The Fire Witness

65

Joona is back at the dam, looking down the high concrete wall where water is gushing from three openings sixty feet beneath him. Below the sluice gates, the concrete wall bends like a massive slide.

Joona’s arm is still in a sling and his jacket is hanging over his injured shoulder. He looks back along the river and thinks about the car with the two children inside. It’s pouring rain. The car skids into the traffic light in Indal and the windows are knocked out. Vicky’s wearing her seat belt but hits her head against the side window. The car is filled immediately with crumbs of glass and the cold rain starts pouring inside.

All is silent.

Then the child begins to scream. Vicky gets shakily out of the car, brushes off the glass, and opens the back door. She unbuckles the boy and looks to see if he is all right. She tries to get him to be quiet and then she drives on.

Perhaps she intends to drive over the bridge until she sees the blue lights of the police car blocking the road on the other side. She swings off the road in panic, brakes hard, but can’t stop the car as it drives into the river. Vicky hits her head again, perhaps on the steering wheel, and loses consciousness.

As the car plows through the water, they are probably both already unconscious. The current drags them through the window, softly and quietly, and pulls them along the rocky bottom of the river.

Joona picks up his cell phone to call Carlos Eliasson.

The diver from the rescue service is already standing in his blue wet suit on the dock at the power station. He’s checking the fasteners on his regulator.

“Carlos here,” Joona hears his boss say.

“Susanne Öst wants to end the preliminary investigation,” Joona says. “But I’m not done.”

“It’s always sad, but the killer is most likely dead, and so, unfortunately, we can’t justify the expense of continuing the investigation.”

“We haven’t found any bodies.”

Joona hears Carlos mutter something, then break into a coughing fit. He waits while Carlos takes a drink of water.

“It can take weeks for bodies to appear,” Carlos whispers, and clears his throat again.

“But I’m not done,” Joona says.

“Now you’re being stubborn.”

“I have to-”

“This isn’t even your case,” Carlos interrupts.

Joona is looking at a black log, which is speeding with the current. It hits the edge of the dam with a dull thud.

“Yes, it is,” Joona says.

“Joona.” Carlos sighs.

“The technical evidence points to Vicky, but there are no witnesses and she hasn’t been accused.”

“You can’t accuse the dead,” Carlos says.

Joona thinks about the girl, the lack of motive, the fact that she’d slept in her bed after those violent murders. He thinks about the fact The Needle mentioned: that Elisabet was killed with a hammer but Miranda with a rock.

“Just give me a week, Carlos,” Joona says. “I need a few answers before I come back.”

Carlos mumbles something.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Joona says.

“This is not formal,” Carlos repeats more loudly. “But as long as the internal investigation is under way, you can do what you want.”

“What are my resources?”

“What resources? You’re still just an observer and-”

“I’ve hired a diver.”

“A diver?” Carlos says agitatedly. “Do you know how much a diver costs? You can’t just-”

“And a dog.”

Joona hears the sound of a motor, turns, and watches a small gray car with a rattling engine park beside his. It’s a Messerschmitt Kabinenroller from the early sixties, with two wheels in the front and one in back. Joona rings off as the car door flies open and Gunnarsson, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, climbs out.

“I’m the one who decides whether or not to call in a diver!” roars Gunnarsson. He’s sprinting toward Joona. “You’re not supposed to have anything to do with this case!”

“I’m just observing,” Joona says calmly, and heads for the dock.