The Lost Boy

10

2

It was a brilliantly sunny Friday morning. Erica turned over in bed and put her arm around Patrik. He had come home late. By then she had already gone to bed and managed only to mutter a sleepy ‘Hi’ before she fell asleep again. But now she was awake, and she felt such a longing for him, for his body and the sort of intimacy that had occurred far too seldom during the past few months. She sometimes wondered when they’d find their way back to it. These years were passing much too quickly. Everyone had told her that the early childhood years were especially tough, that they could be hard on a marriage, and that it might be difficult for a wife and husband to feel close to one another. Now that she was in the midst of it all, she agreed, but only partially. Of course things had been hard when Maja was a baby. But her relationship with Patrik hadn’t changed for the worse since the twins were born. After the accident the bond between them had grown stronger than ever, and she knew that nothing could tear them apart. But she missed the intimacy. It was something they just didn’t get around to, what with all the nappies that had to be changed, the meals that had to be cooked, and the constant chore of dropping off and picking up their daughter at day-care.

Patrik lay with his back to her. She crept close to him. It was one of the rare mornings she had woken of her own accord rather than because a child was crying. She pressed closer, sliding her hand inside his underwear. Slowly she began stroking him, feeling his response. Patrik still hadn’t moved, but she could hear his breathing change and knew that he was awake. He was breathing harder. She was enjoying the warm feeling that spread through her body. Patrik turned over to face her. As they looked into each other’s eyes, she felt a tingling in her stomach. Gently he began kissing her throat. She uttered a faint moan as she stretched her neck so that he could reach the spot behind her ear that was so sensitive.

Their hands began wandering, and he slipped off his underwear. She quickly removed the T-shirt she slept in and with a giggle pulled off her knickers.

‘It’s been a while,’ murmured Patrik as he continued to nibble the back of her neck, making her squirm.

‘Mmmm, I think we need a little more practice.’ Erica ran her fingertips along his spine. Patrik turned her over on her back and was just about to lie down on top of her when a familiar sound issued from the room across the hall.

‘Waaaaa!’ A shrill voice followed by another, and then they heard feet padding along the hall. Maja was standing in the doorway with her thumb in her mouth and her favourite doll under her arm.

‘The babies are crying,’ she said with a frown on her face. ‘Get up, Mamma. Get up, Pappa.’

‘Okay, okay, we’re coming, you little munchkin.’ With a heavy sigh Patrik rolled out of bed. He quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and headed for the nursery after casting an apologetic glance at Erica.

The lovemaking was over for the day. She pulled on her jogging suit, which lay on the floor next to the bed, and then followed Maja downstairs to the kitchen to make breakfast for them, and prepare bottles of formula for the twins. Her body was still warm, but the tingling feeling had vanished.

But when she looked up and saw Patrik coming down the stairs holding a newly awakened baby in each arm, she felt the tingling again. She really loved that husband of hers.

‘We didn’t come up with anything particularly useful,’ said Patrik when everyone was present. ‘On the other hand, there are some new questions that we need to answer.’

‘So you didn’t find out any more about the assault?’ asked Martin, looking disappointed.

‘No, according to the police there were no witnesses to the attack. The only thing they had to go on was Mats Sverin’s own statement that he didn’t know the group of kids who assaulted him.’

‘You don’t sound too convinced by that,’ said Martin.

‘We discussed it on the way home,’ said Paula. ‘We both had the feeling that there’s more to the story, so we need to do some digging.’

‘Are you sure that wouldn’t be a waste of time?’ asked Mellberg.

‘I can’t guarantee it, but we think it would be worth our while taking a closer look,’ said Patrik.

‘What did you find out at Sverin’s former workplace?’ asked Gösta.

‘Nothing much of interest there either. At least, not directly. But we plan to keep that avenue open too. We talked to the director of the organization, and she seemed upset to hear of Mats’s death, but she wasn’t … how should I put it?’

‘She didn’t seem terribly surprised,’ Paula interjected.

‘Another of your feelings?’ said Mellberg, sighing heavily. ‘Bear in mind that the station has limited resources. We can’t be running off in all directions and doing whatever we like. Personally, I think it’s a waste of effort to be sniffing around the victim’s life in Göteborg. My long experience on the force has taught me that the answer is often to be found closer to home. For example, have we taken a good hard look at his parents? I take it you’re all aware of the statistics – most murders are committed by a relative or someone close to the victim.’

‘Yes, well, in this case I don’t consider Gunnar and Signe Sverin to be at the top of our list of candidates.’ Patrik restrained himself from rolling his eyes.

‘I don’t think that they should be ruled out so quickly. You never can tell what secrets a family might be hiding.’

‘True, but in this particular instance, I don’t agree.’ Patrik crossed his arms as he leaned against the kitchen counter and swiftly changed the subject. ‘Martin and Annika, did you come up with anything?’

‘No, everything seems in order. There’s nothing out of the ordinary about Mats Sverin in the public records. He never married, and he’s not listed as the father of any children. After he moved away from Fjällbacka, he was registered at three different addresses in Göteborg. The last one was on Erik Dahlbergsgatan. The lease on that flat was still in his name, but he had sublet it to another tenant. He had taken out two loans: a student loan and a car loan. Nothing unusual about the payments. He’d owned a Toyota Corolla for the past four years.’ Martin paused to consult his notes. ‘His employment record matches the information we already have. He was never convicted of any sort of crime. That’s as much as we’ve been able to find out. Judging by the public records, Sverin seems to have led a completely normal life with nothing remarkable to report.’

Annika nodded her agreement. They had hoped to find more, but this was all they’d been able to track down.

‘Okay, at least we know that much,’ said Patrik. ‘But we still need to search Sverin’s flat. Who knows what we might find there?’

Gösta cleared his throat. Patrik gave him an enquiring look.

‘Yes?’

‘Er, well …’ Gösta began.

Patrik frowned. It was never a good sign when Gösta cleared his throat.

‘What are you trying to say?’ Patrik wasn’t sure he really wanted to know, since his colleague was obviously having a hard time spitting out the words. When Gösta cast an entreating glance at Mellberg, Patrik felt his stomach lurch. Gösta and Bertil did not make a good combination.

‘The thing is … Torbjörn phoned yesterday while you were in Göteborg.’ Gösta fell silent, swallowing hard.

‘Yes?’ Patrik repeated. He had to stop himself from stepping forward to shake the words out of the man.

‘Torbjörn turned over the flat to us yesterday. And we know how you hate to waste time, so Bertil and I thought we might as well go over there and have a look around.’

‘You did what?’ Patrik grabbed hold of the edge of the counter, forcing himself to breathe calmly. He remembered all too well the feeling of pressure in his chest, and he knew that under no circumstances should he allow himself to get upset.

‘There’s no reason to react that way,’ said Mellberg. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the boss of this station. Which means that I’m your superior officer, and I made the decision to go over to the flat.’

Though Patrik realized that Bertil was right, that didn’t make it any easier to bear. Mellberg might be the official police chief, but in reality Patrik had undertaken that role ever since Mellberg had arrived at the station when he was transferred from Göteborg.

‘What did you find?’ he asked after a moment.

‘Not much,’ Mellberg admitted.

‘The flat felt more like a temporary residence than somebody’s home,’ said Gösta. ‘There were hardly any personal possessions. In fact, I’d say none.’

‘Seems a bit odd,’ said Patrik.

‘His laptop is missing,’ Mellberg added, as he scratched Ernst behind the ear.

‘His laptop?’

Patrik’s irritation grew. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Of course Mats Sverin would have a laptop, and it should have been one of the first things he asked the crime-scene techs about. He silently cursed himself.

‘How can you be certain that it’s missing?’ he went on. ‘Maybe it’s at the office. Maybe he didn’t have a computer at home.’

‘Apparently he had only one computer,’ said Gösta. ‘And we found a cord for a laptop in the kitchen. Plus Erling has confirmed that Sverin had a laptop that he used for work and usually took home with him.’

‘So you’ve had another talk with Erling?’

Gösta nodded. ‘I went over there yesterday after we were done at the flat. He seemed concerned that the computer is missing.’

‘I wonder if the killer took it. And if so, why?’ said Martin. ‘By the way, has anyone found Sverin’s mobile phone? Has that disappeared too?’

Patrik swore again. Yet another thing that he’d missed.

‘Maybe there’s something on his computer that might reveal a motive for the murder or who the killer is,’ said Mellberg. ‘If we can just locate the computer, we’ll have the whole case sewn up.’

‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,’ said Patrik. ‘We have no idea where the laptop might be, or who could have taken it. But we definitely need to locate it, as well as his mobile. Until then, let’s not jump to conclusions.’

‘If we ever find it,’ said Gösta. Then his face lit up. ‘Erling said that Sverin was concerned about something in the accounts. He was going to meet with a man named Anders Berkelin, who’s in charge of finances at Badis. Maybe he has the laptop. They were working together on the project, so it’s possible that Sverin left the computer with him.’

‘Gösta, I want you and Paula to drive over there and have a talk with him. Martin and I will go to the flat. I want to take a look around. And we’re supposed to get Torbjörn’s report sometime today, aren’t we?’

‘That’s right,’ Annika told him.

‘Okay, then. And Bertil, you’ll take charge of things here?’

‘Of course,’ said Mellberg. ‘That goes without saying. And you haven’t forgotten what’s happening tomorrow, have you?’

‘Tomorrow?’ Everyone turned to give him an enquiring look.

‘It’s the VIP event at Badis. We’re invited, remember – and we have to be there at eleven o’clock.’

‘Do we really have time for that now?’ said Patrik. ‘I assumed it had been cancelled since we have more important matters to think about at the moment.’

‘What’s best for the town and the surrounding area has always been our top priority.’ Mellberg stood up. ‘We are role models for the community, and our participation in local projects is of paramount importance. So I’ll expect to see all of you at Badis tomorrow morning at eleven.’

A resigned murmur passed through the room. They knew it was pointless arguing with Mellberg. And a couple of hours spent getting a massage and being pampered, body and soul, might do miracles for their energy level at work.

‘Bloody stairs.’ Gösta stopped halfway up.

‘We could have driven to the other side and parked in front of Badis instead,’ said Paula as she paused to wait for him.

‘Why didn’t you mention that earlier?’ He took a couple of deep breaths before continuing. He hadn’t managed to play enough rounds of golf this year to get himself in shape. Reluctantly he also had to acknowledge that age was beginning to take its toll.

‘Patrik wasn’t exactly thrilled that you went to the flat.’ They had avoided the topic on the way over, but Paula could no longer resist bringing it up.

Gösta snorted. ‘If I remember correctly, Hedström is not head of the station.’

Paula didn’t reply, and after a moment of silence Gösta sighed.

‘Okay, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to go there without first talking to Patrik. Sometimes it’s hard for us old guys to accept that a new generation has taken over. We have experience and seniority on our side, but that doesn’t seem to mean anything.’

‘I think you underestimate yourself. Patrik always has positive things to say about you. But as far as Mellberg is concerned, well …’

‘He does?’ Gösta sounded happily surprised, and Paula hoped that he wouldn’t see through her white lie. Gösta didn’t often contribute to their work, and Patrik didn’t exactly shower him with praise. But he was nice enough, and he meant well. It wouldn’t do any harm to give him a little encouragement.

‘Mellberg is definitely in a class by himself,’ said Gösta, stopping again as they reached the top of the long flight of stairs. ‘So now let’s see what these people are like. I’ve heard a lot about this project, but I reckon it takes a particular breed to be willing to team up with Erling.’ He shook his head and then turned his back to Badis and gazed out across the water. It was another beautiful early summer day, and there was barely a ripple in the bay near Fjällbacka. Here and there some sparse vegetation was visible, but the grey rocks dominated. ‘All I can say is this is a damned spectacular view,’ said Gösta, sounding unusually philosophical.

‘Yes, it’s great, isn’t it? Badis certainly has an unbeatable location. It’s strange that it was allowed to fall into such disrepair for so long.’

‘It was a matter of money. It must have cost millions to fix up the place, given the state of the building. And the renovation isn’t half bad. Question is, how much of the bill are we going to be paying in taxes?’

‘Now you sound more like your old self, Gösta. I was starting to worry.’ Paula smiled and headed towards the entrance. She was impatient to get to work.

‘Hello?’ Once inside, they called out several times and after a few minutes a tall, nondescript man came to greet them. His blond hair was cut in the appropriate style, his designer glasses were the appropriate type, and his handshake was firm. It occurred to Paula that she’d have trouble recognizing him again if she ran into him on the street.

‘We spoke to you on the phone,’ she said after they did the introductions. They sat down at one of the tables in the dining room where documents were spread out next to a laptop computer.

‘Nice office,’ she said, looking around the room.

‘I’ve also got a cubbyhole back there,’ said Anders Berkelin, gesturing vaguely with his hand. ‘But I work better in here. It seems less confining. As soon as the place opens for business, I’ll probably have to crawl back into my hole.’ He smiled, and even his smile was perfectly appropriate.

‘I understand that you wanted to ask me some questions about Mats.’ He closed the laptop and looked at them. ‘It’s just so awful.’

‘Yes, he seems to have been well-liked,’ said Paula, opening her notebook. ‘Did you work together on Project Badis from the very beginning?’

‘No, only since he was hired by the local council a few months ago. Before that, things were a bit messy over there, so we had to take on a lot of the burden ourselves. Mats was like manna from heaven.’

‘Presumably it took him a while to get up to speed. A project like this must be very complicated.’

‘Well, it’s not really all that complicated. There are two financial backers. The local council and the two of us – my sister and myself. We share the expenses equally and we’ll also be sharing the profits.’

‘And how long do you estimate it will take before the place is profitable?’ asked Paula.

‘We’ve tried to be as realistic as possible with our calculations. There’s no point in building castles in the air, so to speak. We estimate that it’ll be about four years before we reach the “break-even point”,’ he said, using the English term.

‘Break-even?’ said Gösta.

‘The point when all the costs have been paid off,’ Paula clarified.

‘Oh, right,’ Gösta muttered, embarrassed at his lack of familiarity with English. He’d picked up a lot of phrases from the golf tournaments he watched on the sports channel, but the terms he’d learned weren’t much use outside of golf.

‘What sort of things did you and Mats work on together?’ asked Paula.

‘My sister and I are in charge of all the practical matters here. We’ve coordinated the renovation work, hired the staff, and basically taken responsibility for creating the business. Then we’ve billed the local council for its share of the expenses. It was Mats’s job to keep tabs on the account books and make sure the bills were paid. In addition, we’ve also had an ongoing discussion about project expenses and income. The council has also had a large say in things.’ Anders pushed his glasses up. It was hard to see his eyes behind the lenses.

‘Did you have any disagreements?’ Paula was taking notes as they talked, and one page was already nearly filled with illegible scrawls.

‘That depends on what you mean by disagreement.’ Anders clasped his hands on the table. ‘We didn’t agree on everything, but Mats and I enjoyed a good and constructive dialogue, even if we didn’t always see eye to eye.’

‘And no one else had any problems with him?’ asked Gösta.

‘On the project?’ Anders looked as if the idea was absurd. ‘No, absolutely not. Nothing beyond the differences of opinion that he and I had over certain details. Nothing that was so serious it would … No, definitely not.’ He shook his head vigorously.

‘According to Erling Larson, Mats was going to drop by here last Friday to talk to you about something that was worrying him. Did he do that?’ asked Paula.

‘Yes. Mats was here for a short time. He stayed about half an hour. But I think it’s an exaggeration to say that he was worried. There were a few numbers that didn’t add up, and the projections needed to be adjusted slightly, but that’s not so strange. We straightened it all out in no time.’

‘Is there anyone here who can confirm what you’ve just told us?’

‘No, I was the only one here at the time. He arrived rather late. Around five o’clock. I think he came straight from work.’

‘Do you recall whether he had his laptop with him?’

‘Mats always had his laptop with him, so I can be fairly sure that he did. Yes, that’s right. I remember that he brought his briefcase along.’

‘And he didn’t leave it here?’ asked Paula.

‘No. I would have noticed if he did. Why? Is his laptop missing?’ Anders gave them a nervous look.

‘We don’t know yet,’ said Paula. ‘But if it should turn up, we’d be grateful if you’d contact us at once.’

‘Of course. But as I said, he didn’t leave it here, at any rate. And we’d be quite concerned if his computer really has disappeared. It contains sensitive information about Project Badis.’ Again he pushed up his glasses.

‘I understand.’ Paula got up, and Gösta took that as a signal to do the same. ‘Give us a call if anything else occurs to you.’ She handed Anders her card, which he put in a card holder that he took out of his pocket.

‘I’ll do that,’ he said. He kept his pale blue eyes fixed on the two officers as they headed for the door.

What if they found her and Sam here? Strangely enough, the thought hadn’t occurred to Nathalie until now. Gråskär had always been such a safe place, and only now did she realize that they could find her here if they wanted to.

The shots were still loud in her memory. They had echoed through the silence of the night, and then everything was quiet once again. And she had fled, taking Sam and leaving chaos and devastation behind. Leaving Fredrik.

The people he’d had dealings with could easily track her down. At the same time, she knew that she’d had no choice other than to come here and wait to be found or to be forgotten. They knew that she was weak. In their eyes she had been nothing more than Fredrik’s accessory, a beautiful jewel, a shadow who discreetly made sure that their glasses were filled and the humidor was never empty. For them she hadn’t been a real person, and now that might be to her advantage. There was no reason to chase down shadows.

Nathalie went out into the sunlight, trying to convince herself that she was safe. But the doubts lingered. She walked around the corner of the house, gazing out at the water, past the islands to the mainland. One day a boat might appear, and then she and Sam would be caught here like rats in a cage. She sat down on the bench, hearing how it creaked under her weight. The wind and the salt had taken a toll on the wood, and the old bench leaned wearily against the wall of the house. There were many things on the island that needed attention. On the other hand, some of the flowers kept coming up in the flowerbeds. The hollyhocks were the ones she remembered best. When she was little and her mother tenderly tended the flowers, the hollyhocks had filled the entire back row. Now only a few lonely stocks had come up, and it remained to be seen what colour they would be. The roses hadn’t yet bloomed, but she was hoping it would be the ones that she loved most, the light pink variety, that had survived. But all of her mother’s herbs had long since perished. Only a few strands of chives bore witness to the fact that at one time a herb garden had thrived there, so delightfully fragrant whenever she had run her hand through the plants.

She got up and looked in the window. Sam was lying on his side, with his face turned away from her. He slept for a long time in the mornings now, and she had no reason to make him get out of bed. Maybe he needed to sleep and dream in order to heal what had been damaged.

Quietly she sat back down. The restlessness in her body was slowly calmed by the steady sound of the water lapping against the rocks. They were on Gråskär Island, she was a shadow, and no one was going to find them. They were safe.

‘Couldn’t Mamma do it today?’ Patrik sounded disappointed. He was talking on his mobile as he took the tight curve near Mörhult, driving too fast.

‘Tomorrow afternoon? Well, I suppose it can’t be helped. It’ll have to wait until tomorrow then. Hugs. See you later.’

He ended the call, and Martin gave him an enquiring look.

‘I was thinking of taking Erica with me to talk to Sverin’s old girlfriend, Nathalie Wester. According to his parents, Mats was planning to go and see her, but they don’t know if he ever did.’

‘Couldn’t you just phone her and ask?’

‘Yes, I suppose I could. But I usually get better results meeting someone face to face, and I want to talk to as many people as possible who knew Mats, even if it was long ago. He’s a mystery. I need to know more.’

‘And why should Erica go with you?’ Martin gratefully climbed out of the vehicle in the car park in front of the block of flats.

‘She went to school with Nathalie. And Mats.’

‘Oh, that’s right. I heard about that. So it’s probably a good idea if she goes with you. She might make Nathalie feel more at ease.’

They walked up the stairs and stopped at the door to Mats Sverin’s flat.

‘I hope Mellberg and Gösta haven’t made too much of a mess,’ said Martin.

‘We can always hope.’ Patrik had no illusions that his colleagues had been particularly careful. Not Mellberg, at any rate. Gösta could sometimes rise to the occasion and prove to be quite competent.

They stepped cautiously around the patches of dried blood in the hall.

‘Somebody is going to have to deal with this eventually,’ said Martin.

‘I’m afraid that’s going to be the job of the victim’s parents. I hope they can find someone to help them. No one should have to clean up their own child’s blood.’

Patrik went into the kitchen.

‘Here’s the computer cable that Gösta was talking about. I wonder whether Gösta and Paula have found the laptop by now. They probably would have phoned if they had.’ He was thinking aloud.

‘Why would Sverin have left it at Badis?’ said Martin. ‘No, I’ll bet it was the person who shot him who took the computer.’

‘It looks as if Torbjörn and his team have taken fingerprints from the cable, at any rate. If they got some good prints, maybe that will give us a lead.’

‘A killer who was careless, you mean?’

‘Luckily there seem to be plenty who fall into that category.’

‘But they seem to be getting more careful since TV started showing those forensics crime shows. Seems like every petty thief now knows the basics about fingerprints and DNA.’

‘That’s true, but there will always be idiots in the world.’

‘Then let’s hope that it’s an idiot we’re dealing with here.’ Martin went back to the hall and continued on to the living room. ‘I see what Gösta meant,’ he called.

Patrik stayed where he was, standing in the middle of the kitchen.

‘About what?’

‘About this place feeling like a temporary residence. It’s very impersonal. Nothing that says anything about who he was. No photos, no knick-knacks, and nothing but reference books on the shelf.’

‘Like I said: he’s a mystery.’ Patrik came into the living room.

‘Hmmm, maybe he was just a very private person. Why should that be so mysterious? Some people are more reserved than others, and I don’t find it so strange that he didn’t discuss girlfriends and personal matters at the office.’

‘That’s not the only thing though,’ said Patrik, slowly walking around the room. ‘He doesn’t seem to have had any friends. His flat is extremely impersonal, as you said yourself. And he didn’t tell anyone about the terrible beating he suffered …’

‘You don’t have proof of that last statement, do you?’

‘No, I don’t. But something’s not right. Besides, he was found shot to death in his own front hall. I mean, your average person doesn’t end up getting shot like that. The stereo and TV are still here, so if it was a burglary, we’re dealing with a thief who was very stupid or very lazy.’

‘The laptop is missing,’ Martin reminded Patrik as he pulled out a drawer from the TV stand.

‘Yes, but … I have a gut feeling about this.’ Patrik went into the bedroom and started looking around. Everything Martin had said was true. There was no evidence to support the churning feeling in his gut, the sense that below the surface there was another layer to Mats Sverin that needed to be brought to light.

They spent an hour meticulously going through everything, only to arrive at the same conclusion that Gösta and Mellberg had reached on the previous day. There was nothing here. The flat might as well have been an IKEA room set. Except that even those were more personal than Mats Sverin’s home.

‘Shall we go?’ said Patrik with a sigh.

‘Yes. There’s not much else we can do. Let’s hope that Torbjörn’s come up with something useful.’

Patrik locked the door to the flat. He’d been hoping to find a lead that they could pursue. So far all he had were vague suspicions, and not even he was prepared to act on those alone.

‘Lunch at Lilla Berith?’ asked Martin as they got in the car.

‘That sounds good,’ replied Patrik without enthusiasm, backing the vehicle out of the car park.

Vivianne quietly opened the door to the dining room and went over to Anders. He didn’t look up. He was typing rapidly on the computer keyboard.

‘What did they want?’ She sat down across from him, on the chair where Paula had been sitting. It was still warm.

‘They asked about Mats and the work we did together. They wondered whether his laptop was here.’ He didn’t look up.

‘What did you tell them?’ She leaned across the table.

‘As little as possible. I said we had a good working relationship, and that his laptop wasn’t here.’

‘Is this …’ She hesitated. ‘Is this going to affect us in any way?’

Anders shook his head and for the first time looked at his sister.

‘Not if we don’t let it. He was here last Friday. We talked for a while and resolved a few questions. When we were done, he left, and none of us has seen him since. That’s all they need to know.’

‘You make it sound so simple,’ said Vivianne. She felt apprehension well up inside her. Apprehension and questions that she didn’t dare ask.

‘It is simple.’ He spoke tersely, not letting his voice reveal any emotion. But Vivianne knew her brother all too well. She knew that in spite of the steady gaze of his blue eyes behind his glasses, he was worried. However much he tried not to show it.

‘Is this worth it?’ she asked at last.

He looked at her in surprise.

‘That’s what I tried to talk to you about the other day, but you refused to listen.’

‘I know.’ She raised her hand and wrapped a lock of blond hair around her index finger. ‘I don’t really have any doubts; I just wish that it was over so we could finally have some peace and quiet.’

‘Do you think we’ll ever have that? Maybe we’re so damaged that we’ll never find what we’re looking for.’

‘Don’t say that,’ she told him fiercely.

He had spoken the forbidden words that sometimes came to her in weak moments, the words that crept in when she was lying in bed in the dark, on the verge of sleep.

‘We’re not going to say or think such a thing,’ she repeated firmly. ‘We’ve drawn all the short straws in life, we’ve had to fight for everything, nothing has ever been free. We deserve this.’ She stood up so abruptly that her chair fell over backwards and landed on the floor with a bang. Leaving it there, she fled to the kitchen, needing to occupy her brain so it wouldn’t start dwelling on other matters. With shaking hands she began rifling through the refrigerator and pantry to make sure they had everything they needed for tomorrow’s pre-dedication events.

Mette, who lived in the next flat, had been nice enough to offer to look after the kids for a couple of hours. Madeleine didn’t have any specific plans; unlike most people, her life wasn’t filled with all the errands and chores that she so longed to make part of her days. She simply needed some time for herself.

She strolled along Strøget, Copenhagen’s pedestrian street, heading towards Kongens Nytorv. All the shops were brimming with enticing summertime wares. Clothes, swimsuits, sunhats, sandals, jewellery, and beach toys. Everything that normal people, with normal lives, could buy without realizing how fortunate they were. That didn’t mean she was ungrateful. On the contrary, she was extremely happy to find herself in a foreign city that was able to offer her something she hadn’t experienced in so many years. Safety. Usually knowing they were safe was enough, but occasionally, like today, she longed so desperately just to be like everyone else. She didn’t want to have luxuries or to buy lots of useless items that cluttered up the cupboards, but she would have liked to be able to afford little everyday things, to go into a shop and buy herself a swimsuit because she was going to take the children swimming on the weekend. Or to go to a toyshop and buy a Spiderman duvet cover for Kevin, because she thought he might sleep better if he shared his bed with his hero. Instead, she had to search her pockets for enough Danish kroner to catch the bus into town. There was nothing normal about that, but at least she was safe. Even though so far only her brain was certain of that – not her heart.

She went into the Illum department store and headed straight for the pastry shop with its wonderful aroma of baking and chocolate. She practically started drooling when she caught sight of the Wienerbrød with chocolate in the centre. She and her children weren’t starving, although the neighbours must have noticed what their situation was like, because sometimes they brought over dinner, with the excuse that they’d made too much food for their own families. She really couldn’t complain, but she would have loved to walk up to the counter, point at the Wienerbrød and say to the assistant: ‘Three of the ones with chocolate, please.’ Or even better: ‘Six pieces of Wienerbrød with chocolate, please.’ Then they could really gorge themselves, each of them greedily devouring two pastries and afterwards, feeling a bit stuffed, they would lick the chocolate off their fingers. That would be a real treat, especially for Vilda. She’d always been such a chocoholic. She even liked the chocolates filled with cherry liqueur that came in boxes of Aladdin sweets, the ones that everybody else refused to eat. Vilda would devour them with a delighted smile. He had always brought chocolates for Vilda and Kevin.

She pushed away these thoughts. She shouldn’t be thinking about him. If she did, the anxiety would get so bad that she wouldn’t be able to breathe. She hurried to the exit and continued on towards Nyhavn. As soon as she saw the water she could feel herself breathing easier. She fixed her gaze on the horizon as she passed the beautiful old harbour area, where the outdoor cafés were now filling with customers, and the proud owners of the boats lining the docks were busily sweeping and polishing their vessels. Across the water was Sweden and the city of Malmö. Boats left nearly every hour, but the trip could also be made by car or train across the bridge. Sweden was so close, and yet so far away. It was possible that they’d never go back. Her throat closed up at the thought. She’d been surprised by how much she missed her homeland. She hadn’t really gone very far, and Denmark was deceptively similar to Sweden. But there were so many things that were different, and her friends and family weren’t here. And there was no way of knowing whether she’d ever see them again.

She turned away from the water, hunched her shoulders, and slowly walked back to town. She was lost in her own thoughts when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Panic instantly overwhelmed her. Had they found her? Had he found her? With a scream she turned around, ready to hit, scratch, and bite – whatever it took. A man with an alarmed expression was looking at her.

‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’ The stout, elderly man was so taken aback by her reaction he looked as if he was going to have a heart attack. ‘You dropped your scarf, and you didn’t hear me when I called.’

‘Sorry, I’m really sorry,’ she stammered. Then she began to sob, which alarmed the man even more.

Without another word, she fled, running for the nearest bus, which she knew would take her home. She had to get back to her kids. She had to feel their arms around her neck and their warm bodies pressed against her own. That was the one thing that made her feel safe.

‘Torbjörn’s report is in,’ said Annika as soon as Patrik and Martin came in the door.

Patrik was so full that he could hardly breathe. He’d eaten way too much pasta for lunch at the Lilla Berith restaurant.

‘Where is it?’ he asked as he strode through the reception area and yanked open the door to the corridor.

‘On your desk,’ Annika told him.

He hurried towards his office, with Martin in tow.

‘Have a seat,’ Patrik said, pointing to the chair in front of his desk. He dropped on to his own chair and began reading the documents that Annika had left for him.

Martin looked as if he wanted to rip the pages from his colleague’s hands.

‘What does it say?’ he asked after a couple of minutes, but Patrik merely waved his hand dismissively and continued reading. After what felt like an unbearably long time, he put down the report, looking disappointed.

‘Nothing?’ queried Martin.

‘Well, nothing new, at any rate.’ Patrik sighed, leaned back, and clasped his hands behind his head.

For a moment neither of them spoke.

‘No clues whatsoever?’ Even as Martin asked the question, he knew what the answer would be.

‘You can read the report yourself, but it doesn’t seem like it. Strangely enough, the only fingerprints inside the flat belonged to Mats Sverin. There were other prints on the front-door handle and the bell outside. Presumably some of them belong to Signe and Gunnar. There was also a different set of prints on the door handle inside, so they might belong to the killer. If so, we can use them to link an eventual suspect to the crime scene, but since the fingerprints aren’t on our database, they’re of no use at the moment.’

‘Okay. So that’s that. We’ll just have to hope that Pedersen has something more for us in the post-mortem report on Wednesday,’ said Martin.

‘I don’t really know what that could be. It appears to have been a simple matter of someone shooting Sverin in the back of the head and then leaving. The perpetrator doesn’t even seem to have entered the flat. Or if he did, he was careful to erase all traces.’

‘Did it say that in the report? Had the door handles been wiped clean?’ Martin sounded a tad more hopeful.

‘Good idea, but I don’t think …’ Patrik didn’t finish his sentence as he leafed through the report again. After scanning the pages, he shook his head. ‘Apparently not. Sverin’s fingerprints were on all the surfaces that you might expect: door handles, cupboard handles, the kitchen counter, and so on. Nothing seems to have been deliberately wiped clean.’

‘Which indicates that the murderer never went beyond the front hall.’

‘That’s right. And unfortunately that means that we still can’t establish whether Mats knew his killer. Whoever rang the bell could have been someone familiar to him, or a complete stranger.’

‘But he felt secure enough to turn his back on whoever it was that he’d let into the flat.’

‘I’m not so sure about that. He may have been trying to flee from the person who was at the door.’

‘True,’ said Martin. He paused, then said, ‘So what do we do now?’

‘That’s the question, isn’t it?’ Patrik stretched his back and ran a hand through his hair. ‘The search of the flat didn’t produce any results. The interviews we’ve done haven’t given us any leads. And the technical report hasn’t either. What’s more it’s unlikely that Pedersen will come up with anything significant. So what do we do now?’

It was unlike Patrik to be so despondent, but the lack of leads in this case was stalling the investigation. There must be something in Mats Sverin’s secret life that would account for his murder. Because not just anybody got himself shot in the head. Not just anybody got murdered in his own home. There had to be a motive, and Patrik refused to give up until he found out what it was.

‘I’d like you to go with me to Göteborg on Monday. We need to pay another visit to the Refuge,’ he said.

Martin’s face lit up.

‘Sure. I’d be delighted,’ he said as he got up. Patrik was almost ashamed to see how happy his colleague looked at being asked to come along. He realized that he’d been ignoring Martin a bit.

‘Take the report with you,’ he said before Martin headed for the door. ‘It’s best if you read it yourself, in case I missed some important detail.’

‘Okay.’ And he eagerly reached for the report.

After Martin had left the room, Patrik smiled to himself. At least he’d made one person happy today.

The hours passed so slowly. He and Signe moved about their home in silence. They had nothing to say to each other, hardly dared open their mouths for fear of releasing the scream hiding inside.

Gunnar had tried to get her to eat. It had always been Signe who fussed over him and Mats, saying that they weren’t eating enough. Now he was the one who fixed sandwiches and cut them up into small pieces, trying to persuade her to taste them. She did her best, but he could see how the bites of food seemed to swell in her mouth, and she could hardly choke them down. Finally he couldn’t take it any longer; he couldn’t stand seeing his own expression mirrored on her face on the other side of the kitchen table.

‘I’m going out to see to the boat. I won’t be gone long,’ he told her. She didn’t even seem to hear him.

Moving slowly, he put on his jacket. It was late afternoon, and the sun was low in the sky. He wondered whether he’d ever again find joy in a sunset. Whether he’d ever feel anything again.

The route he took through Fjällbacka was a familiar one, but at the same time it felt different. Nothing was the same. Even the mere act of walking seemed alien. Something that had previously felt so natural now seemed forced and contrived, as if he had to tell his brain to set one foot in front of the other. He regretted not taking the car. It was a relatively long walk from Mörhult, and he noticed that the people he encountered along the way were staring at him. Some even crossed to the opposite pavement if they thought he wasn’t looking, so they wouldn’t have to speak to him. They probably had no idea what to say. And Gunnar didn’t know how to respond if they did speak, so maybe it was best that they treated him like a leper.

Their boat was docked out by Badholmen. They’d had the berth for many years, and he automatically turned right to cross the small stone bridge. He was completely lost in his own world and didn’t notice anything until he had almost reached the berth. The boat was gone. Gunnar glanced around in confusion. It should have been here. It was always here. A small wooden motorboat with a blue canopy. He walked along the dock, all the way out to the end of the pontoon wharf. Maybe it had been moored in the wrong place for some reason that he couldn’t fathom. Or maybe it had got loose and drifted away among the other boats. Yet the sea had been calm, and Matte had always been so careful about tying up the boat properly. Gunnar walked back to the empty berth. Then he took out his mobile.

Patrik had just stepped in the door when Annika rang him at home. He clamped the phone between his right ear and shoulder so he could talk as he picked up Maja, who was eagerly jumping around him with her arms outstretched.

‘Sorry, what did you say? The boat is missing?’ He frowned. ‘Yes, I’m at home, but I can drive down there and have a look. No, it’s no problem. I’ll handle it.’

He set Maja down so he could press the button to end the call. Then he took her hand and led the way to the kitchen, where Erica was preparing two bottles, cheered on by the babies perched on the table in their carrycots. Patrik leaned down and gave each of his sons a kiss and then went over to kiss his wife too.

‘Hi. Who was on the phone?’ asked Erica, putting the bottles in the microwave.

‘Annika. I have to go out again, but only for a little while. It seems that Gunnar and Signe’s boat has been stolen.’

‘That’s awful.’ Erica turned around to look at Patrik. ‘Who would be wicked enough to do a thing like that?’

‘I have no idea. According to Gunnar, Mats was apparently the last person to use it, assuming he went out to visit Nathalie, that is. It seems odd that their boat would be the only one missing.’

‘Go on,’ she said, and then kissed him on the lips.

‘I’ll be back in no time,’ he told her, heading for the front door. Too late he realized that Maja would probably throw a minor fit if he rushed off immediately after coming home. Feeling guilty, he told himself that Erica would undoubtedly deal with the situation. And he’d be back soon.

Gunnar was waiting for him on Badholmen, standing on the other side of the stone bridge.

‘I can’t understand what could have happened to our boat,’ he said, lifting his cap to scratch his head.

‘It couldn’t have just drifted away, could it?’ asked Patrik. He followed Gunnar to the empty berth.

‘I can’t say for sure what happened. All I know is that the boat isn’t here,’ said Gunnar, shaking his head. ‘Matte was always so careful about tying it up. That was something I taught him when he was only a child. And we haven’t had any stormy weather to speak of lately, so I can’t believe that the boat tore away from its moorings.’ He shook his head again, even more emphatically. ‘Somebody must have stolen it. But I can’t understand what they’d want with an old dinghy like that.’

‘Hmm, well, I suppose it’d be worth a few kroner.’ Patrik squatted down. He ran his eyes over the berth, and then stood up again. ‘I’ll write up a report when I get back to the station. But we can start by having a word with the Coast Guard service. They’ll keep an eye out for it when they’re out in their boats making their rounds.’

Without another word Gunnar fell in behind Patrik as he set off across the bridge. In silence they walked the short distance around the boathouses to the Coast Guard offices. No one seemed to be there, and when Patrik tried the door, he found it locked. But then he noticed movement inside the MinLouis, the smallest of the Coast Guard vessels, and he went over and knocked on the window. A man appeared in the stern, and Patrik recognized Peter, who had helped them on that fateful day at sea when one of the female participants in the reality show Sodding Tanum was murdered.

‘Hello there. How can I help you?’ Peter smiled up at them, drying his hands on a towel.

‘We’re looking for a missing boat,’ said Patrik, pointing towards the empty berth. ‘It’s Gunnar’s boat. It’s not where it’s supposed to be, and we don’t know what happened to it. We were wondering if you could keep an eye out for it?’

‘Sure. I heard about what happened,’ said Peter quietly, giving Gunnar a nod. ‘Please accept my condolences. And of course we’d be happy to help. Do you think it might have got loose on its own? If so, it wouldn’t have gone very far. And it would probably drift towards land and not out to sea.’

‘No, we think it was stolen,’ said Patrik.

‘People can be vile sometimes.’ Peter shook his head. ‘It’s a wooden motorboat, right, Gunnar? With a blue or green canopy?’

‘Yes. It’s blue. And it says Sophia on the stern.’ He turned to Patrik. ‘I was in love with Sophia Loren when I was young. And when I met Signe, I thought she looked exactly like her. So I named the boat Sophia.’

‘Okay. At least now I know what to look for. I’ll be making my rounds in a while, and I promise to take a look for Sophia.’

‘Thanks,’ said Patrik. He looked at Gunnar and asked, ‘Are you sure that Mats was the last one to use the boat?’

‘Well, I can’t really be sure about that.’ Gunnar hesitated. ‘But he said that he wanted to go out and visit Nathalie, so I assumed that …’

‘If he didn’t borrow the boat, then when was the last time you saw it?’

Peter had gone back inside the cabin to continue working on his equipment, so Gunnar and Patrik were alone on the wharf.

‘In that case, it would probably have been last Wednesday. But we should just ask Nathalie. Haven’t you talked to her yet?’

‘We were planning to go out there tomorrow. I’ll ask her then.’

‘That’ll be good,’ said Gunnar, tonelessly. Then he gave a start. ‘Good Lord, that means that she doesn’t even know yet. We didn’t think about phoning her. We didn’t …’

Patrik placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

‘You and Signe have had other things on your mind. I’ll tell her when we go out to the island. Don’t worry.’

Gunnar nodded.

‘Can I give you a ride home?’ asked Patrik.

‘Yes, I’d be very grateful,’ said Gunnar, sighing with relief. Then he followed Patrik to his car. Neither of them spoke all the way out to Mörhult.