The Fire Witness

49

Strandvägen 47 is right across the street from Djurgård Bridge. It is a luxury five-story limestone apartment building with an elegant entrance and a dark, attractive stairwell. The name “Frank” is engraved on a shiny black plaque beside a door on the second floor, which opens almost as soon as Joona rings the bell. A man with gelled short hair and an even tan looks at him questioningly.

“I’m looking for Elin Frank.”

“I’m Robert Bianchi, Elin’s personal assistant,” the man says as he holds out his hand.

“Joona Linna, the National Police.”

A slight smile passes over the man’s lips. “Sounds exciting, but-”

“I need to speak with her.”

“May I ask what it concerns? She is not to be disturbed unnecessarily…” The man stops speaking as Joona’s gaze turns cold.

“Please wait in the foyer while I ask her if she is able to receive visitors,” Bianchi says, and disappears behind a door.

The foyer is white and empty. There is no furniture, no coats, no shoes. Just smooth white walls and a single enormous mirror in a white frame.

Joona tries to imagine Vicky Bennet in this environment. A nervous, chaotic girl who did not appear in the Swedish register until she was six years old. A child who had lived only in garages or tunnels or stairwells, and probably a different one each night.

Bianchi returns, smiling calmly, and asks Joona to follow him. They walk past a large lounge with several sofa arrangements and a tile stove, elegantly decorated. Thick rugs muffle the sound of their footsteps as they walk past the various rooms until they reach a closed door.

“You can knock,” Robert says to Joona. His smile has become uncertain.

Joona knocks and hears someone in high-heeled shoes walk across a wooden floor. A thin middle-aged woman opens the door. She has dark blond hair and large blue eyes. She’s wearing a close-fitting red dress and three strands of snow-white pearls. Her makeup is sparse. She looks beautiful.

“Come in, Joona Linna,” she says. Her voice is low and well modulated.

The light-filled room has a desk, a group of sofas in white leather, and built-in bookcases painted white.

“I was just about to have some chai. Is it too early for you?” she asks.

“No, that sounds fine,” Joona says.

Robert leaves the room and Elin gestures toward the sofas.

“Let’s sit down.”

She sits across from him and crosses her legs.

“Now, what do you want to ask me about?” she says.

“A number of years ago, you and your former husband, Jack, were the foster parents of a young girl-”

“We’ve helped many children over the years-”

“Her name is Vicky Bennet,” Joona interrupts her quietly.

For just an instant she frowns slightly, but her voice remains calm.

“I remember Vicky very well,” she says with a brief smile.

“What do you remember about her?” asks Joona.

“She was a sweet little thing and she…” Elin Frank falls silent and stares into space. Her hands lie completely still in her lap.

“We believe that she might be involved in the murder of two people at a youth home in Sundsvall,” Joona says.

The woman turns her face quickly away from Joona, but not before he sees the frown return. She smoothes her skirt with her hands, which seem to be trembling slightly.

“How does this concern me?” she asks.

Robert knocks on the door and then pushes in a tea cart. Elin Frank thanks him and asks him to leave.

“Vicky Bennet has been missing since Friday,” Joona says. “It is possible that she might come looking for you.”

Elin bows her head slightly and swallows hard.

“No, she won’t,” Elin finally says in a chilly voice.

“Why not?” asks Joona.

“She will never attempt to contact me,” Elin replies. She stands up. “It was a mistake to let you in my house without finding out your business first.”

Joona stays seated and looks up at her.

“Who will Vicky try to contact, then? Will she try to contact Jack?”

“If you have any more questions, contact my lawyer,” Elin says and leaves the room.

A moment later, Robert enters. “I will show you the door,” he says shortly.

“Thank you very much,” Joona says. He reaches for the cart and pours tea into a cup. He picks it up, blows on it, takes a careful sip, and helps himself to a lemon cookie. He eats the cookie and sips his tea unhurriedly. Finally he lifts the napkin from his knee and wipes his mouth, folds the napkin carefully, and places it on the table. Then he stands up.

Robert follows him as he walks past the enormous rooms and the lounge with the decorated tile stove. He walks through the white foyer and opens the door to the stairwell.

Robert finally speaks. “I must tell you. It is important that Elin not be associated with any negative-”

“I hear what you’re saying,” Joona interrupts. “But this is not about Elin Frank, but-”

“For me it is about Elin Frank. For her it’s about Elin Frank,” Robert says.

“I understand. However, the past is never concerned about anyone’s reputation. When the past catches up to you, it has no regard for anyone at all,” Joona says, and he heads down the stairs.