The Fire Witness

95

Elin is on her knees at the end of the bed looking at a trunk. She can tell it’s an American chest from the name and address written on the lid in elegant lettering: “Fritz Gustavsson 1861 Harmånger.” At the beginning of the twentieth century, more than a quarter of the Swedish population emigrated to America, their belongings packed into these trunks, but perhaps Fritz never got away. Elin tries to lift the lid. She can’t get it open and breaks a nail. The trunk is definitely locked.

She hears the sound of glass shattering. Someone screams.

Elin shudders and walks to the window. There are seven small containers on the sill, some tin and others porcelain. She opens the first two. One is empty and the other has a coil of old string.

Through the small window, she can see the dark abyss of the lawn. Beyond it, light from another window falls on the outhouse and the stinging nettles beside it.

She opens another porcelain jar and sees a few old copper coins. A tin jar with a painted harlequin on the side contains a few nails and a dead bumblebee.

She glances outside again as she feels her pulse rise in her temples. Everything is quiet. All she can hear is her own breathing. The shadow of a figure passes over the nettles and Elin drops the jar. Someone could be standing outside and looking right at her. She moves away from the window and is heading for the door when she spots a small sticker on the closet door. It’s Tigger from Winnie-the-Pooh.

Tuula had said that a tiger keeps watch over the flower button.

Inside the closet, oilskins are hanging from a hook and behind them is an ancient vacuum cleaner. Elin’s hands shake as she pulls the vacuum cleaner out. Beneath it, there are flattened tennis shoes and a dirty pillowcase. She grabs a corner of the pillowcase and can feel the weight of what’s inside.

She pours out the glittering contents onto the floor: coins, buttons, hair clips, glass marbles, a SIM card for a cell phone, a shiny ballpoint pen, capsules, earrings, and a key ring attached to a little metal fob with a light blue flower. Elin looks at the fob closely. She turns it over and sees the name Dennis engraved on it.

This must be what Vicky’s mother gave her.

Elin pockets the key ring and stuffs everything else back in the pillowcase. She puts it back in the closet, lifts the vacuum cleaner back on top, and pulls the oilskins to the front. She hurries over to the bedroom door. She listens for a moment, then opens it and walks out.

Tuula is standing there.

She is waiting in the dark hall a few steps away and she stares at Elin without saying a word.