The Lost Boy

14

‘Hi, Annika. Paula has been trying to get hold of me, but now she’s not answering her phone.’ Patrik was standing outside the front door of the Refuge, pressing one finger to his left ear as he held the mobile to his right. The roar of the traffic was so loud that he had trouble hearing what Annika was saying.

‘What was that? The school? Wait, I couldn’t hear you. Cocaine? Okay, I got it. At the Uddevalla Hospital.’

‘What’s all that about?’ asked Martin.

‘Three second-graders in Fjällbacka found a bag of cocaine and ate some of the stuff.’ Patrik’s expression was grim as they walked towards the car.

‘Bloody hell. How are they doing?’

‘They’re in hospital, but apparently they’re going to be fine. Gösta and Paula are over there right now.’

Patrik got behind the wheel, and Martin took the passenger seat. They drove off, with Martin staring pensively out of the window.

‘Second-graders. We always think the kids are safe in school, especially in Fjällbacka, which doesn’t have the problems of a big city. And then it turns out that they’re not safe after all. This’ll scare the shit out of everybody.’

‘Yes, it’s not like when we were kids. Or at least, when I was a kid,’ Patrik said with a crooked smile. There really wasn’t much of an age difference between him and his colleague.

‘I think you could say the same about my school days,’ replied Martin. ‘Although by then we did have calculators instead of an abacus.’

‘Ha ha, very funny.’

‘Things were so uncomplicated back then. We had fun in the playground kicking a ball around. We got to be kids. Nowadays it feels as though everybody is in such a hurry to grow up. They all want to smoke and fuck and drink and do everything else between heaven and earth before they even start secondary school.’

‘I know what you mean,’ said Patrik, feeling a surge of anxiety in his chest. In the blink of an eye, it would be time for Maja to start school. And Martin was right: things weren’t the same as in their day. He didn’t even want to think about that. He wanted his daughter to remain a child as long as possible, and preferably live at home until she was forty. ‘But I don’t think cocaine is all that common,’ he said, mostly in an attempt to reassure himself.

‘No, it must have been a case of really bad luck. I’m glad they’re going to be okay. It could have turned out much, much worse.’

Patrik nodded.

‘Shall we drive over to the hospital?’ asked Martin, but Patrik turned the car towards the centre of Göteborg instead of heading for the E6.

‘I reckon Paula and Gösta can handle things on their own. I’ll give Paula a call to make sure, but while we’re here I’d like to have a talk with Mats’s tenant and the other neighbours in the building. It seems a waste of time to drive all the way back later when we can do it now.’

Patrik rang Paula. After a few minutes he ended the call.

‘They’ve got the situation under control, so we’ll stick to our plans here. We can stop at the hospital on our way home, if they’re still there.’

‘Good. Did she find out where the kids found the stuff?’

‘In a litter bin outside the block of flats where Mats Sverin lived.’

Martin didn’t say a word for a moment. Then he asked, ‘Do you think it’s related to the case?’

‘Who knows?’ Patrik shrugged. ‘The cocaine could belong to any number of people who live in that building. But it’s definitely interesting that it was found outside Sverin’s front door.’

Martin leaned forward to read the street signs. ‘Turn here. Erik Dahlbergsgatan. What number are we looking for?’

‘Forty-eight.’ Patrik slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting an old woman who was taking her time to cross the street. He waited impatiently for her to pass before he stepped on the accelerator again.

‘Take it easy,’ said Martin, leaning against the door.

‘There it is,’ replied Patrik, ignoring his comment. ‘Number forty-eight.’

‘I hope somebody’s home. Maybe we should have phoned ahead.’

‘We’ll ring the bell and hope we’re in luck.’

It was a lovely old brick building. The flats probably all had old-fashioned stucco work and hardwood floors.

‘What’s the name of the tenant?’ asked Martin when they reached the door.

Patrik took a slip of paper out of his pocket. ‘Jonsson. Rasmus Jonsson. And the flat is on the first floor.’

Martin nodded and pressed a button on the intercom. The nameplate next to it still said Sverin. He was rewarded almost immediately with a crackling sound.

‘Yes?’

‘We’re from the police. We’d like to talk to you. Would you mind letting us in?’ Martin spoke as distinctly as he could into the intercom.

‘What’s this about?’

‘We’ll explain when you let us in. Would you please unlock the door?’

There was a click on the intercom, and then the buzzing of the front door.

They walked up a flight of stairs, studying the nameplates on the doors.

‘Here it is,’ said Martin, pointing to the one on the left.

He rang the bell. When they heard footsteps approaching from inside, they both took a step back. The door opened, but the safety chain was still on. A young man in his twenties peered at them suspiciously.

‘Are you Rasmus Jonsson?’ asked Patrik.

‘Who wants to know?’

‘As we said, we’re from the police. We want to talk to you about Mats Sverin, the person who sublet you this flat.’

‘Is that so?’ His tone of voice bordered on impudence, and he still hadn’t removed the safety chain.

Patrik felt annoyance creeping over him, and he glared at the young man.

‘Either you let us in so we can have a quiet, friendly conversation. Or I make a few calls, and you’ll end up having your entire flat searched while you spend the rest of the day and maybe part of tomorrow down at the station.’

Martin glanced at his colleague. It wasn’t like Patrik to issue empty threats. They had no reason to search this flat or to take Jonsson in for questioning.

For several seconds no one spoke. Then the man unhooked the safety chain.

‘Fucking fascists,’ said Rasmus Jonsson, backing into the hall.

‘Wise decision,’ said Patrik.

There was a heavy scent of hash hovering over the flat, which explained why the young man had shown such reluctance to allow the police in. When they entered the living room they saw piles of anarchist literature and anti-establishment posters tacked up on the walls. Clearly they were in enemy territory.

‘Don’t get too comfortable. I’m studying, and I don’t have time for shit like this.’ Rasmus sat down at a small desk, which was cluttered with books and notepads.

‘What are you studying?’ asked Martin. They didn’t run into many anarchists in Tanumshede, and he was genuinely curious.

‘Political science,’ said Rasmus. ‘In order to get a better understanding of how we’ve ended up in this bloody mess, and how we can change society.’ He sounded as if he were lecturing first-graders, and Patrik stared at him in amusement. He wondered whether life and the passage of time would eventually alter this young man’s ideals.

‘Are you subletting this flat from Mats Sverin?’

‘Why are you asking?’ said Rasmus The sun shone through the living-room window, and Patrik realized that he was looking at someone who had the exact same shade of red hair as Martin. But Rasmus had chosen to grow a beard, so the impression was even more intense than with Martin.

‘I repeat: are you subletting this flat from Mats Sverin?’ Patrik spoke calmly, though he was beginning to lose patience.

‘Yes, that’s correct,’ Rasmus admitted reluctantly.

‘I’m sorry to tell you that Mats Sverin is dead. Murdered.’

Rasmus stared at him.

‘Murdered? What the hell do you mean? And what does this have to do with me?’

‘Nothing, hopefully. But we’re trying to find out more about Mats and his life.’

‘I don’t really know him, so I can’t be much help.’

‘Let us decide that,’ said Patrik. ‘Did you sublet the place furnished?’

‘Yes. Everything in the flat belongs to him.’

‘He didn’t take anything with him?’

Rasmus shrugged. ‘I don’t think so. He packed up anything that was personal in nature, like photographs and so on. But then he drove all of it to the rubbish dump. He said he wanted to get rid of the old junk.’

Patrik glanced around. There seemed to be as few personal belongings here as in the flat in Fjällbacka. They still had no idea why, but apparently Mats Sverin had wanted to make a fresh start. Patrik turned again to Rasmus.

‘How’d you get the flat?’

‘Through an advert. He needed to rent it out fast. Apparently he’d been assaulted and he wanted to leave town.’

‘Did he tell you anything about it?’ Martin interjected.

‘About what?’

‘The assault,’ said Martin patiently. The source of the sweet smell in the flat was obviously making the young student a bit foggy.

‘No, not really.’ Rasmus hesitated, which roused Patrik’s interest.

‘But …?’

‘But what?’ Rasmus began rocking the desk chair from side to side.

‘If you know anything about the attack on Mats, we’d appreciate hearing about it.’

‘I don’t cooperate with cops.’ His eyes narrowed.

Patrik took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down. This guy was really getting on his nerves.

‘My offer stands. A nice, calm conversation with us, or else we call in the troops – and that means the flat will be searched while you take a trip down to the station.’

Rasmus stopped rocking the chair. He sighed. ‘I didn’t see anything personally, so you’ve got nothing on me. But you should have a talk with old man Pettersson upstairs. He seems to have seen a lot.’

‘Why hasn’t he told the police?’

‘You’ll have to ask him. All I know is that there’s been talk in the building that the old guy knows something.’ Rasmus pressed his lips together, and they realized they’d had all they were going to get out of him.

‘Thanks for your help,’ said Patrik. ‘Here’s my card, in case you happen to think of anything else.’

Rasmus glanced at the card Patrik held out, then took it, holding it between his thumb and index finger, as if it smelled bad. Then he deliberately dropped it into the wastepaper basket.

Patrik and Martin were both relieved to go back out to the landing and leave the cloying smell of hash behind.

‘What a nasty piece of work.’ Martin shook his head.

‘I’m sure life will catch up with him some day,’ said Patrik, hoping that he wasn’t getting as cynical as he sounded.

They went upstairs and rang the bell next to the nameplate that said F. Pettersson. An elderly man opened the door.

‘What do you want?’ He sounded as cross as Rasmus. Patrik silently wondered if there was something in the water that was affecting the mood in this building. Everybody seemed to have got out of the wrong side of the bed.

‘We’re from the police, and we’d like to ask you a few questions about a previous tenant named Mats Sverin. He lived in the flat below.’ What with sullen anarchists and grumpy old men, Patrik’s patience was at breaking point. It took a real effort to stay calm.

‘Mats? Now that was a strange boy,’ said the man without showing any intention of letting them in.

‘He was assaulted outside the building before he moved away.’

‘The police have already been here to ask about that.’

The man leaned on his cane. Sensing indecision, Patrik moved a step closer.

‘We have reason to believe that you know more than you’ve told the police.’

Pettersson looked down and then motioned them inside with his head.

‘Come in,’ he said, shuffling along the hall to lead the way.

This flat was not only much brighter than the flat below, it was also much more pleasantly decorated, with classic furniture and paintings on the walls.

‘Have a seat,’ said the old man, pointing his cane at a sofa in the living room.

Patrik and Martin did as he said and then introduced themselves. They learned that the man’s first name was Folke.

‘I’m afraid I have nothing to offer in the way of refreshments,’ said Folke, his tone much less belligerent than before.

‘That’s okay. We’re actually in a bit of a hurry,’ said Martin.

‘As I was saying …’ Patrik cleared his throat. ‘From what we understand, you have information regarding what happened to Mats Sverin the night he was assaulted.’

‘Hmm … I’m not so sure about that,’ said Folke.

‘It’s important that you tell the truth this time. Because Mats has been murdered.’ The old man’s startled expression gave Patrik a moment’s petty satisfaction.

‘That can’t be right.’

‘Unfortunately, it is. And if you have anything to tell us about the assault, I’d appreciate hearing it now.’

‘It’s not good to get involved. There’s no knowing what those types might do,’ said Folke, placing his cane on the floor in front of him. He clasped his hands on his lap, suddenly looking very old and fragile.

‘What do you mean by “those types”? According to Mats’s own statement to the police, it was a bunch of young thugs who attacked him.’

‘Young thugs,’ snorted Folke. ‘Those weren’t young thugs! No, those were the sort of guys that you should never get mixed up with. I don’t understand how a nice boy like Mats would end up in their company.’

‘What do you mean by that, sir?’ asked Patrik. He suddenly found himself taking a more formal tone with the elderly gentleman.

‘Motorcyclists.’

‘Motorcyclists?’ Martin looked at Patrik in surprise.

‘The kind you read about in the papers. Like Hells Angels and the Bandits, or whatever they’re called.’

‘Bandidos,’ Patrik automatically corrected him as all sorts of thoughts began whirling through his mind. ‘If I understand you correctly, it wasn’t kids who assaulted Mats, it was a motorcycle gang?’

‘Yes, that’s what I said. Are you deaf, son?’

‘Why did you lie to the police and tell them that you hadn’t seen anything? I was told there were no witnesses to the incident.’ Patrik couldn’t hide his frustration. If only they’d known about this from the beginning.

‘It’s best to stay out of the way of those types,’ Folke stubbornly insisted. ‘It had nothing to do with me. I don’t like to get involved in other people’s business.’

‘So that’s why you said that you hadn’t seen anything?’ It was one of the things Patrik found hardest to accept: people who stood by and watched, then threw up their hands and said it wasn’t their concern.

‘It’s best to stay out of the way of those types,’ Folke repeated, but he couldn’t look them in the eye.

‘Did you see anything that might give us a lead as to who these guys were?’ asked Martin.

‘They had an eagle on their backs. A big, yellow eagle.’

‘Thank you,’ said Martin, and got up to shake the old man’s hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Patrik did the same.

A short time later they were on their way to Uddevalla. Both of them were deeply engrossed in their own thoughts.

Erica couldn’t wait any longer. After pulling herself together, she rang Kristina and asked her to babysit. And as soon as she heard her mother-in-law’s car door slam, she threw on her jacket, rushed outside, and drove towards Falkeliden. When she got there she remained sitting in the car for a long time. Maybe she ought to stay away for a while and leave them in peace. Anna’s brief phone message was a bit confusing. She might have misinterpreted what her sister had said.

Erica gripped the steering wheel as she sat there with the engine switched off. She didn’t want to make a mess of things. There had been occasions in the past when Anna had accused her of barging in and trying to meddle in her affairs. And often she was right. When they were growing up, Erica had wanted to compensate for what she thought was a lack of love from their mother. Now she knew better, and Anna did too. Elsy had loved them, but she hadn’t been capable of showing it. And the two sisters had grown close over the past few years, especially after all the trouble with Lucas.

At this moment, Erica wasn’t at all sure what to do. Anna had her own family, after all. Dan and the children. Maybe they needed to have her to themselves. Suddenly Erica caught sight of her sister in the kitchen window. She fluttered past like a ghost, then turned and peered at Erica’s car. She raised her hand and motioned for her to come inside.

Erica flung open the car door and hurried up the steps. Dan opened the door before she could ring the bell.

‘Come in,’ he said, and she saw a thousand different emotions flit across his face.

‘Thanks.’ Hesitantly she stepped inside, hung up her jacket, and with a strange feeling of reverence went into the kitchen.

Anna was sitting on a chair at the kitchen table. She hadn’t spent the entire time in bed, so Erica had seen her downstairs before. But since the accident, Anna hadn’t seemed truly present. Now she did.

‘I listened to your phone message,’ said Erica, sitting down across from Anna.

Dan poured each of them a cup of coffee and then discreetly left to join the noisy kids in the living room so the two sisters could talk in peace.

Anna’s hand shook slightly as she raised the cup to her lips. She looked almost transparent. Fragile. But her gaze was steady.

‘I was so scared,’ said Erica, feeling the tears begin to fall.

‘I know. I was scared too. Scared to come back.’

‘But why? I mean, I understand. I get that …’ She struggled to find the right thing to say. How could she put words to Anna’s grief when the truth was that she really didn’t understand the first thing about it?

‘It was dark. And it hurt less to stay in the dark than to be out here with all of you.’

‘But now?’ Erica’s voice quavered. ‘Now you’re here.’

Anna nodded gently and took another sip of coffee.

‘Where are the twins?’

Erica didn’t know what to say, but Anna seemed to understand her hesitation. She smiled.

‘I’m so anxious to meet them. Who do they take after? Are they very much alike?’

Erica looked at her, still cautious about how to react.

‘They’re actually not much alike. Not at all. Noel is louder. He makes it very clear when he wants something, and he’s so determined. Stubborn as could be. Anton is almost the exact opposite. He never screams for anything, and he seems to think that life is great. He’s very content, in other words. But I don’t really know who they take after.’

Anna’s smile grew wider. ‘You’re kidding me, right? You’ve just described yourself and Patrik. And you’re not the one who’s content, if I may say so.’

‘No, but …’ Erica began, then fell silent as she realized that what Anna had said was true. She had, in fact, described herself and Patrik, though she knew that he wasn’t always as calm at work as he was at home.

‘I’d like to meet them,’ Anna said again, looking steadily at Erica. ‘There’s no connection to what happened to me, and you know it. It wasn’t the twins’ fault that my son died.’

Now Erica couldn’t hold back her tears. She wasn’t yet convinced that Anna was right about there being no connection – it would take time for her to believe that – but the guilt that she’d carried during the past months slowly began seeping away.

‘I can bring them over any time you like. As soon as you feel up to it.’

‘Why don’t you go get them now? If it’s not too much trouble, that is,’ said Anna. Some colour had returned to her cheeks.

‘I could phone Kristina and ask her to drive over with them.’

Anna nodded. A couple of minutes later Erica had arranged for her mother-in-law to bring the boys to the house.

‘It’s hard,’ said Anna. ‘I feel like the darkness is there even now, hovering on the edge of things.’

‘At least you’re here now.’ Erica put her hand over her sister’s. ‘I came over to see you while you were lying in bed upstairs, and it was so awful. It felt like only a shell of you was there.’

‘I suppose that’s true. It almost makes me panic when I realize that I’m still partially that way. I feel like a fragile shell, and I don’t know how I’m going to fill myself up again. It’s so empty. In here.’ She placed her hand over her stomach, stroking it gently.

‘Do you remember anything about the funeral?’

‘No.’ Anna shook her head. ‘I remember it was important for us to have a funeral, that it seemed necessary. But I can’t recall the actual service.’

‘That’s okay,’ said Erica, getting up to refill their cups.

‘Dan said that it was your idea to take turns lying next to me in bed.’

‘Well, it wasn’t really my idea.’ Erica sat down again and told her sister about Vivianne.

‘Give her my best wishes and thank her. I’d still be lying upstairs in the dark otherwise, and I might have gone even deeper into myself. So deep that I might not have been able to come back at all.’

‘I’ll tell her hello when I see her.’

The doorbell rang, and Erica leaned back, craning her neck so she could look into the front hall.

‘That’s probably Kristina and the twins.’

She was right. Dan opened the front door to Erica’s mother-in-law. She got up and went out to the hall to help, noticing happily that both of her sons were awake.

‘They’re such little angels,’ said Kristina, casting a glance towards the kitchen.

‘Would you like to come in?’ asked Dan, but Kristina shook her head.

‘No, I think I’ll go on home now. It’s best if you have some time to yourselves.’

‘Thank you,’ said Erica, giving her a hug. As much as she’d come to like her mother-in-law, consideration for others wasn’t really Kristina’s strong suit.

‘It was no problem. I’m happy to help out. You know that.’ Then she hurried off.

Erica picked up a carrycot in each hand and took the twins into the kitchen.

‘This is your aunt Anna,’ she said as she carefully placed them on the floor next to Anna’s chair. ‘And this is Noel and Anton.’

‘There’s certainly no question who the father is, at any rate.’ Anna sat down on the floor next to the babies, and Erica did the same.

‘A lot of people have said they’re the spitting image of Patrik. But we can’t really see it ourselves.’

‘They’re wonderful,’ said Anna. Her voice quavered, and Erica was suddenly worried that she might have done the wrong thing by arranging for Anna to meet her sons. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe she should have said no.

‘It’s fine,’ said Anna, as if she could read Erica’s thoughts. ‘Can I hold them?’

‘Of course you can,’ said Erica. She sensed Dan’s presence behind them. He was undoubtedly holding his breath, just as she was. He too was uncertain as to whether this was the right thing to be doing.

‘Let’s take little Erica first,’ said Anna with a smile as she picked up Noel. ‘So you’re stubborn like your mamma. Is that right? Your mother is going to have her hands full with you, isn’t she?’

She held him close, nuzzling the hollow of his neck. She put Noel down and picked up Anton, repeating the same process with him. Then she rocked him in her arms.

‘They’re lovely, Erica.’ Anna looked at her sister over Anton’s little bald head. ‘They’re simply lovely.’

‘Thank you,’ said Erica. ‘Thank you.’

‘What have you found out?’ Patrik asked eagerly as he and Martin came into the hospital waiting room.

‘Well, I told you most of it on the phone,’ replied Paula. ‘The boys found a bag containing white powder in a litter bin near the block of flats. The ones that face the Tetra Pak building.’

‘Okay. Do we have the bag?’ asked Patrik as he sat down.

‘It’s right here.’ Paula pointed to a brown paper sack on the table. ‘And before you ask: yes, we’ve handled it with the appropriate caution. But unfortunately, a lot of people touched it before it came to us. The kids, teachers, and hospital staff.’

‘We’ll have to do a careful analysis. Could you arrange to have it sent over to the forensics lab? Then we’ll have to get fingerprints from everyone who might have touched it. Start by getting the parents’ permission to fingerprint the boys.’

‘Of course,’ said Gösta, nodding.

‘How are the kids?’ asked Martin.

‘According to the doctors, they’ve been through a helluva time. It could have ended very badly, but luckily they didn’t ingest much of the powder, only a small taste of it. Otherwise we’d be down at the morgue instead of sitting here.’

That thought was so awful that no one spoke for a few moments.

Patrik cast a glance at the paper bag. ‘We should also check whether Mats Sverin’s prints are on it.’

‘Do you think his murder could be drug-related?’ Paula frowned, leaning back on the hard sofa. She was having trouble finding a comfortable position, so she ended up leaning forward again. ‘Did you find out something in Göteborg that might indicate that?’

‘No, I can’t say that we did. We do have some more information to work on, but I thought we’d discuss it at our usual meeting back at the station later on.’ He stood up. ‘Martin and I are going to Fjällbacka to have a word with some of the teachers. Could you make sure the bag gets sent to the lab, Paula? Tell them it’s urgent.’

She smiled. ‘They’ll probably make that assumption, since it’s coming from you.’

Nathalie had felt slightly uneasy ever since Erica and Patrik had visited. Should she ask the doctor to come over? Sam still hadn’t uttered a sound since they’d arrived on the island. At the same time, she trusted her instincts. All he really needed was time. Time to heal his soul, not his body, which was the only thing a doctor would bother to examine.

She hardly dared think about that night. It felt as if her brain shut down every time those horrific memories started to worm their way into her mind. So how could she expect Sam’s little soul to handle it? They had shared the same terror. And she wondered whether they now shared the same fear that it might all catch up with them out here. She tried to soothe him, telling him that they were safe on the island. That nothing horrid could find them here. But she wasn’t sure her tone of voice matched her words. Because she herself didn’t quite believe what she was saying.

If only Matte … Her hand shook at the thought of him. He would have been able to protect them. She hadn’t wanted to tell him everything when they spent that evening and night together. But she had told him a little, enough so that he’d know why she was no longer the same person. She knew that she should have told him the whole story. If only they’d had more time, she would have confided everything in him.

She sobbed, then took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. She didn’t want Sam to see her despair. He needed to feel secure. That was the only thing that would erase from his memory the sound of the shots, the only thing that would take away the images of blood and his pappa. It was her job to make everything right again. Matte couldn’t help her.

It took a while to collect all the fingerprints they needed. Two sets were still missing: the ambulance medics were out on their rounds and wouldn’t be back until later. But Paula had a feeling that they were wasting time gathering all these fingerprints. Her instincts told her that it was more important to determine whether Sverin’s prints were on the bag. And they needed to know soon.

Paula knocked on the office door.

‘Come in.’ Torbjörn Ruud looked up as she entered.

‘Hi. I’m Paula Morales from the Tanum police. We’ve met a few times before.’ She suddenly came over all self-conscious. Usually Paula was a stickler when it came to the proper procedures; after all, rules existed for a reason. Yet she’d come here to ask Torbjörn to disregard all the protocols. In her opinion, this was one of those times when the rules needed to be bent a little.

‘Oh yes, I remember you.’ Torbjörn motioned for her to take a seat. ‘How’s the investigation coming along? Have you heard from Pedersen yet?’

‘No, we’re expecting the ME’s report on Wednesday. Otherwise we don’t really have much to go on, and we haven’t made as much progress as we’d hoped …’

She fell silent, wondering how to formulate her request.

‘Something happened today,’ she said at last. ‘We don’t yet know whether it has anything to do with the murder …’ She set the paper bag on the desk.

‘What’s in there?’ asked Torbjörn, reaching for it, but drawing back his hand before he touched it.

‘Cocaine,’ Paula told him.

‘Where did you find it?’

Paula quickly briefed him on what had taken place and what the boys had told them.

‘It’s not often that I have a bag of cocaine dropped on my desk,’ said Torbjörn, studying Paula.

‘I realize that,’ she said, feeling her face turn red. ‘But you know how things will go. If we send the bag to the forensics lab, it will take for ever to get the results. And I have a feeling this could be very important. So I was wondering if we could be a bit flexible in this situation. If you could help me find out just one thing, I’ll handle all the formalities afterwards. And I’ll take full responsibility, of course.’

Torbjörn was silent for a few moments.

‘What exactly do you want me to do?’ he asked finally, but he still looked dubious.

Paula told him what she wanted, and Torbjörn nodded.

‘Okay, we’ll make an exception this once. But if anything happens, you’ll have to take responsibility, as you said. And you need to make sure that everything looks above board.’

‘You have my word,’ said Paula, feeling a surge of excitement. She was right, she was convinced of that. Now all that remained was to prove it.

‘Okay, come with me,’ said Torbjörn, getting to his feet. Paula hurried after him. She was going to owe him big-time after this.

‘I hope I didn’t offend you today,’ said Erling. He didn’t dare look her in the eye.

Vivianne was poking at her food and didn’t answer. As always when he found himself in disfavour, he felt his whole body knotting with discomfort. He really shouldn’t have passed on what Bertil had said about the food served at Badis. What had he been thinking? Vivianne knew what she was doing, and he shouldn’t have interfered.

‘Darling, you’re not cross with me, are you?’ He stroked the back of her hand.

She didn’t respond, and he had no idea what to do next. He could usually coax her out of a bad mood, but today she seemed in no mood to be placated.

‘It looks as if a lot of people have accepted the invitation to the dedication festivities on Saturday. All the Göteborg celebrities are coming. Real celebrities, not just those B-list personalities like Robinson-Martin. And I’ve managed to book the band Arvingarna.’

Vivianne frowned. ‘But I thought Garage was going to play.’

‘They’ll just have to settle for being the opening act. We can’t very well turn down Arvingarna, can we? They’ll bring in a big crowd.’ He was starting to forget his worries. Project Badis usually had that effect on him.

‘But we won’t receive our money until next Wednesday. I hope you realize that.’ Vivianne raised her eyes from her plate and seemed to be thawing a bit.

Delighted, Erling continued on the same track.

‘That’s no problem. The council will cover the bills until then, and most of the suppliers have agreed to wait for payment, since we’ve guaranteed the money. So you don’t need to worry.’

‘That’s good to know. Of course, Anders is the one who’s in charge of all those matters, so I assume he’s been informed.’

Now a little smile had begun to play over her lips, and Erling suddenly had butterflies in his stomach. After lunch, when he was filled with anxiety because of his faux pas, a plan had begun to take shape in his mind. He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t thought of it earlier. Fortunately, he was a man of action, and he knew how to get things done without too much advance preparation.

‘Sweetheart,’ he said.

‘Hmm,’ said Vivianne, taking another bite of the quorn casserole she’d made.

‘There’s something that I want to ask you …’

Vivianne stopped chewing and raised her eyes to look at him. For a moment Erling thought he saw a flash of fear, but it disappeared at once, and he assumed he was imagining things. It was probably just nervousness.

With an effort he knelt down next to her chair and took a small box out of his jacket pocket. The label on the lid said Nordholms Gold & Watches. It didn’t take a genius to guess what was inside.

Erling cleared his throat. This was a big moment. He took Vivianne’s hand, and in a solemn voice he said:

‘I would like to take this occasion to ask if you would do me the great honour of marrying me.’ What had sounded so elegant in his mind now sounded merely pompous. He tried again: ‘Er, that is, I was thinking that we should get married.’

That wasn’t much better, and he could hear his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for her answer. In truth he was pretty certain what she would say, but he couldn’t be absolutely sure. Women could be so capricious.

Vivianne was silent a little too long, and Erling’s knees started to hurt. The box was trembling in his hand, and he felt tension gathering along his spine.

At last she took a deep breath and said, ‘Yes, of course, we should get married, Erling.’

Relieved, he took the ring out of the box and slipped it on her finger. It wasn’t expensive, but Vivianne didn’t care much about material things, so why should he spend a lot of money on a ring? And he’d got it for an excellent price, he thought happily. Tonight he counted on getting good value for his money. It had been a disturbingly long time since they’d made love, but this evening they were going to celebrate.

He got up, his back creaking, and took his seat again. With a triumphant expression he raised his glass to Vivianne in a toast, and she replied in kind. For a second he thought he saw that strange look in her eyes again, but he pushed the notion aside and took another sip of his wine. Tonight he had no intention of falling asleep on the sofa.

‘Is everyone here?’ said Patrik. The question was purely rhetorical. He could see exactly who was present; he was merely trying to cut through the buzz of voices in the kitchen.

‘Everybody’s here,’ said Annika.

‘Then there are a few things we need to discuss.’ Patrik brought out the big flip-chart that they used for jotting down notes at their meetings.

‘First of all: the boys are continuing to improve, and they don’t seem to have suffered any permanent injury.’

‘Thank God for that,’ said Annika, relieved.

‘Before we discuss the cocaine discovery, I’d like to run through what else happened today. Paula, how did you get on with your examination of the briefcase?’

‘So far we haven’t come up with anything specific,’ said Paula briskly. ‘But we’re hoping to know more very soon.’

‘There was a load of financial documents inside the briefcase,’ Gösta clarified, after glancing at Paula. ‘We couldn’t make much sense of them, so we gave them to Lennart, Annika’s husband. He’s going to take a look before we send them on.’

‘Good,’ said Patrik. ‘When does Lennart think he can get back to us?’

‘Day after tomorrow,’ said Paula. ‘As for the mobile phone, there was nothing of interest on it. I sent the laptop over to the tech division, but God only knows when we’ll get a report from them.’

‘It’s frustrating, I know, but there’s nothing we can do about that.’ Patrik crossed his arms. He’d started writing notes on the flip-chart. In big letters it now said: Lennart, Wednesday.

‘What did Sverin’s old girlfriend say? Did she have anything to tell us?’ asked Mellberg. Everyone gave a start, and Patrik looked at his boss in astonishment. He hadn’t thought Mellberg paid the slightest attention to what was happening with the investigation.

‘Mats went out to see her on Friday evening, but he left sometime during the night,’ he said, adding the information to the chart. ‘That narrows down the time frame for the murder. The earliest it could have happened is in the wee hours of Saturday morning, which also fits with the sound that the neighbour heard. I’m hoping that Pedersen’s report will help us to pinpoint the time of death even further.’

‘Did she strike you as fishy? Maybe this was all a lovers’ quarrel?’ Mellberg went on. Ernst, who was lying at Mellberg’s feet, reacted to his master’s tone of voice by lifting his head inquisitively.

‘“Fishy” isn’t exactly the word that I’d use to describe Nathalie, but she did seem a bit distracted. She and her son are living out there on the island at the moment. Apparently she and Mats hadn’t been in contact for many years, which tallies with what his parents told us. The pair of them were probably reliving old memories that evening.’

‘Why did he leave in the middle of the night?’ asked Annika, turning automatically to Martin, who looked insulted. He was a steady family man these days, but there had been a time when he’d had quite an active love life. The object of his affections had a tendency to change from week to week, and sometimes his colleagues still teased him about that. He’d turned his back on that sort of life the minute Pia came into the picture, and he’d never regretted his decision.

Now he reluctantly thought back to the old days.

‘I don’t see anything strange about that. Sometimes a guy just wants to avoid all that chatter the morning after.’ Everyone looked at him in amusement, and he shrugged. ‘What? Boys will be boys.’ He blushed, making his freckles turn bright red.

Patrik couldn’t help grinning, but then he forced himself to turn serious again.

‘No matter what his reason, we now know that Mats went home in the early hours of Saturday morning. But the question is, what has happened to his boat? He must have gone home in it.’

‘Have you checked the adverts in Blocket?’ Gösta reached for a biscuit and dipped it in his coffee.

‘I checked all the classified ads yesterday, but so far nothing,’ said Patrik. ‘There’s an alert posted for the boat, and I’ve talked to the Coast Guard, so they’ll keep an eye out for it.’

‘It seems like a strange coincidence for the boat to go missing right now.’

‘Yes, it does. Has anyone searched his car?’ Paula sat up straighter and looked at Patrik.

He nodded. ‘Torbjörn and his team went over Sverin’s car. It was parked outside the building where he lived. But they didn’t find anything.’

‘I see,’ said Paula, leaning back in her chair again. She thought they might have missed something, but Patrik clearly had the situation under control.

‘What did you find out in Göteborg?’ asked Mellberg as he slipped a biscuit to Ernst.

Patrik and Martin exchanged glances.

‘Well, it turned out to be a very productive trip. Would you like to tell everybody about our meeting with social services, Martin?’

Patrik’s decision to let his youngest colleague take the lead a bit more often had an immediate effect. Martin’s face lit up. He delivered a clear and concise report on their meeting with Sven Barkman and the information he’d given them about the Refuge and its collaboration with social services. After casting an enquiring glance at Patrik, he went on to describe their visit to the Refuge office.

‘As far as we know, there were no threats directed at Mats because of his work with the organization. At least, the director of the Refuge claims to be unaware of any such threats. She did, however, allow us to look through the documents pertaining to the women who received help from the Refuge during the last year that Sverin worked there. We’re talking about approximately twenty cases.’

Patrik nodded, and then Martin continued:

‘Without more to go on, it’s impossible to determine whether one or more of the cases might be of interest and warrant further investigation. We took notes and wrote down the names of those women that Mats was the contact person for. So we can follow up on that. I have to say, though, it was bloody depressing to sit there and read through those files. Many of the women were living in a hell that we can’t even begin to imagine … It’s really hard to describe.’ Embarrassed, Martin fell silent, but Patrik understood exactly what he meant. He too had been affected by the hellish lives that they had glimpsed in those files.

‘We’re considering talking to the other staff members,’ said Patrik. ‘And maybe also some of the women who received help from the Refuge while Mats worked there. But that might not be necessary. We now have a statement from a witness that could give us a potential lead.’ He paused for effect, noting that he had everyone’s full attention. ‘From the start I’ve felt there was something odd about the assault on Mats. So Martin and I took a chance and went over to the building where Mats used to live in Göteborg. As you know, the attack took place right outside the front entrance, and we managed to speak with a neighbour. We wanted to confirm what Sverin had reported about the teenagers who beat him up. But according to the neighbour, who actually witnessed the incident, the assault was carried out by a much older gang. “Motorcyclists”, was the term he used.’

‘Oh, shit,’ said Gösta. ‘Why would Sverin lie about that? And why didn’t the neighbour say anything before?’

‘As far as the neighbour is concerned, it’s the usual story. He was scared and didn’t want to get involved. A lack of civic courage, in other words.’

‘And Sverin? Why didn’t he tell the truth?’ Gösta persisted.

Patrik shook his head. ‘Maybe he was scared too. Maybe it’s as simple as that. But these biker gangs aren’t known for attacking random people on the street, so there must be a reason for the assault.’

‘Did the neighbour recall any identifying marks?’ asked Paula.

‘An eagle,’ said Martin. ‘The neighbour said that he saw an eagle on their jackets. So it should be easy enough to find out which gang it was.’

‘Get in touch with our colleagues in Göteborg. I’m sure they can help you with that,’ said Mellberg. ‘That’s what I’ve been saying all along. An ugly customer, that Sverin. If he was mixed up with those types, it’s no surprise that he ended up in the morgue with a bullet in his skull.’

‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ said Patrik. ‘We have no idea whether Mats was mixed up with them, and so far there’s no indication that he was involved with any sort of criminal activity. I thought we should start by asking the director of Refuge whether she recognizes this particular biker gang, and whether her organization has had any contact with them. And, as Bertil suggested, we should also talk to our colleagues in Göteborg. Yes, Paula?’

Paula had raised her hand.

‘Well, the thing is,’ she began hesitantly. ‘I decided to speed things up a bit today. Instead of sending the paper bag to the lab, I took it straight to Torbjörn Ruud. You know how long it can take to get lab results. Things end up at the bottom of the pile, and …’

‘Yes, we know. Go on,’ said Patrik.

‘I had a chat with Torbjörn, and I sort of asked him for a favour …’ Paula shifted uncomfortably, not sure how Patrik was going to react. ‘To be blunt, I asked him to do a quick comparison between the fingerprints on the bag and Sverin’s prints.’ She took a deep breath.

‘Go on,’ Patrik said again.

‘He found a match. Mats’s fingerprints were on the paper bag containing the cocaine.’

‘I knew it!’ Mellberg pumped his arm in triumph. ‘Narcotics and associating with a criminal gang. I knew all along he had something to hide.’

‘I still say that we should proceed with caution,’ said Patrik, although he didn’t sound as sure of himself as before.

Thoughts were whirling through his mind, and he was trying to make sense of them. To a certain extent, he had to agree with Mellberg. But the image that he’d formed of Mats Sverin after talking to his parents, his co-workers and Nathalie, did not fit with this new information. For all that Patrik had consistently had a feeling that something wasn’t quite right, he couldn’t accept Bertil’s assessment of Mats.

‘Was Torbjörn quite sure?’

‘Yes, one hundred per cent sure. The bag will now be sent on, and his conclusion will be formally confirmed. But Torbjörn is positive that Mats Sverin held that bag in his hands.’

‘That changes things. We need to find out from the known local drug dealers whether they had anything to do with Mats. But I have to say this doesn’t seem …’ Patrik shook his head.

‘Rubbish,’ Mellberg snorted. ‘I’m convinced that once we start nosing around, we’ll soon have our killer. A good old-fashioned drug-related murder. That shouldn’t take much effort to solve. He probably owed somebody money.’

‘Hmm …’ said Patrik. ‘In that case, why would he toss the bag in a litter bin near his flat? Or maybe somebody else did that? Either way, we need to check this out. Martin and Paula, could you have a talk with the usual suspects tomorrow?’

Paula nodded as Patrik began writing on the flip-chart. He knew that Annika always took notes at their meetings, but writing on the chart gave him a feel for the big picture.

‘Gösta and I will talk to Mats’s colleagues, and this time we’ll ask more specific questions.’

‘Specific?’

‘Such as whether they heard or observed anything that might explain why Mats would be holding a bag of cocaine.’

‘You mean we’re going to ask them whether he was a drug addict?’ Gösta didn’t seem too enthusiastic.

‘We don’t know that yet,’ said Patrik. ‘We won’t have Pedersen’s report until the day after tomorrow. Until then, we have no idea what kind of substances may have been found in Mats’s body.’

‘We could ask his parents,’ suggested Paula.

Patrik swallowed hard. It wasn’t a task he relished, but he knew she was right.

‘Yes, we need to talk to them too. Gösta and I will handle it.’

‘What about me?’ asked Mellberg.

‘I’d really appreciate it if you, as the chief of police, could hold down the fort here,’ said Patrik.

‘Right. That’s probably best.’ Mellberg stood up, visibly relieved, and Ernst followed close on his heels. ‘We all need to get our beauty sleep now. It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow, but we’ll solve this case soon. I can feel it in my bones.’ Mellberg rubbed his hands together but didn’t receive much of a response from his subordinates.

‘Okay, you heard what Bertil said. Go home and get some sleep. We’ll start fresh in the morning.’

‘What about the Göteborg lead?’ asked Martin.

‘We’ll start at this end first. Then we’ll review it when we have more information. Not tomorrow, though. That means we’ll probably make another trip to Göteborg on Wednesday.’

They ended the meeting, and Patrik went out to his car. He spent the whole drive home lost in thought.