The Lost Boy

21

Saturday arrived with the most beautiful weather imaginable. Radiant sunshine, a clear blue sky, and only a slight breeze. All of Fjällbacka bubbled with anticipation. Those who were fortunate enough to have received an invitation to the evening’s dedication festivities had spent a large part of the week agonizing over their attire and hair. Everyone who was anyone in the local community was going to be there, and rumour had it that several celebrities would be coming from Göteborg.

But Erica had other things on her mind. That very morning she had decided that it would be better if someone told Nathalie about Gunnar in person rather than over the phone. And she’d already been thinking of going out to see Nathalie to give her the information that she’d unearthed about Gråskär’s history, as a little surprise. Now that she had a babysitter, she decided to make the trip out to the island.

‘Are you sure that you can manage for such a long time?’ she asked her mother-in-law.

Kristina snorted.

‘With these little angels? No problem.’ She was holding Maja in her arms, and the twins were asleep in their carrycots.

‘I’ll be gone for quite a while. First I’m going to see Anna, and then I’m going out to Gråskär.’

‘You’ll be careful, won’t you? I’m not sure I like the idea of you going out there in the boat alone.’ Maja was starting to squirm, so Kristina set her down. Maja gave her baby brothers a couple of wet kisses and then ran off to play.

‘You don’t need to worry. I know how to handle a boat,’ laughed Erica. ‘As opposed to your son.’

‘You have a point there,’ said Kristina, but she was still looking concerned. ‘By the way, are you sure that Anna is strong enough for this?’

The same thought had occurred to Erica when Anna phoned and asked her to accompany her out to the grave. But she realized that she needed to let her sister make her own decisions.

‘Yes, I think so,’ she said, sounding more confident than she felt.

‘I really think it’s a bit too soon,’ said Kristina, picking up Noel, who had started whimpering. ‘But I hope you’re right.’

I do too, thought Erica as she went out to the car to drive to the cemetery. But no matter what reservations she might have, she’d promised to go with Anna, and she couldn’t very well back out now.

Anna was waiting at the big iron gate near the fire station. She looked so small. Her cropped hair made her seem even more fragile, and Erica had to stop herself from taking her sister in her arms and rocking her like a baby.

‘Are you sure you’re ready for this?’ she asked gently. ‘We can go out there some other day if you like.’

Anna shook her head. ‘No, I’m fine. And I want to go. I was so out of it at the time that I can hardly even remember the funeral. I need to see where his grave is.’

‘Okay.’ Erica took Anna’s arm and they walked along the gravel path.

They couldn’t have chosen a more beautiful day. A muted rushing sound came from the traffic moving past, but otherwise everything was calm and peaceful. The sun shone on the headstones, and many of the graves were well tended with fresh flowers that family members had left. Anna suddenly paused, and Erica nodded in the direction of the grave.

‘He’s next to Jens.’ Erica pointed to a round boulder made of granite, with the name Jens Läckberg etched into the surface. Jens had been their father’s good friend, and they remembered him from their childhood as a man with an impressive paunch who had always been cheerful, sociable, and witty.

‘How lovely it is,’ said Anna. Her voice was devoid of emotion, but grief was evident in her expression. They had chosen a similar headstone, a naturally rounded piece of granite. And the etching had been done in the same manner. It said ‘Little One’ and the year. Just one year.

Erica felt her throat close up, but she forced herself to hold back the tears. For Anna’s sake she needed to be strong. Her sister swayed a bit as she stared at the stone, which was all that she had left of the child she had wanted so badly. She grabbed Erica’s hand and squeezed it hard. Tears ran down her face. Then she turned to face her sister.

‘What’s going to happen? How is it all going to work out?’

Without a word, Erica wrapped her arms around her and held her tight.

‘Rita and I have a suggestion.’ Mellberg put his arm around Rita and pulled her closer.

Paula and Johanna looked at them, wondering what this was all about.

‘Well, we don’t really know what your plans are,’ said Rita, looking a bit more hesitant than Mellberg. ‘You said that you need a place of your own … And, well, the question is, how far away you’d like to move.’

‘What are you two talking about?’ asked Paula, staring at her mother.

‘What we’re wondering is whether it would be enough if you moved to the floor below.’ Mellberg looked at them expectantly.

‘But there aren’t any vacant flats in the building,’ said Paula.

‘There is one. At least, there will be next month. The three-room flat below could be yours as soon as the ink dries on the lease agreement.’

Rita studied the girls carefully to see whether she could work out what they were thinking. She had been overjoyed when Bertil told her about the flat, but she wasn’t sure how much distance the girls felt they needed.

‘Of course we wouldn’t be running in and out of your place all the time,’ she assured them.

Mellberg looked at Rita in surprise. Wouldn’t they be allowed to come and go as they pleased? But he decided not to comment. The most important thing was for the girls to accept the offer.

Paula and Johanna looked at each other. Then they both smiled and began talking at once.

‘That three-room flat is great. It’s filled with light, and there are windows facing in two directions. And the kitchen was recently remodelled. And that little room that Bente uses as a dressing room could be Leo’s room, and …’ They suddenly stopped talking.

‘But where is Bente going to live?’ asked Paula. ‘I didn’t know that she was planning to move.’

Mellberg shrugged. ‘I have no idea. I assume that she’s found another place. Alvar didn’t mention it when I talked to him. But he did say that you’ll have to paint it and make any other changes yourselves.’

‘No problem,’ said Johanna. ‘That’ll be fun. We’ll fix it up really nice, won’t we, sweetheart?’ Her eyes were sparkling, and Paula leaned forward to kiss her on the lips.

‘And we can still help out with Leo,’ Rita interjected. ‘As much as you want us to, that is. We don’t want to intrude.’

‘We’re going to need plenty of help,’ said Paula, wanting to reassure her. ‘And we think it’s wonderful that Leo will have you and Grandpa Bertil so close. As long as we have our own flat, everything will work out fine.’

Paula turned to Mellberg, who had lifted Leo on to his lap.

‘Thank you, Bertil,’ she said.

To his surprise, Mellberg felt a bit embarrassed.

‘Oh, it was nothing.’ He pressed his face against the back of Leo’s neck, which always made the boy giggle. Then he looked up and glanced around the kitchen table. Once again Bertil Mellberg felt deeply grateful for this new family of his.

He was wandering aimlessly through the building. People were running around, taking care of all the last-minute preparations. Anders knew that he ought to lend a hand, but the knowledge of what he was about to undertake left him feeling paralysed. He wanted to do it, and yet he didn’t. The question was whether he was brave enough to handle the consequences of his actions. He still wasn’t convinced, but soon he wouldn’t be able to spend any more time mulling it over. Soon he would have to decide.

‘Have you seen Vivianne?’ asked a female staff member as she rushed past. Anders pointed to the next room. ‘Thanks. Everything’s going to be so great tonight.’

Everybody was scurrying and bustling. But Anders felt as if he were moving under water.

‘There you are, my future brother-in-law,’ said Erling, putting his arm around his shoulders. Anders had to fight the impulse to shrug him off. ‘It’s going to be terrific. The celebrities will be here around four, so they’ll have time to get settled in their rooms. At six o’clock we open to the other guests.’

‘I hear the whole town is talking about the event.’

‘I’m not surprised. This is the biggest thing to happen in the area since …’ He didn’t finish his sentence, but Anders knew what he had planned to say. He’d heard about the reality show Sodding Tanum and what a disaster it had turned out to be for Erling.

‘So where’s my little turtledove?’ Erling craned his neck and looked around.

Again Anders pointed to the next room, and Erling raced off in that direction. Vivianne was certainly in demand today. He went out to the kitchen, sat down on a chair in the corner and rubbed his temples. He could feel a bad headache coming on. He found the first-aid box and took two aspirin. Soon, he thought. Soon he would make up his mind.

Erica could still feel the lump in her throat as she steered the motorboat out of the harbour. The engine had started up immediately, and she was enjoying listening to the familiar sound of the motor. The boat had been her father’s baby. Even though she and Patrik weren’t nearly as conscientious as her father had been, they tried to keep it in good repair. This year the wooden deck needed to be sanded down and re-varnished. It was starting to peel in places. If she could persuade Patrik to babysit the children, she had a mind to do the work herself. Since writing books was such a sedentary job, she loved to do work that required more muscle-power once in a while. And she was better at practical things than Patrik, although that didn’t really say very much.

She glanced to the right to catch a glimpse of Badis. She was hoping that they could go to the dedication event, at least for a little while, but they hadn’t yet decided. Patrik had looked very tired this morning, and Erica didn’t know whether Kristina would feel like babysitting all evening.

At any rate, she was looking forward to this visit to Gråskär. When she and Patrik had gone out there before, she had felt captivated by the atmosphere. Now that she’d read about the island, she was even more fascinated. She had looked at a lot of pictures of the archipelago, and there was no doubt that the Gråskär lighthouse was one of the most beautiful. Erica wasn’t surprised that Nathalie liked being out there, although she thought that personally she’d go crazy after a few days without seeing any other people. Then she thought about Nathalie’s son, and hoped he was feeling better. Presumably he was on the mend, since Nathalie hadn’t phoned to ask for help.

A short time later Gråskär appeared on the horizon. Nathalie hadn’t sounded very enthusiastic when Erica called, but after a little coaxing, she’d agreed to the visit. Erica was convinced that she would enjoy hearing more about the island’s past.

‘Can you manage to bring the boat in on your own?’ Nathalie shouted from the dock.

‘No problem. As long as you’re not worried about the pier.’ She smiled to show she was joking and smoothly brought the boat alongside. She switched off the motor and tossed the mooring line to Nathalie, who carefully fastened it.

‘Hi,’ Erica said as she climbed out of the boat.

‘Hi.’ Nathalie smiled but didn’t meet her eye.

‘How’s Sam?’ Erica looked up towards the house.

‘Better,’ said Nathalie. She looked thinner than the last time Erica saw her, and the outline of her collarbone was visible through her T-shirt.

‘I brought you some freshly baked buns,’ said Erica, taking out a bag. ‘Oh no, I forgot to ask if you needed any groceries.’ She was annoyed with herself. She should have asked when she phoned. Nathalie probably hadn’t wanted to bother her with such a request again, since they didn’t know each other very well.

‘No, don’t worry. You brought over so much last time, and I can always ask Gunnar and Signe. But I don’t know if I should trouble them right now.’

Erica hesitated, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell Nathalie the news just yet. She would wait until they sat down.

‘I thought we could have coffee in the boathouse. It’s such beautiful weather.’

‘Yes, it’s not the kind of day to spend indoors.’ Erica followed Nathalie to the open-sided boathouse where coffee cups were set on a weather-beaten table with benches on either side. Fishing gear hung on the walls, along with the gleaming blue and green glass balls that were used as floats. Nathalie filled their cups with coffee from a thermos.

‘How do you handle living so isolated like this?’ asked Erica.

‘You get used to it,’ said Nathalie quietly, gazing out at the water. ‘And I’m not totally alone out here.’

Erica gave a start and looked at her inquisitively.

‘I mean, I do have Sam, you know,’ Nathalie said.

Erica had to laugh at herself. She’d immersed herself so deeply in the stories about Gråskär that she’d actually started to believe them.

‘So there’s no truth behind the nickname Ghost Isle?’

‘I don’t think anybody believes those old ghost stories,’ said Nathalie, again looking out at the water.

‘Well, the name does give the island a certain allure.’

Erica had put all the information she’d collected about Gråskär in a folder, which she now took out of her purse and slid across the table towards Nathalie.

‘It may be a small island, but it has quite a colourful past. With a few highly dramatic events.’

‘Yes, I’ve heard a little about that. Mamma and Pappa knew a lot about the island, but I’m afraid I never paid much attention to what they said about it.’ Nathalie opened the folder. A light breeze riffled the pages.

‘I put everything in chronological order,’ said Erica. Then she fell silent as Nathalie leafed through the photocopies.

‘I can’t believe all the information you’ve found,’ said Nathalie, crimson patches appearing on her cheeks.

‘It was fun doing the research. I need to do something other than change nappies and feed crying babies.’ She pointed at an article that Nathalie was looking at. ‘That’s the most mysterious incident in the island’s history. A whole family disappeared without a trace from Gråskär. Nobody knows what happened to them or where they went. The house looked as if they’d got up and walked out the door, leaving everything just as it was.’

Erica could hear that she sounded a bit too enthusiastic, but she found the incident so intriguing. Mysteries had always sparked her imagination, and this one was a true-life suspense story.

‘Look what it says there,’ she said, her voice calmer now. ‘The lighthouse keeper Karl Jacobsson, his wife Emelie, their son Gustav, and the lighthouse assistant Julian Sontag lived here on the island for several years. Then they simply vanished, as if they’d gone up in smoke. Their bodies were never found, and there wasn’t a single clue as to what might have happened to them. Nor was there any reason to believe that they’d left voluntarily. There was nothing. Isn’t that strange?’

Nathalie glanced at the article with an odd expression on her face.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Very.’

‘You haven’t seen them lurking about, have you?’ asked Erica jokingly, but Nathalie didn’t respond. She merely continued to stare at the article. ‘I wonder what happened,’ Erica went on. ‘Maybe somebody came here by boat, murdered the whole family, and then disposed of the bodies. Their own boat was still moored to the dock.’

Nathalie murmured to herself as she ran her finger over the page. Something about a blond little boy, but Erica couldn’t really hear what she was saying. She turned to look at the house.

‘Aren’t you worried that Sam might wake up and wonder where you are?’

‘He fell asleep just before you got here. He usually sleeps for a long time,’ said Nathalie, sounding distracted.

Neither of them spoke for a while, until Erica suddenly remembered the other reason for her visit. She took a deep breath and said:

‘There’s something I have to tell you, Nathalie.’

Nathalie looked up. ‘Is it about Matte? Do they know who …?’

‘No, not yet, although they have a few leads. But this does have to do with Matte.’

‘What is it? Tell me,’ said Nathalie. Her hand still rested on top of the article.

Erica took another deep breath and told her what had happened to Gunnar.

‘No. That can’t be true. Why?’ Nathalie looked as if she could hardly breathe.

With a heavy heart Erica told her about the little boys who found the cocaine, about Matte’s fingerprints on the bag, and about what happened after the press conference.

Nathalie started shaking her head. ‘No, no, no. That can’t be, that just can’t be.’ She turned away.

‘Everyone says the same thing. And I know that Patrik was sceptical too. But everything points in that direction, and that might also explain why Matte was murdered.’

‘No,’ said Nathalie. ‘Matte hated drugs. He hated everything that had to do with drugs.’ She clenched her teeth and then said, ‘Poor, poor Signe.’

‘Yes, it must be terrible to lose both your son and your husband in a matter of weeks,’ Erica murmured.

‘How is she?’ Nathalie’s eyes were filled with empathy and sorrow.

‘I’m not really sure. All I can tell you is that she’s in hospital, and apparently not doing well.’

‘Poor Signe,’ said Nathalie again. ‘So much misfortune. So many tragedies.’ She looked down at the article lying on the table.

‘Yes.’ Erica didn’t know what else to say. ‘Do you think I could go up in the lighthouse?’ she asked at last, wanting to change the subject.

Nathalie gave a start, as if she’d been lost in thought.

‘Oh … sure. I just need to get the key.’ She hurried off towards the house.

Erica stood up and walked over to the lighthouse. When she stood at its base, she tilted her head back to look up. The white paint gleamed in the sunlight. A few seagulls circled overhead, shrieking.

‘Here it is.’ Nathalie was panting a bit as she approached. She was holding a big, rusty key.

The key did not turn easily in the lock, but finally she pulled open the heavy door. It creaked and groaned on its hinges. Erica stepped inside and began climbing the narrow, winding stairs, with Nathalie right behind her. Halfway up, Erica was breathing hard, but when she reached the top, she saw that it was worth the effort. The view was spectacular.

‘Wow,’ she said.

Nathalie nodded proudly. ‘Yes. It’s amazing, isn’t it?’

‘But imagine spending hours in this cramped space,’ said Erica, looking around.

Nathalie came over to stand next to her, so close that their shoulders almost touched.

‘A lonely job. Like being on the very edge of the world.’ She seemed far away in her thoughts.

Erica sniffed at the air. She smelled something strange, and yet it seemed familiar. She knew that she’d smelled it before, but she couldn’t really place it. Nathalie had taken a step forward to look out of the window at the open sea. Erica moved closer too.

Her brain was working feverishly to identify that smell. Then she realized where she’d encountered it before. Thoughts continued whirling through her mind, and slowly the pieces began falling into place.

‘Would you mind waiting here while I run down to the boat to get my camera? I’d like to take a few pictures.’

‘Okay,’ said Nathalie reluctantly. She went over to the small bed and sat down.

‘Great.’ Erica ran down the stairs and then raced down the hill on which the lighthouse stood. But instead of heading for the dock, she dashed for the house. She tried to tell herself that this was all just one of her crazy ideas. At the same time, she needed to find out for sure.

After casting a glance over her shoulder at the lighthouse, she pressed down the handle and opened the front door to the cottage.

Madeleine had heard them yesterday from upstairs. She hadn’t known they were police officers until Stefan appeared and told her. In between hitting her.

She dragged her bruised body over to the window. With great effort she pulled herself up and looked out. The small room had a slanted ceiling, and the only light came from the narrow window. Outside, she saw farmland and woods.

They hadn’t bothered to blindfold her, so she knew that she was at the farm. This room had been the children’s when they lived here. Now the only reminder of their presence was a discarded toy car lying in one corner.

She pressed her hands against the wall and felt the pattern of the wallpaper under her palms. This was where Vilda’s cot had stood. Kevin’s bed had stood against the wall at the end of the room. That all seemed so long ago. She could hardly recall living here. It had been a life filled with fear, but at least she’d had the children.

She wondered where they were now – where Stefan had taken them. Probably they were staying with one of the families that didn’t live here on the farm. One of the other women must be taking care of them. Missing the children was almost worse than the physical pain. She pictured them in her mind: Vilda coming down the slide in the courtyard back in Copenhagen, as Kevin proudly watched his brave little sister, and that lock of hair kept falling into his eyes. Madeleine wondered whether she’d ever see them again.

Sobbing, she sank down on to the floor and curled up in a foetal position. Her whole body felt like one enormous bruise. Stefan had vented all his anger on her. She had been mistaken, terribly mistaken, when she thought that it would be safer to come back to Sweden, that she would be able to ask forgiveness from him. The second she saw him standing in her parents’ kitchen, she understood. There would be no forgiveness, and she’d been a fool to think otherwise.

Her poor mother and father. She knew how worried they must be, and how they were probably discussing whether to contact the police or not. Pappa would be in favour of doing that. He would say that was the only option. But Mamma would object, terrified that it would mean the end, that all hope would then be lost. Her father was right, but he would allow her mother to win, as usual. Nobody was going to come here to save her.

She curled up even more, trying to shape her body into a little ball. But the slightest movement hurt, so she forced her muscles to relax. She heard a key turn in the lock. She lay perfectly still, trying to will him to leave. A rough hand grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet.

‘Get up, you fucking whore.’

It felt like her arm was being pulled out of its socket, as if something broke inside her shoulder.

‘Where are the children?’ she pleaded. ‘Can I see them?’

Stefan gave her a contemptuous look.

‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you? So you could take my kids and run away again. Nobody, and I mean nobody, is going to take my kids away from me.’ He dragged her out of the door and down the stairs.

‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,’ she sobbed. Her face was streaked with blood and dirt and tears.

Stefan’s men had all gathered downstairs. The inner circle. She knew them all: Roger, Paul, Lillen, Steven, and Joar. Now they stood in silence, looking at her as Stefan dragged her through the room. She had a hard time focusing. One eye was so swollen that it was practically closed, and blood from a cut in her forehead was clouding the vision of her other eye. And yet she knew exactly what was going to happen. She could see it in the faces of the men – some of them stared at her coldly, while others looked at her with pity. Joar, who had always been the nicest to her, suddenly looked down at the floor. That was when she understood. She considered fighting back, trying to resist, trying to get away. But where would she go? It was hopeless. All it would achieve would be to prolong the agony.

Instead she stumbled after Stefan, who still had a tight grip on her arm. They hurried across the field behind the house, over towards the woods. In her mind she conjured up pictures of Kevin and Vilda. Newborn, lying at her breast. And much later, filled with laughter as they played in the Danish courtyard. She chose not to remember the time in between, when their eyes became more dazed and resigned with each day that passed. That was the life they were now going to return to, and she couldn’t bear to think about it. She had failed. She should have protected them, but she had grown soft and weak. Now she was about to receive her punishment, and she accepted that – as long as her children would be spared.

They had entered the woods. Birds were chirping, and sunlight seeped through the crowns of the trees. She stumbled over a tree root and almost fell, but Stefan yanked at her arm and she kept on going. Up ahead she caught sight of a clearing, and for a moment she saw Matte’s face. His handsome, kind face. He had loved her so much, and he too had been punished.

When they reached the clearing, she saw the hole in the ground. A rectangular hole, four or five feet deep. The shovel was still there, sticking out of the heap of dirt.

‘Move over to the edge,’ said Stefan, letting go of her arm.

Madeleine obeyed. She no longer had any will of her own. She stood on the edge of the hole, shaking all over. When she looked down, she saw several fat worms trying to burrow deeper into the dark, moist earth. With one last effort she slowly turned around so she was standing face to face with Stefan. He would at least be forced to look her in the eye.

‘I think I’ll put the bullet right between your eyes.’ Stefan raised the gun, holding his arm out straight, and she knew that he was speaking the truth. He was an excellent marksman.

A flock of birds took off from the trees in fright when the shot was fired. But they soon settled back on to the branches, and their chirping blended with the soughing of the wind.

It was so tedious, ploughing through all the documents: post-mortem reports, interviews with neighbours, notes that they’d made during the investigation. After three hours Patrik realized dejectedly that he was only halfway through. When Annika stuck her head in the door, he welcomed the interruption.

‘The detectives from Stockholm are here. Should I bring them to your office, or do you want to sit in the kitchen?’

‘The kitchen,’ said Patrik, standing up. His back creaked, and he reminded himself that he ought to get up and stretch once in a while. He couldn’t afford any back problems now, especially since he’d only recently returned to work after being on sick leave.

He met them in the corridor and paused to shake hands. The woman, who was tall and blond, gripped his hand so hard that he thought his bones would break. The short man with the glasses had a more relaxed handshake.

‘Petra and Konrad, right? I thought we could sit in the kitchen. How was the drive?’

They chatted some more as they took their seats, and Patrik was struck by what an odd pair these two were. Yet they seemed perfectly at ease with each other, and Patrik suspected that they must have worked together for years.

‘We need to talk with Nathalie Wester,’ Petra finally said, having tired of the small talk.

‘As I said, she’s here. Out on her island. I met her about a week ago.’

‘And she didn’t mention her husband?’ Petra fixed her eyes on Patrik, who felt as if he were being interrogated.

‘No, she never said a word. We went out there to talk to her about an old boyfriend. He was found murdered in Fjällbacka.’

‘We read about the case,’ said Konrad. He turned to look at Ernst, who had come into the kitchen. ‘Is he the station’s mascot?’

‘Yes, you might say that.’

‘This is quite a coincidence,’ Petra went on. ‘We have a husband shot to death, and you have an old boyfriend shot to death.’

‘I was thinking the same thing. But we have a possible suspect in our case.’

He briefly told his colleagues what they’d found out about Stefan Ljungberg and the Illegal Eagles. Both Petra and Konrad looked startled when he mentioned the bag of cocaine found in the litter bin.

‘Yet another connection,’ said Petra.

‘The only thing we know is that Sverin had touched the bag.’

Petra waved away Patrik’s protests. ‘No matter what, we need to look into this. Fredrik Wester mostly dealt in cocaine, and his transactions weren’t restricted to Stockholm. With Nathalie as the common link, maybe they got in contact with each other and started doing business together.’

Patrik frowned. ‘I don’t know … Mats Sverin wasn’t exactly the type who …’

‘I’m afraid there isn’t a specific type,’ said Konrad. ‘We’ve seen it all: upper-class youths, mothers of small children, even a pastor.’

‘Oh, right, that guy,’ laughed Petra. She suddenly looked less intimidating.

‘Yes, I realize that,’ said Patrik, feeling like a real country bumpkin. He knew that he was a novice when it came to this type of crime, and his instincts might be wide of the mark. He needed to trust the experience of his Stockholm colleagues instead of paying attention to what his gut was telling him.

‘Let’s hear what you’ve got, then we’ll fill you in on our case,’ said Petra.

Patrik nodded. ‘Okay. Who wants to start?’

‘Go ahead.’ Konrad got out a pen and paper, and Ernst lay down on the floor, disappointed.

Patrik paused to gather his thoughts and then from memory told his colleagues what they’d found out so far. While Konrad took notes, Petra sat and listened intently, her arms crossed.

‘Well, that’s basically all,’ Patrik concluded. ‘Your turn.’

Konrad put down his pen and gave him a summary of their investigation. They hadn’t been working the case very long, but they’d already amassed a lot of information about Fredrik Wester and the narcotics organization he’d been part of. Konrad added that they’d gone over a lot of the details on the previous day, when Martin Molin had phoned. Patrik knew this, but he had wanted to hear their report himself.

‘As you can tell, we’re working closely with our colleagues in the narcotics division on this investigation.’ Konrad shoved his glasses back into place.

‘Yes, that sounds good,’ murmured Patrik. An idea was starting to take shape in his mind. ‘Have you run the bullets through the police database yet?’

Konrad and Petra both shook their head.

‘I talked to the lab yesterday,’ said Konrad, ‘and they were just getting started.’

‘We haven’t received a report yet either, but …’

Petra and Konrad stared at him. Petra suddenly realized what Patrik was getting at.

‘If we asked the lab to compare the bullets from these two cases …’

‘Then we’d probably get the results back quicker,’ said Patrik.

‘I like the way you think.’ Petra glanced at Konrad. ‘Could you give them a call? You’re on good terms with the lab, whereas they’re not too happy with me lately because of—’

Konrad seemed to know exactly what she meant, because he interrupted her and took out his mobile. ‘I’ll ring them now.’

‘Do that. In the meantime, I’ll go and get the information you’ll need.’ Patrik jumped up and ran to his office. He came back with a document that he set on the table in front of Konrad.

Konrad chatted on the phone for a bit, and then made the request. He listened, nodded, and a smile appeared on his face.

‘That’s fantastic. I owe you one. I owe you big time. Thanks!’ Konrad ended the conversation with a satisfied look on his face. ‘I talked to one of the boys I know over there. He’s going to do a comparison right away. He’ll call back the minute it’s done.’

‘Incredible,’ said Patrik, clearly impressed.

Petra seemed unfazed. She was used to Konrad’s ability to accomplish minor miracles.

Anna had slowly made her way home from the cemetery. Erica had offered to drive her, but she wanted to walk. Falkeliden was only a stone’s throw away, and she needed to collect her thoughts. Dan would be waiting at home. He was hurt when she told him that she wanted to visit the grave with Erica and not with him. But right now she just didn’t have the energy to take his feelings into consideration. She was hardly capable of examining her own emotions.

The inscription on the headstone would be etched into her heart for ever. Little One. Maybe they should have tried to come up with a proper name. Afterwards. But that hadn’t felt right. They had called him Little One the whole time he was inside of her and loved by them all. So that was what he would always be called. He would never grow up, never be anything except that little mite that she’d never even held in her arms.

She’d been unconscious for so long, and then it was too late. Dan had held him, wrapped up in a tiny blanket. He’d been able to touch the baby and say goodbye. Even though she knew that wasn’t Dan’s fault, it hurt that he’d had that experience and she hadn’t. Deep in her heart she was also angry at him for not protecting them, her and Little One. She knew that she was being ridiculous and irrational. It had been her decision to get in the car, and he’d not been present when the accident occurred. There was nothing he could have done. And yet she was angry that even Dan had not been able to protect her from bad things happening.

Maybe she had allowed herself to be lulled into a false sense of security. After everything she’d been through, after all those awful years with Lucas, she had convinced herself that it was finally over. That her life with Dan would be a long, straight road, without any unexpected bumps or curves. She hadn’t had any high-flying plans or big dreams. All she wanted was an ordinary life in a row house in Falkeliden, with dinner parties, mortgage payments, football practice for the kids, and the ever-present piles of shoes in the front hall. Was that asking too much?

In some sense she had viewed Dan as the guarantor for that sort of life. He was so steady and stable, always calm and with the ability to see beyond any problems that arose. She had leaned on him, without standing on her own two feet. But he had fallen, and she didn’t know how she was going to forgive him for that.

She opened the front door and went in. Her whole body ached after the walk, and her arms felt heavy as she lifted them to take off her scarf. Dan glanced at her from the kitchen and then stood motionless in the doorway. He didn’t say a word, just looked at her with a pleading expression. She averted her eyes.

‘I’m going upstairs to lie down,’ she mumbled.

Anders was slowly packing up everything. He had enjoyed living in this small flat, which had come to feel like a real home. That was not something that he and Vivianne had experienced very often. They’d lived in so many different places, and just when they were settling in and making friends, it would be time to move on. They would have to pack their belongings when people started asking questions, when neighbours and teachers started worrying about them, and when the ladies from social services finally began to see through Olof’s charms.

As adults, he and Vivianne had done the same thing. It was as if the two of them carried a sense of insecurity with them, as if it were in their bones. They were constantly on the move, going from one place to another, just as they’d done with Olof.

He’d been dead for a long time now, yet they still lived in his shadow. The pattern was repeated. Things were different but somehow just the same.

Anders closed the lid of his suitcase. He had decided to suffer the consequences. In his heart, he was already missing her, but it was impossible to make an omelette without cracking some eggs, as Vivianne liked to say. Though he knew she was right, it was going to take years to make this particular omelette, and he wasn’t sure that he could predict the results. But he was going to tell her. There was no use starting something new without admitting to what he’d done. He had spent too many sleepless nights coming to this conclusion, and now he’d made up his mind.

Anders looked around the flat. He felt both relieved and filled with dread. It took courage to choose to stay instead of running away again. At the same time, it was the easiest route to take. He lifted his suitcase off the bed, then set it on the floor. There was no more time for brooding. He needed to tend to the festivities. And he was going to help Vivianne to make sure the party was a huge success. That was the least he could do for her.

The time hadn’t gone as slowly as Patrik had feared. They had discussed both cases while they waited for the phone call from the lab, and Patrik had felt the adrenalin kick in. Although Paula and Martin were highly skilled police officers, he noticed that his Stockholm colleagues had a whole different mindset. Above all, he envied the working partnership that Petra and Konrad shared. Patrik could see that they were made for each other. Petra was excitable, and she was constantly coming up with new ideas and firing out suggestions. Konrad was more tactful and introspective, and he was able to offer insightful comments to Petra’s outpourings.

When the phone rang, all three of them jumped. Konrad answered.

‘Yes? Okay. Hmm … Really?’

Petra and Patrik stared at him. Was he saying so little just to torment them? Finally he ended the conversation and leaned back in his chair. They kept on staring at him until he finally spoke.

‘They match. The bullets match.’

For a moment there was total silence in the room.

‘Are they positive about that?’ Patrik then asked.

‘A hundred per cent positive. There’s no doubt whatsoever. The same gun was used in both murders.’

‘Bloody hell.’ Petra had a big smile on her face.

‘Now it’s even more vital that we talk with Wester’s widow. There must be some link between the victims, and I’m guessing it has to do with cocaine. Considering the type of individuals that might be involved, I wouldn’t feel very safe if I were in Nathalie’s shoes.’

‘Shall we go out there?’ asked Petra, getting up.

Patrik was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he barely heard what she said. Vague suspicions were starting to gel into a pattern.

‘I need to check on a few things first. Could you wait a couple of hours before we go out there?’

‘Okay, we can do that,’ said Petra, but it was obvious that she was impatient.

‘Great. You can make yourselves at home here, or you could take a walk around town. If you’re hungry, I can recommend the food at Tanums Gestgiveri.’

His Stockholm colleagues nodded.

‘We’ll go and have lunch. Just point us in the right direction,’ said Konrad.

After Patrik had told them how to find the restaurant, he took a deep breath and went back to his office. It was important not to be too hasty. He needed to make several phone calls, so he started with Torbjörn. He wasn’t sure he’d get hold of him, since it was Saturday, but Torbjörn answered his phone. Patrik briefly told him what they’d found out about the bullets, and then he asked Torbjörn if he could compare the unidentified fingerprints from the cocaine bag with the prints they’d found on both the inside and outside of Sverin’s front door. Patrik also warned him that he’d be sending over a new fingerprint to compare with the others. Torbjörn started asking questions, but Patrik cut him off. He would explain later.

The next task on his list was to locate a specific report. He knew it was somewhere in the stack on his desk, so he began leafing through the documents. Finally he found it. Carefully he read the odd, brief report. Then he went into Martin’s office.

‘I need your help.’ He put the report on Martin’s desk. ‘Can you remember any more details about this?’

Martin looked at Patrik in surprise but then shook his head.

‘No, I’m afraid not. Although I’m not going to forget that particular witness for a very long time.’

‘Could you go back there and ask a few more questions?’

‘Sure.’ He looked as if he would burst with curiosity.

‘I mean now,’ said Patrik when Martin made no move to get up.

‘Okay, okay.’ He jumped to his feet. ‘I’ll ring as soon as I find out anything more,’ he said over his shoulder. Then he stopped. ‘But can’t you at least tell me why …’

‘Go now. We’ll talk about it later.’

Two things taken care of. One more to go. Patrik went to the sea chart hanging on the wall in the corridor. After trying to prise off a thumbtack, he finally lost patience and yanked the map off the wall, tearing several corners. Then he took it into Gösta’s office.

‘Have you talked to that guy who knows the archipelago near Fjällbacka?’

Gösta nodded. ‘Yup. I gave him all the information, and he was going to mull it over. It’s not an exact science, but it might give us a lead.’

‘Call him up and give him this information too.’ Patrik set the sea chart on Gösta’s desk and showed him what he was talking about.

Gösta raised an eyebrow.

‘Is this urgent?’

‘Yes. Call him now and ask him for a quick opinion. All he needs to tell us is whether it’s possible. Or reasonable. Then come and let me know what he says.’

‘You got it.’ Gösta reached for the phone.

Patrik returned to his office and sat down at the desk. He was out of breath, as if he’d been running, and his heart was pounding. Thoughts continued to whirl through his mind. More details, more questions, more speculations. At the same time, he felt that he was on the right track. But all he could do at the moment was wait. He stared out of the window and drummed his fingers on the desktop. The shrill ring of his mobile gave him a start.

He answered the phone and then listened intently.

‘Thanks for calling, Ulf. Keep me posted, okay?’ Then he ended the conversation.

His heart was pounding again. This time from anger. That bastard had found Madeleine and her children. Her father had mustered the courage to ring the police and report that his daughter’s ex-husband had forced his way into their flat and left with both Madeleine and the kids. Since then, they hadn’t heard a word from them. Patrik realized that they must have already gone missing when he and Ulf were out at the farm. Were they somewhere on the property, locked up and in need of help? Patrik clenched his fists, feeling helpless. Ulf had assured him that they would do everything they could to find Madeleine, but he didn’t sound hopeful.

An hour later Konrad and Petra appeared in the doorway.

‘Are we ready to go now?’ asked Petra.

‘Not quite yet. There’s one more thing we need to work out.’ Patrik wasn’t sure how to explain. So much was still murky and hazy.

‘And what’s that?’ Petra frowned. She clearly didn’t want to waste any more time.

‘Let’s meet in the kitchen.’ Patrik got up and went to summon the others. After hesitating for a moment, he also knocked on Mellberg’s door.

When everyone had gathered, Patrik introduced Petra and Konrad. Then he cleared his throat and slowly began explaining his theory, careful to include those areas that still had major holes. When he was finished, everyone sat in silence for a moment.

‘What would be the motive?’ asked Konrad. He sounded both hopeful and sceptical.

‘I don’t know. That’s what we still have to work out. But the theory holds up, even though there are some gaps that have to be filled in.’

‘How should we proceed?’ asked Paula.

‘I’ve talked to Torbjörn and told him that we’d be sending over a new fingerprint ASAP, so he can compare it with the prints on the door and the paper bag. If it matches, everything else will be easier. Then we’ll have a link to the murder.’

‘The murders,’ said Petra. She looked dubious but at the same time slightly impressed.

‘Who’s going with us?’ asked Konrad, looking at the others. He was starting to get up, as if to head out the door at once.

‘I’ll go with the two of you. That should be plenty,’ said Patrik. ‘Everyone else will keep working on the new leads.’

The minute they stepped out into the sunshine, Patrik’s mobile rang. When he saw that it was his mother calling him, he didn’t want to answer, but finally he decided to take the call. Impatiently he listened to his mother pouring out her worries. She couldn’t get hold of Erica even though she’d tried ringing her mobile several times. When she told Patrik where Erica had gone, he stopped abruptly. Without saying goodbye, he ended the phone call and turned to Petra and Konrad.

‘We have to go. Now.’

Erica opened the door and nearly toppled over backwards. She almost threw up, and she realized that she was right. It was the smell of a corpse. A suffocating and deeply disturbing stench that was impossible to mistake for anything else once you’d smelled it. She stepped inside, holding her arm over her nose and mouth as she tried to shut out the smell. But it was impossible. It was so penetrating, seeming to seep into every pore, just as it had clung to Nathalie’s clothes.

She looked around, her eyes filling with tears from the stench. Cautiously she took a few more steps inside the small house. Everything was quiet and peaceful. Only the distant sound of the sea could be heard. Nausea threatened to overwhelm her, but she fought off the urge to escape into the fresh air.

From where she stood, she could survey the entire ground floor. There were only ordinary things to see. A sweater hanging over the back of a chair, a coffee cup on the table next to an open book. Nothing that could explain the cloying, disgusting smell that hovered like a blanket over everything.

One door was closed. Erica dreaded opening that door, but now that she’d come this far, she knew that she had to do it. Her hands shook and her legs suddenly felt like jelly. She wanted to turn around and run out the front door to the boat and go home. Home to the fragrant scent of her babies’ hair. But she moved closer. She saw her trembling right hand reach out and take hold of the door handle. Still she hesitated to press it down, didn’t dare see what was inside that room.

A sudden gust of wind on her legs made her turn around. But it was too late. Suddenly everything went black.

The guests of honour who had come from further away were chattering happily as they disembarked from the buses arriving from Göteborg. Sparkling wine had been served during the drive to Fjällbacka, with the result that everyone was now in a glorious mood.

‘It’s going to be great.’ Anders put his arm around his sister’s shoulders as they waited to welcome the guests.

Vivianne smiled joylessly. This was the beginning, but it was also the end. And she was unable to enjoy the present moment when it was only the future that mattered. A future that no longer felt as certain as it once had.

She studied her brother’s profile as he stood in the open doorway of Badis. There was something different about him. She’d always been able to read him like an open book, but now he’d retreated to a place where she was unable to reach him.

‘What a splendid day, my darling.’ Erling kissed her on the lips. He looked rested. Yesterday she had given him the sleeping tablet at seven o’clock, so he’d slept for thirteen hours straight. Now he was practically bounding around in his white suit. After giving her another kiss, he hurried off.

The guests began entering the building.

‘Welcome. I hope you have a pleasant stay at Badis.’ Vivianne shook hands, smiling and repeating her words of welcome again and again. She looked as if she’d stepped out of a fairytale, wearing a white, ankle-length gown, and with her thick hair hanging in a plait down her back, as usual.

When everyone had gone inside, and she and Anders were alone for a moment, her smile faded and her expression grew serious. She turned to face her brother.

‘We always tell each other everything, don’t we?’ she said in a low voice. She ached with longing to hear him say what she wanted to hear. She truly wanted to believe him. But Anders looked away, and didn’t say a word.

Vivianne was about to ask him again, but a late-arriving guest was approaching the entrance, so she plastered on her warmest smile. Inside, she felt ice-cold.

‘Why did your wife go out there?’ asked Petra.

Patrik was driving to Fjällbacka as fast as he dared. He explained about the books that Erica wrote and told them that lately she had started researching Gråskär, just for her own amusement.

‘She probably wanted to show Nathalie what she’d found.’

‘There’s no reason to think that she’s in any danger,’ said Konrad, sitting in the back seat and trying to reassure Patrik.

‘No, I realize that,’ said Patrik. At the same time he had a feeling that he needed to get out to Gråskär as fast as possible. He had phoned Peter, who promised to have the Coast Guard vessel ready when they arrived.

‘I’m still wondering what the motive could be,’ said Konrad.

‘Hopefully we’ll find out soon – if Patrik is right, that is.’ Petra didn’t sound completely convinced.

‘So you’re saying that, according to a witness, Mats Sverin had a woman in the car with him when he came home on the night he was shot? How reliable is the witness?’ Konrad leaned forward to stick his head between the front seats. Outside the car windows, the countryside was passing by at breakneck speed, but neither Petra nor Konrad seemed particularly concerned.

Patrik considered how much he should tell them. The truth was that Old Man Grip was not the most reliable of witnesses. For a start, he claimed that it was his cat who had seen the woman. That was the first thing that had occurred to Patrik when he heard that the bullets matched. In Martin’s report, it said that the cat was sitting in the window, hissing at the car, and a few lines above it said: ‘Marilyn doesn’t like women. She hisses at them.’ Martin hadn’t noticed the connection, and Patrik hadn’t either when he first read the report. But combined with the other details that had emerged, it was enough for Patrik to send Martin back to have another talk with Grip. This time he managed to get the man to admit that a woman was seen getting out of the car that had stopped in front of the block of flats in the early hours of Saturday. After hesitating a bit, he had also confirmed that it was Sverin’s car. Unfortunately, Grip continued to insist that it was his cat who had seen all of this. Patrik decided to omit this last detail for the time being.

‘The witness is certain,’ he said, hoping that would satisfy his colleagues. The important thing now was to reach Erica as quickly as possible and have a talk with Nathalie. Everything else could wait. Besides, they had the boat. According to the expert that Gösta had talked to, it was not only possible but very likely that Sverin’s boat had drifted from Gråskär when it ended up stranded in that inlet.

In Patrik’s mind, a plausible chain of events had begun to unfold. Mats had gone out to visit Nathalie, and for some reason she had then accompanied him in his boat to Fjällbacka. They had driven to Mats’s flat, where she had shot him. He had trusted Nathalie, so he didn’t hesitate to turn his back on her. Then she had gone back to the harbour, taken Sverin’s boat to Gråskär, and let it go from there, causing it to drift off until it got stuck and was later found. That much was crystal clear. Except that Patrik still didn’t have any idea why Nathalie would want to kill Mats and possibly also her husband. And why did they leave Gråskär and go back to Fjällbacka in the middle of the night? Did it have something to do with the cocaine? Had Mats been involved in business transactions with Nathalie’s husband? Did the unidentified fingerprint on the bag belong to her?

Patrik stepped even harder on the accelerator. Now they were racing through Fjällbacka, and he slowed down a bit when he almost ran into an elderly man who was crossing the street near Ingrid Bergman Square.

He parked the car at the harbour near the Coast Guard vessel and jumped out. He was relieved to see that Peter had already started up the motor. Konrad and Petra trotted after him and jumped on board.

‘Don’t worry,’ Konrad said. ‘At this point, it’s all speculation, and there’s no reason to believe that your wife is in danger, even if your theory turns out to be correct.’

Patrik glanced at him as he held on to the railing of the boat, which was speeding out of the harbour faster than was normally allowed.

‘You don’t know Erica. She has a talent for sticking her nose into everyone’s business. Even people who have nothing to hide think that she asks too many questions. You might say that she’s really persistent.’

‘She sounds like a woman after my own heart,’ said Petra, staring with fascination at the archipelago they were traversing.

‘And besides, she’s not answering her mobile,’ said Patrik.

No one said a word for the rest of the crossing. They saw the lighthouse in the distance, and Patrik felt his stomach lurch with fear as they neared the island. He couldn’t stop thinking about the other name for Gråskär, the name that the locals called it: Ghost Isle. And why it had got the name.

Peter slowed down and steered the boat over to the dock, next to the wooden motorboat that belonged to Erica and Patrik. There was no one in sight, either living or dead.

Everything was going to be fine. They were together. She and Sam. And the dead were keeping watch over them.

Nathalie hummed as she stood in the water holding Sam in her arms. It was a song that she had always sung to him when he was younger and couldn’t sleep. He lay in her arms and felt so light because the water was helping to carry him. A few drops splashed upon his face, and she carefully wiped them away. He didn’t like getting water in his face. As soon as he was feeling better, she was going to teach him to swim. He was old enough now to learn to swim and ride a bike, and soon he’d be losing his baby teeth. Then he’d have a big gap in his teeth, showing that he would soon leave the first years of childhood behind.

Fredrik had always been impatient with Sam and demanded too much of him. He thought that she coddled him, claiming that she wanted him to remain a child. Fredrik was wrong. She wanted nothing more than for Sam to grow up, but he had to do it at his own pace.

Then he had tried to take Sam away from her. In that arrogant voice of his, Fredrik had said that the boy would be better off with a different mother. The memory started encroaching, and she hummed louder to make it go away. But those terrible words had already crept into her soul, drowning out the song. The other woman would be better, he had told her. She was the one who would be Sam’s new mother and accompany him and Sam to Italy. Nathalie wasn’t going to be his mother any more. She was going to disappear.

Fredrik’s face had been filled with such smug satisfaction that she hadn’t doubted for a moment that he meant what he’d said. How she hated him. Anger began growing somewhere deep inside of her and then took over her whole body before she could stop it. Fredrik had got what he deserved. He couldn’t hurt them any more. She had seen his rigid expression. She had seen the blood.

Now she and Sam could live in peace here on the island. She looked down at his face. He was sleeping. No one was going to take him away from her. No one.

Patrik asked Peter to wait in the boat. Then he went ashore with Konrad and Petra. On the table in the open-sided boathouse they saw that someone had served coffee there. When they walked past, several seagulls flew up from a plate full of buns.

‘They’re probably in the house,’ said Petra, taking a good look around.

‘Come on.’ Patrik was impatient, but Konrad gently took him by the arm.

‘I think we need to be a bit cautious now.’

Patrik realized that he was right. He headed for the house, walking calmly even though he wanted to run. At the house, they knocked on the door. When no one answered, Petra leaned forward and knocked harder.

‘Hello?’ she called.

Still not a sound from inside. Patrik pushed down the handle, and the door swung open. He took a step forward then nearly backed into Konrad and Petra as the smell overwhelmed him.

‘Shit,’ he said, putting his hand over his nose and mouth. He had to swallow several times in order not to throw up.

‘Shit,’ echoed Konrad from behind him. He too looked as if he were fighting back nausea. Only Petra seemed unperturbed, and Patrik cast an astonished glance in her direction.

‘I’ve got a weak sense of smell,’ she told him.

Then Patrik entered the house and immediately caught sight of the person lying on the floor.

‘Erica?’ He ran over and dropped to his knees. With his heart in his throat, he put out his hand to touch her. She stirred and let out a groan.

He said her name over and over, and she slowly turned her head to look at him. Only then did he see the wound at her temple. With an effort she lifted her hand to touch it, and her eyes opened wide when she saw the blood on her fingers.

‘Patrik? Nathalie … she …’ Erica began sobbing and Patrik stroked her cheek.

‘Is she okay?’ asked Petra.

Patrik motioned with his hand to indicate that she was going to be all right. Then Petra and Konrad went upstairs to see what they could find up there.

‘The place seems to be empty,’ said Petra when they came back. ‘Have you checked in there?’ She pointed at the closed door behind Erica.

Patrik shook his head, so Petra cautiously stepped around them and opened the door.

‘Bloody hell. Come and look.’ She motioned to them, but Patrik stayed where he was and let Konrad follow his colleague.

‘What do you see?’ asked Patrik, glancing at the partially open door, which blocked his view of what was inside.

‘Whatever the smell is, it’s coming from inside this room.’ Konrad came out, holding his hand over his mouth and nose.

‘A dead body?’ For a moment Patrik thought it must be Nathalie lying inside there, but then a thought occurred to him that drained all the colour from his face. ‘Is it the boy?’ he whispered.

Petra came out of the room too. ‘I don’t know. There’s nothing in there now. But the bed is a horrible mess and it stinks to high heaven. Even I can smell it.’

Konrad nodded.

‘It must be the boy. We saw Nathalie a week ago, and I’m guessing that the body must have been here longer than that.’

Erica was struggling to sit up, and Patrik put his arm around her for support.

‘We have to find them.’ He looked at his wife. ‘What happened here?’

‘We were up in the lighthouse. I noticed the smell on Nathalie’s clothes and started to wonder. So I slipped over here to check things out. She must have hit me on the head …’ Erica’s voice faded.

Patrik looked up at Konrad and Petra.

‘What did I tell you? She’s always sticking her nose in things.’ He smiled, but he looked worried.

‘You didn’t see the boy?’ asked Petra, squatting down.

Erica shook her head, then grimaced with pain.

‘No, I never got a chance to open the door. But you have to find them,’ she said, repeating what Patrik had said. ‘I’m fine. Go look for Nathalie and Sam.’

‘Let’s carry her down to the boat,’ said Patrik.

He ignored Erica’s protests and the three of them carried her to the dock and then carefully lifted her down to Peter.

‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ Patrik didn’t want to leave Erica when he looked at the bloody wound on her head and saw how pale her face was.

She waved him away. ‘Go on. I’m fine. I told you that.’

Reluctantly Patrik turned away.

‘Where do you think they’ve gone?’

‘They must be on the other side of the island,’ said Petra.

‘Yes, because their boat is still here,’ said Konrad.

They started walking over the rocks. The island seemed just as deserted as when they arrived, and except for the lapping of the waves and the screeching of the seagulls, there wasn’t a sound.

‘They might be up in the lighthouse.’ Patrik leaned back so he could peer up at the tower.

‘Maybe, but I think we should search the island first,’ said Petra. She shaded her eyes with her hand in an attempt to look through the glass panes at the top of the lighthouse. But she didn’t see anyone moving around up there either.

‘Are you coming?’ called Konrad.

The highest point on the island was only a short distance away, and they cast glances left and right as they walked. Once they reached the top of the hill, they’d have a view of almost all of Gråskär. But they were moving cautiously. They didn’t know what sort of state of mind Nathalie was in, and she had a gun. The question was whether she was prepared to use it. The cloying smell of the corpse still clung to their nostrils. They were all thinking the same thing, but none of them dared say it out loud.

They climbed up to the crest of the hill.

They had arrived by boat, just as she thought. She heard voices from the dock, voices from the house. Their escape route from the island was blocked. She couldn’t get to the boat to flee. She and Sam were caught.

Nathalie had thought that Erica was on their side, but then she tried to push her way into their world. So she had been forced to act, and she had done the right thing. She had protected Sam, just as she had promised him she would, the instant he was placed in her arms at the hospital. She had promised not to let anything bad happen to him. For a long time she had been a coward and failed to keep her promise. But ever since that night, she had been strong. She had rescued Sam.

Slowly she moved further into the water. Her jeans felt heavy against her legs, dragging her forward. Sam was so sweet, lying quietly in her arms.

Someone came over to her, wading alongside her and following her into the water. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the woman holding up her heavy skirts. After a moment she let her skirts drop so that they floated in the water all around her. She had her eyes fixed on Nathalie. Her lips were moving, but Nathalie refused to listen. If she did, she wouldn’t be able to protect Sam any longer. She shut her eyes to make the woman go away, but when she opened them, she couldn’t help glancing in that direction again, as if something were forcing her to look.

Now the woman was carrying a child in her arms. He hadn’t been there a moment ago. Nathalie was sure of that. But now he too was looking at her with big, pleading eyes. He was talking to Sam. Nathalie wanted to put her hands over her ears and scream to shut out the voices of the boy and the woman. But her hands were holding Sam, and the scream stuck in her throat. Her shirt was starting to get wet, and she gasped for breath as the cold water reached her stomach. The woman was walking very close. She and the boy were both talking at once – the woman to Nathalie, and the boy to Sam. Against her will, Nathalie started to listen to what they were saying. The voices forced their way in just like the salt water was soaking through her clothes and reaching her skin.

They had come to the end of the road, she and Sam. Any minute now, those people would find them and finish what they’d begun. The memory of the blood spattering the wall and colouring Fredrik’s face flashed through her mind for a moment. Nathalie shook her head to make those images go away. Were they dreams or fantasies? Or were they real? She no longer knew. She remembered only the icy feeling of hatred and panic. And a fear so great that it seized hold of her, leaving only the most primitive and furious of reactions.

When the water came up to her armpits, she could feel how light Sam was in her arms. The woman and the boy were very close. Their voices were close to her ear, and she clearly heard what they said. Nathalie closed her eyes and finally relented. They were right. A sense of certainty filled her body and made all fear disappear. She knew that they wished her and Sam well, and she stood there, letting a feeling of calm wash over her.

Far behind her, she thought she heard other voices. Others who were calling her, who wanted something, and who were trying to get her to listen. She ignored them. They were less real than the voices so close to her ear that were still talking.

‘Let him go,’ said the woman gently.

‘I want to play with him,’ said the boy.

Nathalie nodded. She needed to let go. That was what they had wanted the whole time, what they had tried to explain. He belonged to them now. He belonged to the others.

Slowly she released her hold on Sam. She let the sea take him, let him disappear beneath the surface to be carried away on the currents. Then she took a step forward, and another. All the voices were still talking. She heard them both near and in the distance, but again she chose not to listen. She wanted to follow Sam and be one of them. What else should she do?

The woman’s voice was pleading, but the water rose up over her ears, drowning out all sounds and replacing them with a roar, as if from the blood that was rushing through her body. Onward she went, feeling the water closing over her head and the air being pressed out of her lungs.

Then something dragged her upwards. The woman was surprisingly strong. She pulled her to the surface, and Nathalie felt anger rise up inside of her. Why wasn’t she allowed to follow her son? She fought back, but the woman refused to let go and kept dragging her back towards life.

Another pair of hands grabbed hold of her body and pulled her up. Her head broke through the surface and her lungs filled with air. Nathalie uttered a scream that rose up towards the sky. She wanted to go back under the water, but instead she felt herself being dragged towards land.

Then the woman and the boy were gone. Just like Sam.

Nathalie felt herself being lifted up and carried away. She gave up. They had found her at last.

The party went on all evening and well into the early morning hours. Everyone enjoyed the excellent food, the wine flowed, the guests of honour and the locals mingled, and new friends were made on the dance floor. In other words, it was a very successful event.

Vivianne went over to Anders as he stood leaning against the railing, watching the couples dance.

‘We’ve got to leave now.’

He nodded, but something in his expression made her feel more uneasy than ever.

‘Come on.’ She tugged at his sleeve. Without looking her in the eye, he turned and followed her.

She had hidden her suitcase in one of the rooms that wasn’t reserved for guests. She picked it up and headed for the door, ready to leave.

‘Where’s your suitcase? We have to leave in ten minutes, otherwise we might miss our plane.’

Anders didn’t reply. Instead he sank down on to the bed and stared at the floor.

‘Anders?’ She had a tight grip on the handle of her suitcase.

‘I love you,’ whispered Anders. Those words suddenly sounded ominous.

‘We have to go,’ she said, but she knew in her heart that he wasn’t going with her. In the distance they could hear the thudding music. She set her suitcase on the floor and sat down next to him.

‘I can’t.’ He looked at her. His eyes filled with tears.

‘What have you done?’ She didn’t want to hear what he said, didn’t want to know that her worst fears had come true. But she couldn’t stop herself from asking the question.

‘Done? Good Lord, did you think I was the one who …?’

Anders shook his head and began laughing as he wiped away his tears with the back of his hand. ‘Good Lord, Vivianne. No!’

She felt enormously relieved, but in that case, she really didn’t understand what was going on.

‘Why then?’ Vivianne put her arm around her brother’s shoulders, and he leaned his head against her. That conjured up so many memories of all the times they had sat like this, with their heads close together.

‘You know that I love you.’

‘Yes, I know that.’ And suddenly she understood. She straightened up so she could get a proper look at him. Gently she took his face in her hands. ‘My dear brother, have you fallen in love with someone?’

‘I can’t go with you,’ he said, his eyes again filling with tears. ‘I know that we promised each other that we’d always stay together. But you’ll have to make this trip without me.’

‘If you’re happy, then I’m happy too. It’s as simple as that. I’ll miss you terribly, but there’s nothing I want more than for you to have your own life.’ She smiled. ‘But you do have to tell me who it is. Otherwise I can’t leave.’

He mentioned a name, and Vivianne pictured a woman they’d worked with in connection with Project Badis. Again she smiled.

‘You have good taste,’ she said, and then fell silent for a moment. ‘You’re going to have to do a lot of explaining, and you’ll be held responsible. Should I really leave you alone with all this? I’ll stay if you want me to.’

Anders shook his head.

‘I want you to go. Bask in the sun and enjoy it for me too. I doubt I’m going to see much daylight for a while, but she knows about everything and has promised to wait for me.’

‘What about the money?’

‘It’s all yours,’ he said without hesitation. ‘I don’t need any of it.’

‘Are you sure?’ Again she took his face in her hands, as if touching him would help her to remember his familiar features.

He nodded and took her hands away.

‘I’m sure. And now you have to go. The plane won’t wait for you.’

He stood up and grabbed her suitcase. Without another word he carried it out to the car and put it in the boot. No one saw them. The hum of voices blended with the music, and everyone was focused on other things.

Vivianne got into the driver’s seat.

‘We did a good job, didn’t we?’ She glanced up at Badis, which glittered in the dim light.

‘A damned good job.’

For a moment neither of them spoke. Then Vivianne took off her engagement ring and handed it to Anders.

‘Here. Give this back to Erling. He’s not a bad person. I hope he finds somebody else to give it to some day.’

Anders put it in his trouser pocket.

‘I’ll make sure he gets it.’

They stared at each other in silence. Then Vivianne closed the door and started up the car. Anders stood there for a long time, watching as she sped away. Then he slowly went up the stairs to Badis. He had decided to be the last person to leave the party.