no sign that Christian had received any visitors the day before. Nor had they found any indications of a forced entry or that he might have left the house against his will. ‘But why didn’t the Lissanders mention anything about their daughter?’

‘We’ll find out soon enough. But I think it’s wise for us to make our own enquiries about Alice before we talk with her parents again.’

‘I agree. But they’re going to have answer a lot of questions.’

Patrik and Paula went upstairs. Here, too, everything looked the same as it had on the previous day – except in the children’s room. There the text on the wall, the blood-red words, had been replaced by a swathe of thick black paint.

They stopped in the doorway.

‘Christian must have painted over the words yesterday,’ said Paula.

‘I can understand it. I probably would have done the same thing.’

‘So what do you really think?’ asked Paula, going into the bedroom next door. She put her hands on her hips as she surveyed the room before starting a meticulous search.

‘About what?’ said Patrik as he joined her, going over to the wardrobe and opening the doors.

‘Was Christian murdered? Or did he take his own life?’

‘I know what I said at the meeting back at the station, but I’m not ruling anything out. Christian was an odd person. The few times we talked to him, I had the feeling that things were going on in his head that simply defied comprehension. But apparently there’s no suicide note, at any rate.’

‘People don’t always leave a note. You know that as well as I do.’ Paula carefully pulled out the bureau drawers, putting her hand inside to go through the contents.

‘You’re right, but if we’d found one, we wouldn’t have to speculate about what happened.’ Patrik straightened up, pausing to catch his breath. His heart was pounding, and he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

‘I don’t think there’s anything here that’s worth a closer look,’ said Paula, closing the last drawer. ‘Shall we go?’

Patrik hesitated. He didn’t want to give up, but Paula was right.

‘Let’s go back to the station and wait for Annika to find something. Maybe Gösta and Martin have had better luck with Kenneth.’

‘We can always hope so,’ said Paula, sounding sceptical.

They were just on their way out the door when Patrik’s mobile rang. He yanked it out of his pocket, but he was disappointed to see it wasn’t the station calling. In fact, he didn’t recognize the number.

‘Patrik Hedström, Tanum police,’ he said, hoping to keep the conversation brief so that the line wouldn’t be busy if Annika tried to call. Suddenly he froze.

‘Hello, Ragnar.’ He motioned to Paula, who stopped halfway to the car.

‘Yes? I see. Well, we’ve also found out a few things… Of course. We can discuss that when we meet. We could drive out there now. Should we come to your house? Oh, all right. We’ll find it. Right. See you soon.’

He ended the call and looked at Paula. ‘That was Ragnar Lissander. He says he has something to tell us. And something to show us too.’

All the way back from Uddevalla, the name had kept whirling through his mind. Lissander. Why was it so hard to remember where he’d heard that name before? And his former colleague Ernst Lundgren kept turning up in his thoughts too. Somehow the name was linked to him. Approaching the exit to Fjällbacka, Gösta finally came to a decision. He deliberately turned the wheel to the right and got off the motorway.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Martin. ‘I thought we were heading back to the station.’

‘We just need to make a brief stop at someone’s house first.’

‘At someone’s house? Whose house?’

‘Ernst Lundgren’s.’ Gösta shifted down and turned left.

‘Why are we going to see Ernst?’

Gösta told Martin what he’d been thinking about.

‘But you have no idea where you’ve heard that name before?’

‘If I did, I would have told you,’ snapped Gösta. He suspected that Martin thought his age was making him forgetful.

‘Take it easy,’ said Martin. ‘We’ll go over to Ernst’s house and ask him, to see if he can spark your memory. It’s great that he might actually be able to make a positive contribution for a change.’

‘That would be a new development, wouldn’t it?’ Gösta couldn’t help smiling. Like his colleagues, he didn’t have a very high opinion of Ernst’s competence or his personality. At the same time, he didn’t detest him as wholeheartedly as he knew the others did, with the possible exception of Mellberg. After working with Ernst for so long, Gösta had grown used to him. Nor could he ignore the fact that over the years they had shared a good many laughs together. On the other hand, Ernst certainly had a tendency to make a mess of things. Especially the last time he had been part of the investigative team, before he was fired. But maybe he’d actually be of some help this time.

‘Looks like he’s home, anyway,’ said Martin as they pulled up in front of the house.

‘Yes, it does,’ said Gösta, parking the police vehicle next to Ernst’s car.

Ernst opened the door before they even rang the bell. He must have seen them from the kitchen window.

‘How about that? I wasn’t expecting such important visitors,’ he said, letting his former colleagues come in.

Martin looked around. Unlike Gösta, he’d never been to Ernst’s house before, but he was not impressed. Even though he hadn’t kept his own flat very neat when he was a bachelor himself, it had never approached the chaos he saw here. Dishes were piled high in the sink, clothes were scattered everywhere, and the kitchen table looked like it had never been wiped clean.

‘I haven’t got much to offer,’ said Ernst. ‘But I can always come up with a wee dram.’ He reached for a bottle standing on the counter.

‘I’m driving,’ said Gösta.

‘What about you? Looks like you could use a pick-me-up,’ said Ernst, holding out the bottle towards Martin, but he declined.

‘Okay, okay. I can see you’re a couple of teetotallers.’ He poured a healthy shot for himself and gulped it down.

‘All right. Why are you here?’ He sat down on a chair at the table, and his former colleagues followed suit.

‘I’ve been wondering about something that I think you might know about,’ said Gösta.

‘Aha. So that’s it.’

‘It has to do with a name. It sounds familiar to me, and for some reason I keep associating it with you.’

‘Well, we worked together for a lot of years, you and I,’ said Ernst, and he almost sounded on the verge of tears. This was probably not his first drink of the day.

‘Yes, we did,’ said Gösta, nodding. ‘And now I need your help. Are you willing to keep this to yourself or not?’

Ernst thought for a moment. Then he sighed and waved his empty glass.

‘Okay. Shoot.’

‘Do I have your word of honour that whatever I say stays here?’ Gösta stared hard at Ernst, who nodded reluctantly.

‘Okay, okay. Go ahead and ask your question.’

‘We’re investigating the murder of Magnus Kjellner, which I’m sure you’ve heard about. In the process we’ve come across the name Lissander. I don’t know why, but it sounds familiar. And for some reason the name makes me think of you. Do you recognize it?’

Ernst swayed a bit on his chair. There wasn’t a sound in the room as Ernst considered the question while Martin and Gösta both stared at him expectantly.

Suddenly Ernst broke into a smile.

‘Lissander. Of course I recognize that name. Bloody hell!’

They had agreed to meet at the one place that Patrik and Paula were sure they could find in Trollhättan: the McDonald’s right near the bridge. That’s where they’d had lunch only a few hours earlier.

Ragnar Lissander was waiting inside, and Paula sat down next to him as Patrik bought coffee for all of them. Ragnar seemed even more invisible than he had at home. A small, balding man in a beige coat. His hand shook slightly as he accepted the coffee cup, and he was having a hard time looking them in the eye.

‘You wanted to talk to us?’ said Patrik.

‘We… we didn’t really tell you everything.’

Patrik didn’t speak. He was curious to find out how the man was going to explain that they hadn’t mentioned having a daughter.

‘It hasn’t always been easy, you know. We had a daughter. Alice. Christian was about five when she was born, and it wasn’t easy for him. I should have…’ His voice faded, and he took a sip of coffee before continuing. ‘I think he was damaged for life after what he’d been through. I don’t know how much you know about it, but Christian was alone for more than a week with his dead mother. She was mentally ill and couldn’t always take care of him – or herself either. Finally she died in their flat, and Christian wasn’t able to tell anyone. He thought she was just asleep.’

‘Yes, we know about that. We talked to the social welfare authorities and got copies of all the documents relating to the case.’ Patrik heard how formal it sounded when he said ‘the documents’. But that was the only way for him to maintain the necessary distance from the horrible event.

‘Did she die from an overdose?’ asked Paula. They hadn’t had time to read through all the details yet.

‘No, she wasn’t a junkie. She went through bad periods when she drank too much, and she was on prescription drugs, of course. But it was her heart that finally gave out.’

‘Why was that?’ Patrik really didn’t understand.

‘She didn’t take care of herself, and the alcohol and drugs came into the picture too. She was also tremendously obese. She weighed well over three hundred pounds.’

Something began stirring in Patrik’s subconscious. Something that didn’t make sense. But he’d have to think about that later.

‘And then Christian came to live with you?’ said Paula.

‘Yes, then he came to live with us. Iréne was the one who decided we should adopt him. We didn’t seem able to have any children of our own.’

‘But you never did adopt him, right?’ asked Patrik.

‘We probably would have if Iréne hadn’t got pregnant soon afterwards.’

‘That actually happens quite often,’ said Paula.

‘That’s what the doctor said too. And after our daughter was born, Iréne didn’t seem interested in Christian any more.’ Ragnar Lissander looked out of the window, holding his coffee cup in a tight grip. ‘Maybe it would have been better for the boy if she’d got her wish.’

‘And what was that?’ asked Patrik.

‘To give him back. She didn’t think we needed to keep him since we had our own child.’ He gave them an embarrassed smile. ‘I know how that sounds. Iréne can be difficult at times, and sometimes it gets a bit crazy. But she’s not always as mean as it sounds.’

A bit crazy? Patrik was about to choke in disgust. They were talking about a woman who wanted to give back her foster child after she had a child of her own. And the old man was actually defending her.

‘But you didn’t take him back, did you?’ he said coldly.

‘No. It was one of the few occasions when I put my foot down. At first she refused to listen, but when I told her that it would look bad, she agreed to let him stay. I probably shouldn’t have though…’ Again his voice faded, and they could see how hard it was for him to be talking about this topic.

‘How did Christian and Alice get along with each other when they were growing up?’ asked Paula, but Ragnar didn’t seem to hear. He seemed to be far away in his own thoughts. Quietly he said:

‘I should have taken better care of her. That poor boy. He didn’t understand a thing.’

‘What didn’t he understand?’ asked Patrik, leaning forward.

Ragnar gave a start and woke up from his reverie. He looked at Patrik.

‘Would you like to meet Alice? I think you need to meet her in order to understand.’

‘Yes, we’d like to meet Alice.’ Patrik couldn’t hide how agitated he felt. ‘When can we do that? Where is she?’

‘We can go there now,’ said Ragnar, getting to his feet.

Patrik and Paula exchanged glances as they walked to the car. Was Alice the woman they were looking for? Were they finally going to put an end to this case?

She was sitting with her back to them when they came in. Her long hair reached past her waist. Dark and gleaming.

‘Hi, Alice. It’s Pappa.’ Ragnar’s voice echoed in the very plain room. Someone had made a half-hearted attempt to add some cosy touches, but without entirely succeeding. A drooping potted plant stood on the windowsill, and a poster for the film The Big Blue hung on the wall above a narrow bed with a worn coverlet. There was also a small desk with a chair placed in front of it. That was where she was sitting. Her hands were moving, but Patrik couldn’t see what she was doing. She didn’t react when her father spoke to her.

‘Alice,’ he repeated, and this time she slowly turned around.

Patrick looked at her in surprise. The woman in front of him was stunningly beautiful. He quickly calculated that she must be about thirty-five, but she looked at least ten years younger. There wasn’t a wrinkle on her oval face. Her eyes were enormous and very blue, with thick black lashes. He found himself staring at her.

‘She’s a beautiful girl, our Alice,’ said Ragnar, going over to her. He placed his hand on her shoulder, and she leaned her head against him. Like a kitten pressing close to its master. Her hands lay limply on her lap.

‘We have visitors, Alice. This is Patrik and Paula.’ He hesitated. ‘They’re friends of Christian’s.’

A glint appeared in her eyes when she heard her brother’s name. Ragnar gently stroked her hair.

‘So now you know. Now you’ve met Alice.’

‘How long?’ Patrik couldn’t stop staring at her face. The resemblance to her mother was striking. Yet there was something very different about the way Alice looked. All the malevolence that had become etched into her mother’s face was absent from this… magical creature. He realized that was a strange way to describe her, but he couldn’t think of anything better.

‘A long time. She hasn’t lived at home since the summer she turned thirteen. This is the fourth place she’s lived. I didn’t much care for the others, but this one is quite nice.’ He leaned forward and kissed his daughter on the top of the head. There was no reaction in her face, but she pressed closer to him.

‘What…?’ Paula didn’t know how to formulate her question.

‘What’s wrong with her?’ said Ragnar. ‘If you ask me, there’s nothing at all wrong with her. She’s perfect. But I know what you mean. And I’ll tell you in a minute.’

He squatted down in front of Alice and spoke to her gently. Here, with his daughter, he was no longer in visible. His posture was more erect and his eyes were clear. Here he was somebody. He was Alice’s pappa.

‘Sweetheart, Pappa can’t stay very long today. I just wanted you to meet Christian’s friends.’

She looked at him. Then she turned around and took something from the desk. A drawing. She held it up for him to see.

‘Is that for me?’

She shook her head, and Ragnar’s shoulders sagged a bit. ‘Is it for Christian?’ he asked in a low voice.

She nodded and held it out again.

‘I’ll send it to him. I promise.’

The shadow of a smile. Then she turned back to the desk, and her hands began moving again. She had started on a new drawing.

Patrik cast a glance at the paper in Ragnar Lissander’s hand. He recognized the drawing style.

‘And you’ve always kept your promise, haven’t you? You sent her drawings to Christian,’ he said after they’d left Alice’s room.

‘Not all of them. She makes so many. But occasionally, so that he’d know she was thinking about him. In spite of everything.’

‘How did you know where to send the drawings? From what I understood, Christian had broken off all contact with you and your wife when he turned eighteen,’ said Paula.

‘Yes, he did. But Alice really wanted Christian to have her drawings, so I tried to find an address for him. I suppose I was a bit curious too. At first I searched for him under our surname, but without success. Then I tried with his mother’s last name and found an address in Göteborg. For a while I lost track of him because he moved and the letters came back, but then I found him again. Living on Rosenhillsgatan. But I didn’t know that he had moved to Fjällbacka. I thought he was still in Göteborg, since the letters weren’t returned.’

Ragnar went back into Alice’s room to say goodbye, and then led the way along the corridor as Patrik told him about the man who had taken care of the letters for Christian. Then the three of them sat down in a big, bright room that functioned as both a dining room and cafeteria. It had an impersonal air, with big palm plants that were clearly lacking both water and attention, just like the plant in Alice’s room. They had the whole place to themselves.

‘She cried a lot,’ said Ragnar, stroking the pastel-coloured tablecloth. ‘Presumably due to colic. During her pregnancy, Iréne had already lost interest in Christian, so when Alice was born and became so demanding, my wife had no time for the boy. And he was already in a fragile state because of what had happened to him before.’

‘What about you?’ said Patrik. When he saw Ragnar’s expression, he realized that he’d hit on a sensitive point.

‘Me?’ Ragnar stopped moving his hand on the table. ‘I closed my eyes and refused to see. Iréne has always been the one who makes the decisions. And I’ve let her do it. It’s just been easier that way.’

‘Didn’t Christian like his little sister?’ asked Patrik.

‘He used to stand next to her cot and stare at her. I saw the dark expression on his face, but I never thought that… I just had to leave the room to open the door when the bell rang.’ Ragnar sounded distracted, and he was staring at a spot somewhere behind them. ‘I was only gone a few minutes.’

Paula opened her mouth to ask a question, but decided not to interrupt. He should be allowed to tell the story at his own pace. It was obvious that Ragnar was having a hard time formulating his words. His whole body was tensed, his shoulders hunched.

‘Iréne had gone upstairs to take a nap, and for once I was put in charge of Alice. Otherwise Iréne never let anyone else take care of her. She was such a sweet baby, even though she cried all the time. It was as if Iréne suddenly had a new doll to play with. A doll that she refused to share with anyone else.’

Another pause, and Patrik had to make a real effort not to coax the man to get on with his story.

‘I was only gone a few minutes…’ Ragnar repeated. It was almost as if he’d got stuck. As if it was impossible for him to put the rest into words.

‘Where was Christian?’ asked Patrik calmly, wanting to help the man along a bit.

‘In the bathroom. With Alice. I was giving her a bath. We had one of those contraptions that you could put the baby in, and that way you’d have both hands free to wash her. I filled the tub with water and then put her in the baby seat. And that’s where Alice was sitting.’

Paula nodded. They had a similar device for her son Leo.

‘When I came back to the bathroom… Alice was… She wasn’t moving. Her head was all the way under the water. Her eyes were… open, wide open.’

Ragnar swayed a bit in his chair. It was obvious that he had to force himself to go on, to confront those awful memories and images.

‘Christian was just sitting there, leaning against the bathtub and looking down at her.’ Ragnar fixed his eyes on Paula and Patrik, as if he’d suddenly returned to the present. ‘He was sitting very still, and he was smiling.’

‘But you saved her, right?’ Patrik could feel the goose bumps on his arms.

‘Yes, I saved her. I got her breathing again. And then I saw…’ He cleared his throat. ‘I saw the disappointment in Christian’s eyes.’

‘Did you tell Iréne what happened?’

‘No, that would never… No!’

‘Christian tried to drown his little sister, and you didn’t tell your wife?’ Paula looked at him in disbelief.

‘I felt like I owed him something, after everything he’d been through. If I had told Iréne, she would have sent him away at once. And he wouldn’t have survived that. Besides, the damage was already done.’ He sounded as if he were pleading with them. ‘I didn’t know how serious it was at the time. But it didn’t really matter, because there was nothing I could do to change things. Sending Christian away wouldn’t have made it any better.’

‘So you pretended that nothing had happened?’ said Patrik.

Ragnar sighed, slumping forward even more. ‘Yes, I pretended that nothing had happened. But I never allowed him to be alone with her again. Never.’

‘Did he try anything else?’ Paula’s face was pale.

‘No, I don’t think so. Somehow he seemed satisfied. Alice stopped crying so much. She mostly just lay still and was not at all demanding.’

‘When did you and your wife notice that something was wrong?’ asked Patrik.

‘It gradually became obvious. She didn’t learn things at the same pace as other kids. When I finally got Iréne to admit to it, and we had Alice examined… well, the doctors concluded that she was suffering from some sort of brain damage, which would most likely keep her at a child’s level, mentally speaking, for the rest of her life.’

‘Did Iréne suspect anything?’ asked Paula.

‘No. The doctor even said that Alice had probably been that way since birth. It just wasn’t noticeable until after she started to develop.’

‘How did things go as the two children grew up?’

‘How much time do you have?’ said Ragnar, smiling. But it was a sad smile. ‘Iréne cared only about Alice. She was the prettiest child I’ve ever seen, and I’m not just saying that because she’s mine. Well, you’ve seen what she looks like.’

Patrik thought about those enormous blue eyes.

‘Iréne has always loved anything beautiful. She herself was very beautiful as a young woman, and I think that she saw Alice as an affirmation of her own beauty. She devoted all her attention to our daughter.’

‘And what about Christian?’ said Patrik.

‘Christian? It was as if he didn’t exist.’

‘That must have been terrible for him,’ said Paula.

‘Yes,’ said Ragnar. ‘But he staged his own little revolt. He loved to eat, and he put on weight very easily. He probably inherited that tendency from his mother. When he noticed that his eating habits annoyed Iréne, he started eating even more and got even fatter, just to spite her. And it worked. The two of them waged a constant battle over food, but for once Christian was able to defeat her.’

‘So Christian was always overweight when he was growing up?’ asked Patrik. He tried to picture the slim, adult Christian that he knew as a plump little boy, but he couldn’t do it.

‘He wasn’t just chubby, he was fat. Really fat.’

‘How did Alice feel about Christian?’ asked Paula.

Ragnar smiled, and this time the smile was also evident in his eyes. ‘Alice loved Christian. She adored him. She was always following him around like a little puppy dog.’

‘And how did Christian react to that?’ Patrik asked.

Ragnar paused to think. ‘I don’t think he really minded. He mostly left her alone. But occasionally he looked a bit surprised by the love she showered on him. As if he didn’t understand why.’

‘Maybe he didn’t,’ said Paula. ‘Then what happened? How did Alice react when he moved away?’

A curtain seemed to fall over Ragnar’s face. ‘A lot happened all at once. Christian disappeared, and we couldn’t take care of Alice any more – not the way she needed.’

‘Why not? Why couldn’t she live at home any longer?’

‘She was practically grown up, and she needed more support and assistance than we could give her.’

Ragnar Lissander’s mood had suddenly changed, but Patrik didn’t know why.

‘Has she never learned to talk?’ he interjected. Alice hadn’t spoken a word while they were in her room.

‘She can talk, but she doesn’t want to,’ said Ragnar with the same closed expression on his face.

‘Is there any reason why she might hold a grudge against Christian? Would she be capable of harming him? Or anyone else close to him?’ In his mind Patrik again pictured her – the girl with the long dark hair, her hands moving over the white piece of paper, drawing pictures that might have been done by a five-year-old.

‘No, Alice wouldn’t hurt a fly,’ said Ragnar. ‘That’s why I wanted to bring you here, so you could meet her. She could never hurt anybody. And she loves… loved Christian.’

He took out the drawing that she’d given him and placed it on the table in front of them. A big sun at the top, green grass with flowers at the bottom. Two figures: one big and one small, happily holding hands.

‘She loved Christian,’ he repeated.

‘Does she even remember him? It was so many years ago that they last saw each other,’ Paula pointed out.

Ragnar didn’t reply. He just motioned towards the drawing. The two figures. Alice and Christian.

‘Go ahead and ask the staff here if you don’t believe me. But Alice is not the woman you’re looking for. I don’t know who would want to harm Christian. He disappeared out of our lives when he was eighteen. A lot must have happened since then, but Alice was the one who loved him. She still does.’

Patrik looked at the little old man. He knew that he would have to do as Ragnar had suggested. He needed to question the staff here. Yet he was convinced that Alice’s father had spoken the truth. She was not the woman they were looking for. They were back to square one.

‘I have something important to report,’ Mellberg interrupted Patrik just as he was about to present the new information. ‘I’m going to cut back my work hours to part-time for a while. I’ve realized that my leadership has been so successful here at the station that I can now entrust all of you with certain tasks. My knowledge and experience can be put to better use elsewhere.’

Everyone stared at him in surprise.

‘It’s time for me to devote myself to the most important resource in our society: the next generation. The ones who will carry us into the future,’ said Mellberg, hooking his thumbs under his braces.

‘Is he going to be working at the youth centre?’ Martin whispered to Gösta, who merely shrugged in reply.

‘Besides, it’s also important to give the women a chance. As well as the immigrant minorities.’ He glanced at Paula. ‘I know that you and Johanna are having a hard time working out how to juggle the maternity leave you’re both entitled to so you can care for Leo. And the boy needs a strong male role model right from the start. So I’m going to be working here part-time; it’s already been approved by the top brass. The rest of the time I’ll be spending with the boy.’

Mellberg looked around at his colleagues, apparently expecting them to applaud. But an astonished silence had fallen over the room. Most surprised of all was Paula. This was news to her, but the more she thought about the idea, the better she liked it. It meant that Johanna could start working again, while she could combine her work schedule with hours of maternity leave. And she couldn’t deny that Mellberg took good care of Leo. So far he’d proven to be an excellent babysitter, except maybe for the incident with the taped nappy.

After the initial surprise had worn off, Patrik could only agree with the plan. From a practical standpoint, it meant that Mellberg’s hours at the station would be reduced by at least half. And that might not be such a bad thing.

‘I commend your initiative, Mellberg. I wish that more people shared your point of view,’ Patrik said. ‘And now I think we’d better get back to the investigation. A lot has happened today.’

He reported on the second trip to Trollhättan that he and Paula had made, about their conversation with Ragnar Lissander and their visit with Alice.

‘So you have no doubt in your mind that she’s innocent?’ asked Gösta.

‘I’m positive she’s not the one. I talked to the staff, and her mental capabilities are at the level of a child.’

‘I can’t imagine how Christian could live with the knowledge of what he’d done to his sister,’ said Annika.

‘And the fact that she adored him couldn’t have made it any easier,’ added Paula. ‘It must have been a heavy burden for him to bear. Provided that he knew what he’d done.’

‘We also have something to report.’ Gösta cleared his throat and cast a glance at Martin. ‘I thought I recognized the name Lissander, but I couldn’t recall where I’d heard it before. And I wasn’t one hundred per cent positive. The old grey matter isn’t as reliable as it once was,’ he said, pointing at his head.

‘And?’ said Patrik impatiently.

Gösta again glanced at Martin. ‘Well, first we had a talk with Kenneth Bengtsson, but he claims to know nothing. He also says that he never heard of the name Lissander. But I kept wondering why our former colleague Ernst kept popping into my head every time I thought about that name. So we went to see him.’

‘You drove over to Ernst’s house?’ said Patrik. ‘But why?’

‘Just listen to what Gösta has to say,’ Martin said, and Patrik fell silent.

‘Okay, well, I told Ernst about what I’d been thinking. And he worked it out.’

‘What did he work out?’ Patrik leaned forward.

‘He was able to tell me where I’d heard the name Lissander before,’ said Gösta. ‘It was because they lived here in Fjällbacka for a while.’

‘Who?’ Patrik asked in bewilderment.

‘Mr and Mrs Lissander, Iréne and Ragnar. With their children Christian and Alice.’

‘But that’s impossible,’ said Patrik, shaking his head. ‘If that was true, why didn’t anyone ever recognize Christian? Ernst must be mistaken.’

‘No, it’s true,’ said Martin. ‘Evidently Christian took after his biological mother, and he was terribly overweight when he was growing up. Take away one hundred and thirty pounds and add on twenty years and a pair of specs, and it would be hard to believe he was the same person.’

‘How did Ernst happen to know the family? And you too?’ asked Patrik.

‘Ernst was infatuated with Iréne. Apparently they got to know each other at some party, and after that Ernst always wanted to drive past their house as often as we could. So we took a lot of drives past the Lissander home.’

‘Where did they live?’ asked Paula.

‘In one of the houses right near the Coast Guard dock.’

‘You mean near Badholmen?’ asked Patrik.

‘Yes, very close. It was Iréne’s mother who originally owned the house. She was a real bitch, from what I heard. For many years she and her daughter had no contact whatsoever, but when the old lady died, Iréne inherited the place, so the Lissanders moved here from Trollhättan.’

‘Did Ernst know why they moved away from Fjällbacka?’ asked Paula.

‘No, he had no idea. But apparently it was quite sudden.’

‘So it seems that Ragnar didn’t tell us everything,’ said Patrik. He was really getting sick and tired of all the people who apparently had secrets that they refused to divulge. If everyone had been willing to cooperate, they probably would have solved this case long ago.

‘Good work,’ he said, nodding to Gösta and Martin. ‘I’m going to have another talk with Ragnar Lissander. There must be some reason why he never mentioned that they had once lived in Fjällbacka. He ought to have realized that it was just a matter of time before we found out anyway.’

‘But that still doesn’t tell us who the woman is that we’re looking for. It seems she should be someone that Christian knew when he was living in Göteborg. After he moved away from home and before he came back to Fjällbacka with Sanna.’ Martin was thinking out loud.

‘I wonder why he came back here,’ Annika interjected.

‘We need to find out more about the years that Christian spent in Göteborg,’ said Patrik. ‘So far we know of only three women who have figured in Christian’s life: Iréne, Alice, and his biological mother.’

‘Could it be Iréne? She would have a motive for seeking revenge, considering what Christian did to Alice,’ said Martin.

Patrik paused to think for a moment, but then shook his head.

‘I’ve also been thinking about her, and we can’t rule her out. But I don’t think so. According to Ragnar, she never found out what had happened. And even if she did know, why would she also target Magnus and the others?’

In his mind he pictured the disagreeable woman they had encountered at the house in Trollhättan. He heard again her contemptuous remarks about Christian and his mother. And suddenly a thought occurred to him. It was something that had been hovering in the back of his mind ever since they’d met with Ragnar for the second time. It was the one thing that didn’t seem to fit. Patrik picked up his mobile and quickly tapped in a number. Everyone sitting at the table looked at him in surprise, but he held up one finger as a sign that they shouldn’t speak.

‘Hi, this is Patrik Hedström. I actually wanted to talk to Sanna. Okay, I understand. But could you go and ask her a question for me? It’s important. Ask her if the blue dress she found was her size. Yes, I know it’s an odd question. But it would be a big help if you could ask her. Thanks.’

Patrik waited, and after about a minute Sanna’s sister, Agneta, was back on the line.

‘Oh, really? Okay. Good. Thanks a lot. And say hi to Sanna.’ Patrik ended the conversation with a pensive look on his face.

‘The blue dress was Sanna’s size.’

‘And?’ said Martin. He seemed to be speaking for everyone.

‘That’s a little odd, considering that Christian’s mother weighed more than three hundred pounds. So the dress must have belonged to someone else. Christian lied to Sanna when he told her it was his mother’s.’

‘Could it have belonged to Alice?’ said Paula.

‘That’s possible. But I don’t think so. There must have been another woman in Christian’s life.’

Erica glanced at the clock. It was turning out to be a long workday for Patrik. She hadn’t heard from him since he’d left the house that morning, but she hadn’t wanted to bother him by phoning. Christian’s death must have caused utter chaos at the station. Patrik would come home when he could.

She hoped that he wasn’t still mad at her. He’d never been truly angry with her before, and the last thing she wanted was to disappoint or upset him.

Erica ran her hand over her stomach. It seemed to be growing uncontrollably, and sometimes she felt such a dread of what was to come that she could hardly breathe. At the same time she was longing for it. Such ambiguous emotions: joy and concern; panic and anticipation. Everything blissfully mixed up together.

Anna must be feeling the same way. Erica felt guilty that she hadn’t been very receptive to listening to her sister talk about her own pregnancy. She had been so caught up in her personal situation. Yet after everything that had happened with Lucas – Anna’s former husband and the father of her two children – plenty of emotions had probably been stirred up now that she was pregnant. And with a new man in her life. Erica was ashamed by how selfish she’d been, talking only about her own feelings and worries. She would phone Anna tomorrow morning and suggest having coffee together, or maybe taking a walk. Then they’d have time for a proper chat.

Maja came over and crawled on to her lap. She looked tired even though it was only six o’clock, which was two hours before her bedtime.

‘Pappa?’ said Maja, pressing her cheek against Erica’s stomach.

‘Pappa will be home soon,’ said Erica. ‘But you and I are both hungry, so I think we should make ourselves some dinner. What do you say to that, sweetie? Shall we have a girls’ dinner tonight?’

Maja nodded.

‘How about Falu sausage and macaroni? With lots of ketchup.’

Maja nodded again. Her mamma knew just what to serve for a girls’ dinner.

‘So how should we do this?’ said Patrik, pulling up a chair to sit next to Annika.

It was pitch-dark outside, and everybody should have left for home long ago, but no one was even thinking of leaving the station. Except for Mellberg, that is, who had gone out the door about fifteen minutes earlier, whistling to himself.

‘Let’s start with the public records, even though I doubt we’ll find anything. I went through them before, when I was checking on his background, and I really can’t believe that I missed anything.’ Annika sounded apologetic, and Patrik patted her on the shoulder.

‘I know that you’re a perfectionist when it comes to doing research, but oversights can happen to anyone. If we look through the files together, maybe we’ll see something that you missed the first time. I think that Christian must have lived with a woman when he was in Göteborg – or at least had a relationship with someone. Maybe we can find something that will help us find out who that might have been.’

‘Let’s hope so,’ said Annika, turning the computer screen so that Patrik could see it too. ‘But as I said, he had no previous marriages.’

‘What about children?’

Annika typed something on the keyboard and then pointed at the screen.

‘No, he’s not listed as the father of any children other than Melker and Nils.’

‘Shit,’ said Patrik, running his hand through his hair. ‘Maybe it’s a stupid theory. I don’t know why I have such a strong feeling that we’ve missed something. The answer has to be somewhere in these files.’

He got up and went into his own office. He sat there for a long time, staring at the wall. The ringing of his phone abruptly interrupted his brooding.

‘Patrik Hedström.’ He could hear how discouraged his voice sounded. But when the man on the phone introduced himself and then explained why he was calling, Patrik sat up straighter in his chair. Twenty minutes later he rushed into Annika’s office.

‘Maria Sjöström!’

‘Maria Sjöström?’

‘Christian was living with a woman in Göteborg. Her name is Maria Sjöström.’

‘How did you…?’ said Annika, but Patrik went on without answering her question.

‘There’s also a child. Emil Sjöström. Or rather, there was a child.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘They’re dead. Both Maria and Emil are dead. And there’s an unsolved homicide investigation.’

‘What’s going on?’ Martin came rushing in after hearing Patrik shouting in Annika’s office. Even Gösta moved faster than usual to appear in the doorway, crowding inside with the others.

‘I’ve just talked to a man named Sture Bogh. He’s a retired police detective in Göteborg.’ Patrik paused for effect before he continued. ‘He read in the paper about Christian and the threats he’d received, and he recognized the name from one of his investigations. He thought he might have information that could prove useful to us.’

Patrik told his colleagues about his conversation with the former detective. In spite of all the years that had passed, Sture Bogh had never been able to forget those tragic deaths, and he gave Patrik a precise summary of the important facts in the case.

Everyone was left gaping when they heard Patrik recount what the detective had told him.

‘Can we get hold of the case documents?’ asked Martin eagerly.

‘It’s a little late for that now. I think it would be difficult,’ said Patrik.

‘No harm in trying,’ said Annika. ‘I have the number for the Göteborg police right here.’

Patrik sighed. ‘My wife is going to think that I ran off to Rio with some buxom blonde if I don’t get home soon.’

‘Phone Erica first, and then we’ll try to get hold of someone in Göteborg.’

Patrik gave in. None of them looked as though they wanted to leave, and he didn’t want to either – not until they’d done as much as they could.

‘Okay, but the rest of you need to go do something else while I make the calls. I don’t want you leaning over my shoulder.’

He went into his own office, closed the door, and phoned home first. Erica was very understanding. She and Maja had already eaten dinner together. Suddenly Patrik had such a longing to be home with his two girls that he almost felt on the verge of tears. He couldn’t ever remember feeling so tired. But he took a deep breath and tapped in the number Annika had given him.

At first Patrik didn’t notice that someone had answered. ‘Hello?’ said a voice on the line, and he jumped, realizing that he was supposed to say something. He introduced himself and explained what he needed. To Patrik’s surprise, his colleague in Göteborg was remarkably friendly and accommodating, offering to try to locate the investigative materials.

Patrik hung up, crossing his fingers. After waiting only about fifteen minutes, the phone rang.

‘Really? You did?’ Patrik could hardly believe his ears when his colleague said that they’d located the file. Patrik thanked him profusely, asking him to put the file aside. He’d make arrangements to collect the materials the next day. In the worst-case scenario, he’d drive to Göteborg himself, or maybe he could get the station to pay for a courier delivery.

Patrik remained sitting at his desk after putting down the phone. He knew that the others were in their offices, waiting to hear whether it was possible to get the investigative files. But first he needed to collect his thoughts. All the details, all the puzzle pieces were whirling through his head. He knew that they fit together somehow. It was just a matter of working out how.

Erik felt strangely sad as he was preparing to leave. Of course it was hard to say goodbye to his two daughters. He gave them both a hug, pretending that he’d be back in a few days. But he was surprised to find that it was also difficult to say goodbye to the house and to Louise, who stood in the front hall, looking at him with an inscrutable expression.

His original plan had been to slip away, just leaving a note behind. But then he suddenly felt a need to say a proper farewell. In order not to provoke suspicion, he had already placed the big suitcase in the boot of the car. He wanted Louise to think that this was just another business trip, requiring only a small carry-on bag.

Even though it was unexpectedly hard to say goodbye, Erik knew that he would soon settle into his new life. All he had to do was think about that Swedish lawyer named Joachim Posener who had fled the country back in 1997, suspected of embezzlement. He’d managed to stay away without suffering any pangs of conscience at leaving a child behind. Besides, his own daughters were teenagers now. They didn’t really need him any more.

‘What kind of business trip is it?’ Louise asked him.

Something in her tone of voice caught Erik’s attention. She didn’t know, did she? He dismissed the thought. Even if she had her suspicions, there was nothing she could do about it.

‘Meeting with a new supplier,’ he said, fiddling with the car keys in his hand. He was actually being quite decent, now that he thought about it. He was planning to take the smaller car and leave the Mercedes for Louise. And the money that he’d left in the bank account was enough to pay expenses for his wife and children for at least a year, including the mortgage on the house. So she’d have plenty of time to work out the situation.

Erik stood up straighter. There was really no reason for him to feel like an arsehole. If anyone ended up suffering because of his actions, that wasn’t his problem. It was his life that was in danger, and he couldn’t just sit here waiting for the past to catch up with him.

‘I’ll be back the day after tomorrow,’ he said lightly, giving Louise a nod. It had been years since he’d given her a hug or a kiss when he left for a trip.

‘Come back whenever you want,’ she said with a shrug.

Again he thought he noticed something odd about her, but it was probably just his imagination. And in two days’ time, when she would be expecting him to return home, he’d already be in a safe place.

‘Bye,’ he said, turning his back to her.

‘Bye,’ said Louise.

He got into the car, and as he drove off, he took one last glance in the rear-view mirror. Then he switched on the radio and began humming along. He was on his way.

Erica looked at Patrik with concern when he came in the door. Maja had been in bed for quite a while, and she was sitting on the sofa, having a cup of tea.

‘Tough day?’ she asked cautiously, getting up to put her arms around him.

Patrik buried his face in her neck and for a moment he didn’t move.

‘I need a glass of wine,’ he said then.

He went into the kitchen while Erica went back to her place on the sofa. She could heard sounds of a glass clinking and a cork being removed from a bottle. She remembered how nice it was to have a glass of wine, but right now she had to make do with her tea. That was one of the big disadvantages of being pregnant and then nursing a baby – not being able to have a glass of red wine once in a while. Every now and then she would take a tiny sip from Patrik’s glass, and she had to be satisfied with that.

‘It feels great to be home,’ said Patrik with an audible sigh as he sat down next to Erica. He put his arm around her shoulders and propped his feet up on the coffee table.

‘And I’m so happy to have you home,’ said Erica, snuggling closer to him. For several minutes neither of them spoke as Patrik sipped his wine.

‘Christian has a sister,’ he said at last.

Erica gave a start. ‘A sister? I never heard that before. He always said that he didn’t have any family.’

‘That wasn’t really true. I know I’ll probably regret telling you about all this, but I’m just so bloody tired. Everything that I’ve heard today keeps buzzing around in my head, and I really need to talk to somebody. But this has to stay between the two of us. Okay?’ He gave her a stern look.

‘I promise. Go ahead and tell me.’

So Patrik told her about everything that he’d found out. They sat in the dark living room, the only light coming from the TV screen. Erica didn’t say a word, just listened carefully. Although she couldn’t help shuddering when Patrik told her how Alice had ended up brain-damaged and how Christian had lived with that secret all those years while Ragnar both protected him and kept an eye on him. Erica shook her head after Patrik finished telling her everything about Alice and about the emotionally callous childhood Christian had been forced to endure until he left the Lissander family.

‘Poor Christian.’

‘But that’s not the end of the story.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Erica, and then gasped as one of the babies gave her a hard kick in the lungs. The twins were especially lively tonight.

‘Christian met a woman during the time he was studying in Göteborg. Her name was Maria. She had an infant son, almost a newborn when they met. She had no contact with the father. Maria and Christian soon moved in together, in a flat in Partille. The boy, Emil, became Christian’s own son. The three of them seemed to have been very happy.’

‘So what happened?’ Erica wasn’t sure that she really wanted to know. It might be easier to put her hands over her ears and shut out what she suspected was going to be a dreadful and difficult end to this story. But she couldn’t help asking Patrik what happened.

‘One Wednesday in April Christian came home from the university.’ Patrik kept his voice carefully neutral, and Erica took his hand. ‘The door was unlocked, which immediately made him uneasy. He called for Maria and Emil, but there was no answer. He walked through the flat, looking for them. Everything looked the same as always. Their coats were hanging up in the hall, so he didn’t think they’d gone out. And Emil’s pram was in the stairwell.’

‘I don’t know if I want to hear any more,’ whispered Erica, but Patrik was staring straight ahead and didn’t seem to hear her.

‘He found them at last. In the bathroom. Both of them had drowned.’

‘Dear God.’ Erica put her hand over her mouth.

‘The boy was lying on his back in the tub. His mother’s head was submerged in the water, but the rest of her body was outside the bathtub. The post-mortem found bruises left by fingertips on the back of her neck. Someone had forcibly held her head underwater.’

‘Who…?’

‘I don’t know. The police never managed to find the murderer. Strangely enough, Christian was never considered a suspect, even though he was the closest to the victims. That’s why we never found out about the case when we looked for his name in the police records.’

‘How is that possible?’

‘I’m not really sure. Everyone who knew them testified that they were an exceptionally happy couple. Even Maria’s mother defended Christian. And besides, a neighbour saw a woman enter the flat about the time the deaths occurred, as established by the medical examiner.’

‘A woman?’ said Erica. ‘The same one who…?’

‘I don’t really know what to think any more. This case is driving me mad. Somehow it all fits together – everything that has happened to Christian. Someone hated him so intensely that not even the passage of time was able to dull those emotions.’

‘And you have no idea who it might be?’ Erica could feel an idea taking shape in her mind, but she couldn’t really grasp what it was. The image was blurry. But there was one thing she knew for sure: Patrik was right. Somehow all of the events were connected.

‘Would you mind if I went to bed?’ said Patrik, putting his hand on her knee.

‘Not at all. You do that, sweetheart,’ she said absentmindedly. ‘I’m going to stay up for a little while. Then I’ll come to bed too.’

‘Okay.’ He gave her a kiss and then he headed upstairs to their bedroom.

She stayed where she was, sitting on the sofa in the dark. The TV news programme was on, but she left the sound off so she could listen to her own thoughts. Alice. Maria and Emil. There was something she ought to be seeing, something she ought to understand. She shifted her gaze to the book lying on the coffee table. Slowly she picked it up and placed it in her lap so she could look at the cover and the title. The Mermaid. She thought about depression and guilt. About what Christian had wanted to convey in his novel. She knew that the answer was there, in the words and the sentences he had left behind. And she was going to find out what it was.