The Lost Boy

9

‘Nice place,’ said Gösta. His eyes swept over the flat. Even though he was pleased with himself for taking the initiative, his stomach churned at the thought of Hedström’s reaction.

‘Probably gay,’ said Mellberg.

Gösta sighed. ‘What exactly are you basing that assumption on?’

‘Only gay guys have places as neat and tidy as this one. Real men always have a few piles of crap in the corners. And they definitely don’t have curtains on the windows.’ He frowned as he pointed to the snow-white curtains. ‘Besides, everybody says that he never had any girlfriends.’

‘I know, but …’ Gösta sighed again and gave up trying to argue. Mellberg may have been born with two ears, just like everyone else, but he seldom used them for listening.

‘If you take the bedroom, I’ll take the living room. Okay?’ Mellberg began pulling books from the shelves.

Gösta nodded as he surveyed the room. It was a bit impersonal. A beige sofa, a coffee table made of dark wood with a light-coloured rug underneath, a TV on a stand, and a bookcase with a small selection of books. At least half of them were non-fiction works about economics and accounting.

‘What a strange guy,’ said Mellberg. ‘He has hardly any possessions.’

‘Maybe he liked living an uncluttered life,’ said Gösta and then went into the bedroom.

It was as neat as the living room. A bed with a white headboard, a bedside table, several white-painted wardrobes, and a chest of drawers.

‘There’s a woman in the photograph in here,’ Gösta yelled to Mellberg as he picked up a small picture that was leaning against the lamp on the bedside table.

‘Is she a hottie? Let me see.’ Mellberg came into the bedroom.

‘Er, well, maybe pretty would be a better description.’

Mellberg glanced at the photo and made a face to indicate that he wasn’t especially impressed. He went back to the living room, leaving Gösta to stand there holding the picture. He wondered who she was. She must have meant something to Mats Sverin. It seemed to be the only photograph in the whole flat, and he’d kept it in the bedroom.

Gösta put the picture back on the table and began going through the chest of drawers and wardrobes. He found only clothing, nothing of a more personal nature. No diaries, no old letters or photo albums. Though he meticulously searched every nook and cranny, after a while he had to concede that there was nothing of interest. It was almost as if Sverin had never existed prior to moving into the flat. The only thing that contradicted this was the picture of the woman.

Gösta went back to the bedside table and picked up the photograph again. He thought her very pretty. Slender and petite, with long blond hair, which the wind was ruffling around her face at the moment the picture was taken. He squinted and held the photo closer as he studied every detail. He was looking for some clue that might tell them who she was or at least where the photo was taken. Nothing had been written on the back, and the only thing to be seen behind the woman was a lot of greenery. But when he took another look, he suddenly noticed that on the right side of the photo a hand was visible. Someone was either on his way into or out of the picture. It was a small hand. The photo was too blurry for him to be a hundred per cent sure, but he thought it was a child’s hand. Gösta put the photo down. Even if he was right, that didn’t really tell him much. He turned on his heel and started to leave the bedroom, but then changed his mind. Returning to the bedside table, he picked up the photo and tucked it in his pocket.

‘This really wasn’t worth the trouble,’ muttered Mellberg. He was on his knees, peering under the sofa. ‘Maybe it would have been better to let Hedström handle the search after all. It feels like a complete waste of our time.’

‘We haven’t done the kitchen yet,’ said Gösta, pretending not to hear Mellberg’s complaints.

He began pulling out drawers and opening cupboards in the kitchen, but he found nothing of interest. The dishes looked as if they came from IKEA, and neither the refrigerator nor the pantry was particularly well stocked.

Gösta turned and leaned against the counter. Suddenly he caught sight of something lying on the kitchen table. A cord ran down under the table and was plugged into a socket in the wall. He picked up the cord for a closer look. It was a computer cable.

‘Do we know whether Sverin had a laptop?’ he called.

He didn’t get an answer, but he could hear footsteps trudging towards the kitchen.

‘Why do you ask?’ said Mellberg.

‘Because there’s a computer cable here, but nobody mentioned anything about a laptop.’

‘It’s probably at his office.’

‘But wouldn’t they have said so when Paula and I were over there? They must realize that we’d be interested in seeing his laptop.’

‘Did you ask them?’ Mellberg raised an eyebrow.

Gösta had to admit that they hadn’t. They’d completely forgotten to ask for permission to inspect Sverin’s computer. Presumably it was still in the council offices. He suddenly felt like a fool, standing there with the cable in his hand, so he let it fall to the floor.

‘I’ll drop by the council offices later on,’ he said, and walked out of the kitchen.

‘God, I hate waiting. Why does everything have to take so long?’ Patrik muttered with annoyance as he pulled into the car park in front of Göteborg police station.

‘Getting the report by next Wednesday is actually quite fast,’ said Paula. She held her breath as Patrik barely missed hitting a lamppost.

‘I suppose you’re right,’ replied Patrik as he got out of the car. ‘But we have no idea how long it’s going to take to get the results from the forensics lab. Especially the data on the bullet. If there’s a match on record, we need that information now, not in two weeks’ time.’

‘It can’t be helped. Besides, there’s nothing we can do,’ said Paula, heading towards the entrance.

They’d phoned to say they were coming, but the receptionist still asked them to take a seat and wait. Ten minutes later a muscular and unbelievably tall man appeared and came striding over to them. Patrik reckoned he must be well over six feet tall. When he stood up to shake hands, he felt like a midget in comparison. It was even more extreme for Paula, who was so short that she reached only to the man’s waist.

‘Welcome. I’m Walter Heed. We spoke on the phone.’

Patrik and Paula introduced themselves and were duly escorted out of the reception area.

Those shoes must be special-order, thought Patrik, staring in fascination at Walter’s feet. They were like small boats. Paula gave Patrik a poke in the side. Embarrassed, he made an effort to look straight ahead.

‘Come in. This is my office. Would you like a cup of coffee?’

They both nodded and were immediately served coffee from the vending machine out in the hall.

‘So, you need information on an assault case, is that right?’

Patrik merely nodded in reply.

‘I have the file here, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to tell you much.’

‘Could you give us a brief summary of the facts?’ asked Paula.

‘Of course. Now, let me see …’ Walter opened the folder and swiftly scanned a few documents. He cleared his throat. ‘Mats Sverin returned home late to his flat on Erik Dahlbergsgatan. He wasn’t sure of the exact time, but he thought it was not long after midnight. He’d been out to dinner with some friends. The victim’s memory was rather hazy afterwards, because he suffered severe blows to the head, and there were gaps in what he could recall.’ Walter raised his eyes from the folder and continued his report without referring to the file again. ‘In the end, what we managed to get out of him was that a bunch of young thugs were standing outside his front door. When he told one of them off for taking a piss there, they attacked him. But he couldn’t give us a clear description or even tell us how many there were. We interviewed Mats Sverin on several occasions after he regained consciousness, but unfortunately we learned very little.’ Walter sighed as he closed the file folder.

‘And that’s as far as you got with the investigation?’ asked Patrik.

‘Yes. There was too little to go on. And no witnesses. But …’ He hesitated and then took a sip of his coffee.

‘But what?’

‘This is just speculation on my part …’ Again he hesitated.

‘We’d appreciate anything you can give us,’ said Paula.

‘Well, the whole time I had the feeling that Sverin knew more than he was telling. I have no proof, but when we were talking to him, he seemed to be holding back.’

‘You mean he knew who attacked him?’ asked Patrik.

‘I have no idea whether he did or not.’ Walter threw out his hands. ‘As I said, it was just a sense that he was withholding information. But you know as well as I do that there are lots of reasons why a victim might choose to remain silent.’

Patrik and Paula nodded.

‘I wish I could have devoted more time to the case and dug up more information. But we just don’t have the resources, and in the end we had to shelve the investigation. We realized that we weren’t going to get any further unless some new lead turned up.’

‘You might say that’s exactly what has happened now,’ said Patrik.

‘Do you think there’s a connection between the assault and the murder?’

Patrik crossed his legs and took a few seconds to consider the question before he answered.

‘At this stage we’re trying to keep an open mind. But that’s certainly one possibility. It’s an interesting coincidence that Sverin was assaulted only a few months before he was found shot to death.’

‘True. Well, be sure to let us know if there’s any way we can assist you.’ Walter stood up, unfolding his tall body. ‘Our investigation remains open, and we might be able to help each other out.’

‘Absolutely,’ said Patrik, shaking hands with him. ‘Could we have a copy of your file?’

‘I’ve already had one made for you,’ said Walter, giving Patrik a stack of documents. ‘Can you find your way out?’

‘Sure. By the way …’ Patrik turned as they were about to leave the office. ‘We were thinking of paying a visit to the organization that Sverin used to work for. Can you tell us how to get there?’ He took out a piece of paper on which he’d jotted down the address.

Walter gave them a few simple directions, and then they said goodbye.

‘That wasn’t very productive,’ said Paula when they were once again seated in the car.

‘Don’t say that. It took a lot for him to stick out his neck like that and admit that a crime victim was holding back information. We need to find out more about the attack on Sverin. Maybe his move to Fjällbacka was an unsuccessful attempt to flee from something in Göteborg.’

‘Oh, so that’s why we’re starting with his previous employer,’ Paula concluded as she fastened her seat belt.

Patrik backed out of the car park, and Paula closed her eyes when he almost ran into the side of a blue Volvo 740 which, for some inexplicable reason, he hadn’t noticed in the rear-view mirror. Next time she was going to insist on taking the wheel. Her nerves weren’t going to stand much more of Patrik’s driving.

The children were running around in the courtyard. Madeleine was chain-smoking, even though she knew that she ought to stop. But here in Denmark it seemed everybody smoked.

‘Mamma, can I go over to Mette’s?’ Her daughter Vilda was standing in front of her with tousled hair and rosy cheeks from all the fresh air and activity.

‘Of course you can,’ she said, kissing Vilda on the forehead.

One of the best things about this block of flats was that the big courtyard was always filled with children, and they were constantly running in and out of each other’s homes, like one big family. She smiled and lit another cigarette. It was strange to feel so safe. She hadn’t felt this way in such a long time that she could hardly remember what it was like. They’d been living here in Copenhagen for four months now, and the days seemed to pass at a leisurely pace. She had even stopped flinching when she went past the windows. Now she walked past, standing tall, even when the curtains were open.

They’d taken care of everything. It wasn’t the first time, but things were different now. She had spoken to them herself, explained why she and her children needed to disappear again. And they had listened. The next night she’d received word to pack a bag for herself and her kids, and go down to the car that was waiting, with the motor running.

She had made up her mind not to look back. Not for an instant had she doubted that she’d made the right decision, yet sometimes she couldn’t push aside the pain. It appeared in her dreams, waking her, and she’d lie in bed staring into the darkness. There she would see him – the man she couldn’t allow herself to think about.

The cigarette burned her fingers, and she swore and tossed the butt to the ground. Kevin gave her an intent look. She’d been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t noticed when he sat down next to her on the bench. She reached out to ruffle his hair, and he offered no objection. He was such a serious boy. Her big little boy. Even though he was only eight, he’d already been through so much.

All around them they heard happy shouts echoing between the buildings. She had already noticed some Danish words sneaking into her children’s vocabulary. She was both amused and frightened. Letting go of what had once been, of the people they once were, involved a sense of loss. Over time, the children would lose their own language, lose their Swedish with the Göteborg accent. But she was willing to make that sacrifice. They were home now, and they wouldn’t have to move any more. They could stay here and forget everything that they’d left behind.

She stroked Kevin’s cheek. In time he would become a child like the others again. And that would make it all worthwhile.

Maja came running and threw herself into Erica’s arms, which was what she always did when her mother came to pick her up. After giving Erica a hug and a wet kiss, she reached up her hands to try and pat her little brothers in the pram.

‘Looks like somebody is very fond of her brothers,’ said Ewa, who stood outside, ticking off the names of the children from her list as someone came to fetch each of them.

‘Yes, most of the time, at least. But they do get a swat now and then.’ Erica patted Noel’s cheek.

‘It’s not unusual for a child to react when younger siblings arrive and she’s no longer getting her parents’ full attention.’ Ewa leaned over the pram to say hello to the twins.

‘I agree. It’s perfectly understandable, and things have actually been going amazingly well.’

‘Do they sleep through the night?’ Ewa tickled the boys and received two toothless smiles in return.

‘They’re good sleepers. The only problem is that Maja thinks it’s boring when they’re asleep, so if she gets the chance she likes to slip upstairs and wake them.’

‘I can imagine! She’s a very plucky and resourceful little girl.’

‘That’s putting it mildly.’

The twins started squirming in the pram, and Erica glanced around to see what had become of her daughter.

‘Go and have a look at the jungle gym.’ Ewa nodded towards the playground. ‘That’s her favourite place.’

And she was right. At that very moment Erica saw Maja come racing down the slide, a big smile on her face. She took some convincing, but eventually Maja agreed to stand on the running board so they could leave the day-care centre.

‘Go home?’ asked Maja. Erica had turned right instead of left as she usually did when they were walking home.

‘No, we’re going to visit Aunt Anna and Uncle Dan,’ she said, and was rewarded with a jubilant cry from her daughter.

‘Play with Lisen. And Emma. Not Adrian,’ Maja firmly announced.

‘Is that so? Why don’t you want to play with Adrian?’

‘Adrian is a boy.’

Clearly no further explanation was necessary, because that was the extent of the information Erica was able to get out of her daughter. She sighed. Should the division between boys and girls really occur so early? Determining what a child should or should not do, what a child wore and who she played with? She felt guilty, wondering whether she had contributed to this by giving in to her daughter’s demands that everything of hers should be pink and princess-like. Maja’s entire wardrobe was now filled with pink clothes, because that was the only colour she was willing to wear; otherwise she threw a fit. Was it wrong to allow her to make her own decisions?

Erica pushed those thoughts aside. She didn’t have the energy for that topic at the moment. Besides, it was taking all her strength to push the heavy pram. She paused for a moment at the roundabout before setting off again, heading left along Dinglevägen. She could see Dan’s and Anna’s house on Falkeliden, but it suddenly seemed much further away than usual. Finally she reached it, but the last bit up the hill had nearly done her in, and for a long time she simply stood at their front door, trying to catch her breath. Her pulse finally slowed enough so that she could ring the bell, and only a few seconds later the door was flung open.

‘Maja!’ shrieked Lisen. ‘And the babies!’ She turned around and shouted into the house:

‘Erica’s here. And Maja and the babies! They’re so adorable!’

Erica couldn’t help laughing at Lisen’s enthusiasm. She stepped aside to allow Maja to go in.

‘Is your pappa home?’

‘Pappa!’ yelled Lisen in answer to Erica’s question.

Dan came into the hall from the kitchen.

‘Oh, it’s great to see you,’ he said, holding out his arms to give Maja a hug. She was very fond of Dan.

‘Come in, come in.’ He put Maja down, and she quickly ran off to see what the other kids were doing. By the sound of things, they were watching a children’s programme on TV.

‘Sorry that I keep popping over like this,’ said Erica as she hung up her jacket. She lifted the carrycots out of the pram and followed Dan, who led the way into the kitchen.

‘We’re delighted to have some company,’ said Dan, rubbing his face. He looked terribly tired and dejected.

‘I’ve just made a fresh pot of coffee,’ he added, looking at Erica to see if she’d like some.

‘Since when do you even need to ask?’ she said with a wry smile. She put the twins down on a blanket that she’d taken out of the babies’ nappy bag.

Then she sat at the kitchen table, and Dan took a seat across from her after pouring two cups of coffee. Neither of them spoke for a while. They knew each other so well that silence never made them uncomfortable. Strangely enough, her sister’s husband had been Erica’s boyfriend once upon a time. But that was so long ago that they could hardly remember it. Their relationship had developed instead into a warm friendship, and Erica couldn’t have wished for a better husband for her sister.

‘I had an interesting conversation today,’ she said at last.

‘Really?’ said Dan, sipping his coffee. He was a man of few words, and he also knew that Erica didn’t need much encouragement in order to continue.

She told him how she’d bumped into Vivianne and what she’d said about Anna.

‘We’ve let Anna withdraw from everyone, when we should have done the opposite.’

‘I’m not so sure about that,’ said Dan, getting up to refill their cups. ‘It feels like whatever I do is the wrong thing.’

‘But I think she’s right. I’m certain of it. We can’t let Anna just lie in bed and quietly waste away. If necessary, we have to force her to pay attention to us.’

‘Maybe you’ve got a point,’ he said, although he sounded doubtful.

‘It’s at least worth a try,’ Erica insisted. She bent down to check on the twins. They were lying on the blanket on the floor, waving their little hands and feet in the air. They looked so content that she leaned back in her chair again.

‘Anything is worth a try, but …’ Dan fell silent, as if he didn’t dare say out loud what he was thinking, for fear that it might become true. ‘But what if nothing helps? What if she’s given up?’

‘Anna doesn’t give up,’ said Erica. ‘She’s at a low ebb now, but she won’t give up. You have to believe that. You have to believe in Anna.’

She stared at Dan, forcing him to meet her gaze. Anna wouldn’t give up, but she needed help taking those first steps. And they were going to give her that help.

‘Could you watch the boys? I’m going to sit with her for a while.’

‘Sure, I’ll take care of the little tykes.’ Dan smiled wanly. He stood up and then sat down on the floor next to Anton and Noel.

Erica was already on her way out of the kitchen. She went upstairs and quietly opened the door to the bedroom. Anna was lying in exactly the same position as before. On her side, with her face turned towards the window. Erica didn’t say a word, just lay down on the bed and pressed her body against Anna’s. She put her arm around her and pulled her close, feeling her own warmth enveloping her sister.

‘I’m here, Anna,’ she whispered. ‘You’re not alone. I’m here.’

The food that Gunnar had brought was starting to run out, but she hesitated to phone Matte’s parents again. She didn’t want to think about him, about how disappointed he must have felt.

Nathalie blinked away the tears and decided to wait to ring them until the following day. They had enough to make do, she and Sam. He didn’t eat much. She was still feeding him like a baby, forcing him to take each bite, only to see most of it spill out of his mouth again.

She shivered, wrapping her arms around her body. Even though it wasn’t particularly cold outside, it felt as if the wind blowing across the island came straight through the walls of the house, through her thick clothing, through her skin and into her bones. She put on yet another sweater, a heavy one that her father had always worn whenever he went out fishing, but it made no difference. It was as if the chill were coming from inside of her.

Her parents wouldn’t have liked Fredrik. She had known that from the moment she met him, yet she had pushed the thought away. They had died and left her on her own, so why should they have the right to influence her life? That was how she had felt for a long time: that they had abandoned her.

Her father died first. One day he suffered a heart attack and collapsed at home, never to get up again. Death was instantaneous, the doctor had said, trying to console them. Three weeks later her mother had received her death sentence. Liver cancer. She lingered for another six months before she passed away in her sleep, for the first time in months with a peaceful, almost happy expression on her face. Nathalie sat beside her when she died, holding her hand and trying to feel what she ought to feel: grief and loss. Instead she was filled with anger. How could they leave her all alone? She needed them. With them she had felt safe; she had always been able to return to their embrace after doing something stupid, something that made them shake their heads and say gently: ‘But Nathalie, what were you thinking?’ Who was going to keep an eye on her now? Who was going to rein in her wild side?

She sat at her mother’s deathbed, and in a single moment she became an orphan. Only she was nothing like the orphan in Annie, a favourite film from her childhood. While that little girl had been adopted by a kindly millionaire, Nathalie was left to her own devices, with no one to stop her making impulsive and stupid decisions, or pushing the boundaries, even when she knew she shouldn’t. And so Nathalie took up with Fredrik – something which would have prompted her parents to have a serious talk with her. They would have tried to persuade her to drop him, to turn away from the life that would lead straight into the abyss. But they weren’t there. They had abandoned her, and deep in her heart she was furious about that.

She sat down on the sofa and drew her knees to her body, wrapping her arms around her legs. Matte had been able to soothe her anger. For a few hours, on one brief evening and night, she had not felt alone for the first time since her parents died. And now he was gone. She leaned her forehead on her knees and wept. She was still the little, abandoned Nathalie.

‘Is Erling in?’

‘He’s in his office. Go ahead and knock.’ Gunilla half-rose from her chair to point in the direction of Erling’s closed door.

‘Thanks.’ Gösta nodded and headed down the corridor. He was mortified at having to return on this errand. It wouldn’t have been necessary if he’d only thought to ask about Mats’s computer when he was here with Paula. But it hadn’t occurred to either of them on their last visit.

‘Come in!’ Erling said at once when he heard the knock. Gösta opened the door and went in.

‘If the police keep dropping in like this, we can stop worrying about security at the office.’ Erling put on his best politician’s smile and enthusiastically shook Gösta’s hand.

‘Er, yes, well, there’s one thing that I need to follow up on,’ muttered Gösta as he sat down.

‘Ask away. We’ll do whatever we can to help the police.’

‘It has to do with Mats Sverin’s computer. We’ve just done a search of his flat, and he seems to have had a laptop computer. Is it here at the office?’

‘Mats’s computer? I’ve no idea. Let me go and see.’

Erling stood up and went out into the hall, turning immediately to enter the neighbouring office. He came back almost at once.

‘No, it’s not here. Was it stolen?’ He looked nervous as he again took his place behind the desk.

‘We don’t know. But we’d like to get hold of it.’

‘Have you found Mats’s briefcase?’ asked Erling. ‘It’s brown leather. He always had it with him whenever he went to and from work, and I know that he often put his laptop inside.’

‘No, we haven’t found a brown briefcase.’

‘That’s not good. If the computer and briefcase have been stolen, sensitive information might fall into the wrong hands.’

‘What sort of information?’

‘I just mean that of course we wouldn’t want information about civic finances and the like to be spread willy-nilly without some sort of control being imposed. It’s public information, so there’s nothing secret about it, but we still want to know how and where the information is made available. And with the Internet, you never know where things end up.’

‘That’s true,’ said Gösta.

He couldn’t help feeling disappointed that the laptop wasn’t here in the office. What could have happened to it? Was Erling right to fear that it had been stolen? Or could Mats have stowed it somewhere other than in his flat?

‘Well, thanks for your help, anyway,’ said Gösta, getting to his feet. ‘I’m sure we’ll be in touch again. And if the laptop or briefcase should turn up, could you please phone us at once?’

‘Of course,’ said Erling, following Gösta out into the corridor. ‘Would you mind doing the same? It’s very worrisome to think that council property has disappeared like this. Especially now. Project Badis is the biggest venture we’ve ever embarked on.’ Erling stopped abruptly. ‘Wait a minute. When Mats left the office on Friday, he mentioned that there were some discrepancies that concerned him. He was going to take up the issue with Anders Berkelin, who is responsible for the Badis finances. You could ask him if he knows anything about the missing laptop. It may be a long shot, but as I said, we’d like to get it back most urgently.’

‘We’ll have a talk with him, and we’ll let you know as soon as we find the computer.’

Gösta sighed to himself as he left the council building. It looked as if there was going to be a lot of work to do on this case – too much work. And the golf season was already well under way.

The Refuge premises were discreetly located in an office park in Hisingen. Patrik missed the entrance at first but finally managed to find it after driving past a few times.

‘Do they know we’re coming?’ asked Paula as she got out of the car.

‘No. I decided not to give them any advance warning.’

‘What do you know about this organization?’ She nodded at the name printed on the sign in the entryway.

‘They help battered women, providing shelter when they need to escape. Hence the name of the group: the Refuge. They also offer support while the woman remains in the relationship, helping her and any children to leave the abusive situation. Annika said she couldn’t find out much more than that. They seem to operate with maximum discretion.’

‘Perfectly understandable,’ said Paula, pressing the button next to the name on the plaque. ‘Even though this wasn’t exactly an easy place to find, I assume that they don’t receive the women here.’

‘No. They probably have space somewhere else.’

‘Hello? The Refuge.’ A voice crackled over the intercom, and Paula gave Patrik an enquiring look. He cleared his throat.

‘My name is Patrik Hedström. My colleague and I are from the Tanum police. We’d like to come in and ask you a few questions.’ He paused. ‘It’s about Mats Sverin.’

Silence. Then they heard a buzzing sound and they were able to push open the door. The office was on the second floor, so they took the stairs. Patrik noted that the door to the Refuge offices was different from the other doors in the building. It was more solid, made of steel with a seven-lever deadbolt. They rang another bell, which prompted crackling over another intercom.

‘It’s Patrik Hedström.’

After a few seconds the door was unlocked.

‘Sorry. We always handle visitors with the greatest caution.’ A woman in her forties wearing worn jeans and a white sweater stood in the doorway. She held out her hand. ‘Leila Sundgren. I’m the director of the Refuge.’

‘Patrik Hedström. And this is my colleague Paula Morales.’

They greeted each other politely.

‘Come in. We can sit in my office. You said this was about Matte?’ There was a slight nervousness in her voice.

‘Let’s wait until we get to your office,’ said Patrik.

Leila nodded and led the way to a small but bright room. The walls were covered with children’s drawings, and the desk was neat and tidy. Not at all like Patrik’s. He and Paula sat down.

‘How many women do you help each year?’ asked Paula.

‘About thirty come to live with us. There’s a tremendous need. Sometimes it feels as if it’s just a drop in the sea, but unfortunately it’s a matter of limited resources.’

‘How is the organization financed?’ Paula was genuinely interested, so Patrik leaned back and let her ask the questions.

‘We get money from two sources: social services contributions and individual donations. But as I mentioned, money is in short supply, and we always wish we could do more.’

‘How many employees do you have?’

‘We have three paid staff members, plus an ever-changing number of volunteers. The salaries aren’t substantial; I want to emphasize that. All of us who work here have taken pay cuts, in comparison with our previous jobs. We’re not in it for the money.’

‘Mats Sverin – was he one of the paid employees?’ Patrik interjected.

‘Yes. He was hired as the financial officer. He worked here for four years and did a fantastic job. In his case, the salary was laughable if you consider what he’d been earning before. He was a truly dedicated staff member. And it didn’t take much to persuade him to participate in this experiment.’

‘Experiment?’ said Patrik.

Leila paused, looking as if she needed a moment to formulate what she wanted to say.

‘The Refuge is unique,’ she said at last. ‘Normally there are no men in women’s crisis organizations. I’d go so far as to say that it’s completely taboo for a man to work for this type of group. But when Mats worked here, we had an equal number of men and women on staff – two women and two men – and that was exactly what I had in mind when I started the Refuge. It hasn’t always been easy though.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Paula. This was all new to her; she’d never had any real contact with crisis services for women.

‘It’s an extremely controversial issue, and each side of the argument has its staunch supporters. The ones who insist that men should be kept out are of the opinion that women need a male-free zone after everything they’ve endured. Others, like myself, think that’s the wrong way to go. I believe that men have a role to play in women’s groups. There are men in the world, after all, and keeping them out creates a false sense of security. Moreover there’s tremendous value in showing that there are other kinds of men than the ones these women have had to deal with all their lives. It’s important to show that good men do exist. That’s why I’ve gone against the flow and chosen to be the first women’s crisis group to have both male and female employees.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Of course this means that the men we take on must undergo a thorough background check. We need to have total confidence in them.’

‘And you had confidence in Mats?’ asked Patrik.

‘He was the good friend of my nephew. For a couple of years they spent a lot of time together, so I met Matte on many occasions. He told me he was dissatisfied with his job and that he was looking for something more. And when he heard about the work of the Refuge, he got all fired up and succeeded in convincing me that he was the right person for the job. He really wanted to help people, and he had that opportunity here.’

‘Why did he quit?’ Patrik asked, looking at Leila. He registered a flicker in her eyes, but the next second it was gone.

‘He wanted to move on. And after he was assaulted, he started thinking about returning home. That’s not uncommon. He was badly injured. You know that, don’t you?’

‘Yes. We talked to the doctor at Sahlgrenska Hospital,’ said Patrik.

Leila took a deep breath. ‘Why have you come here to ask questions about Matte? It was months ago that he left.’

‘Has anyone been in touch with him since then?’ asked Patrik, ignoring her question.

‘No. We didn’t socialize outside of work, so we lost touch after he left. But now I really want to know why you’re asking all these questions.’ Her voice rose slightly, and her hands were clasped on top of her desk.

‘Mats was found dead the day before yesterday. Shot.’

Leila gasped. ‘That can’t be true.’

‘I’m afraid it is,’ said Patrik. Leila’s face had turned white, and he wondered whether he ought to go and get her a glass of water.

She swallowed hard, trying to pull herself together, but her voice shook as she asked ‘Why? Do you have any idea why?’

‘At this point we’re dealing with an unknown perpetrator.’ Patrik heard himself, as usual, switch to dry police jargon, which he did whenever the situation became emotionally charged.

‘Is there any connection to …?’ Leila was too shaken to complete the sentence.

‘At the moment we don’t know,’ Paula told her. ‘We’re simply trying to find out more about Mats. To find out whether there was anyone in his life who had a motive for killing him.’

‘Running an organization of this kind,’ said Patrik, ‘I assume that you’re accustomed to receiving threats.’

‘Yes, we are,’ said Leila. ‘Although the threats are usually directed at the women rather than at us. Besides, Mats dealt primarily with the financial side of things, so he was the contact staff member for only a handful of women. And as I said, he left more than three months ago. I have a hard time seeing why …’

‘You don’t recall any incidents from the time he was working here? Was there any situation that stands out, any threat directed specifically at him?’

Again Patrik thought he saw a flash in her eyes, but it vanished so swiftly that he assumed he must have imagined it.

‘No, not really. Matte mostly worked in the background. He took care of the account books. Debits and credits.’

‘How much contact did he have with the women who sought help from your group?’ asked Paula.

‘Very little. He mainly dealt with administrative issues.’ Stunned by the news of Mats’s death, Leila could only stare at Patrik and Paula in bewilderment.

‘Then I don’t think we have any further questions at this time,’ said Patrik. He put one of his business cards on Leila’s orderly desk. ‘If you or anyone else happens to think of anything, don’t hesitate to give me a call.’

Leila nodded and picked up his card. ‘Absolutely.’

After they said goodbye, the heavy steel door fell shut behind them.

‘What do you think?’ asked Patrik quietly as they went down the stairs.

‘I think she’s hiding something,’ said Paula.

‘I do too.’

Patrik had a grim expression on his face. They were going to have to take a closer look at the Refuge.