‘On paper, yes. But this was where Christian always retreated in order to be alone and to write. I think he must have considered it his private refuge.’
‘And?’ said Patrik, sitting down on the narrow sofa next to the wall. He was so tired that his legs could barely hold him up any longer.
‘I don’t know.’ Erica looked around uncertainly. ‘I just thought that…’
‘What did you think?’ said Patrik. The boathouse wasn’t much of a hiding place, no matter what they were looking for. It consisted of two miniscule rooms, and the ceiling was so low that Patrik had to stoop. The place was filled with old fishing gear, and over by the window stood a worn drop-leaf table. Anyone who sat there would have a magnificent view of the Fjallbacka archipelago. And of Badholmen.
‘I hope we find out soon,’ said Patrik as he stared at the diving tower, a looming black shape against the sky.
‘Find out what?’ Erica was aimlessly roaming about in the cramped space.
‘Whether it was murder or suicide.’
‘You mean Christian?’ said Erica, but she didn’t wait for his answer. ‘If only I could find… damn it, I thought… then we’d be able to…’ She was muttering incoherently, and Patrik couldn’t help laughing at her.
‘You look like you’re really confused. Can’t you at least tell me what we’re looking for? Then maybe I could help.’
‘I think that Magnus was murdered here. And I was hoping I could find something…’ She scrutinized the rough, blue-painted wooden walls.
‘Here?’ Patrik got up and began studying the walls too. Then he looked at the floor and after a moment he said:
‘The rug.’
‘What do you mean? It’s perfectly clean.’
‘Exactly. It’s too clean. In fact, it looks brand-new. Here, help me lift it up.’ He grabbed hold of one end of the heavy rag rug. With an effort Erica picked up the other end.
‘Oh, sorry, sweetheart. It might be too heavy for you. Don’t strain yourself,’ said Patrik with concern as he heard his very pregnant wife puffing.
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘Come on, let’s do it instead of standing here chattering.’
They moved the rug aside and looked at the wooden floorboards underneath. They looked very clean.
‘Maybe in the other room?’ said Erica. But when they glanced inside, they saw a floor that was equally clean, and without any rug on top.
‘I wonder if…’
‘What?’ asked Erica, but Patrik didn’t answer. Instead, he knelt down on the floor and began examining the cracks between the floorboards. After a moment he stood up.
‘We need to get the tech guys over here and then wait for their results. But I think you’re right. The place has been meticulously cleaned, but it looks like blood ran down between the planks.’
‘If that’s true, shouldn’t the planks have soaked up some of the blood too?’ said Erica.
‘Yes, but that would be hard to see with the naked eye if someone scrubbed the floor afterwards.’ Patrik squinted at the old planks, which were discoloured with age in numerous places.
‘So he died here?’ Even though Erica had been sure of her theory, she could still feel her heart beating faster.
‘Yes, I think so. And this place is close to the water, where the body could be dumped. So now will you tell me what’s going on?’
‘Let’s take another look around first,’ she said, ignoring the look of frustration on Patrik’s face. ‘Go and check up there.’ She pointed to the attic above them. The only access was by means of a rope ladder.
‘Are you kidding?’
‘It’s either you or me.’ And Erica demonstratively placed her hands on her huge stomach.
‘Okay,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I suppose it’s easy enough to climb up there. And I assume you’re still not going to tell me what I’m looking for, right?’
‘I’m not really sure,’ said Erica truthfully. ‘I just have a feeling that…’
‘A feeling? I’m supposed to climb up a rope ladder because of a feeling?’
‘Just do it.’
Patrik went up the ladder and crawled inside the attic.
‘Do you see anything?’ called Erica, craning her neck.
‘Of course I see something. But it’s mostly old blankets, rags, and a few comic books. It looks like the kids’ cubbyhole.’
‘Nothing else?’ said Erica, feeling discouraged.
‘No, it doesn’t look like it.’
Patrik began coming back down the rope ladder but then stopped midway.
‘What’s in there?’
‘Where?’
‘In there.’ He was pointing to a hatch door right next to the opening to the attic.
‘That’s usually where people store their junk in boathouses, but let’s check.’
‘Okay, take it easy. I’ll do it.’ He tried to balance on the ladder as he used one hand to jiggle the hasp loose. He could see that it was possible to lift away the entire hatch door, so he gripped one side of it, pulled it off, and handed it to Erica below. Then he turned to look inside.
‘What the hell?’ he said in surprise.
Suddenly the hooks that attached the ladder to the ceiling gave way, and with a crash Patrik fell to the floor.
Louise filled a wine glass with mineral water, then raised it to drink a toast. It would soon be all over for him. The police officer she’d spoken to had understood immediately what was going on. And he’d told her that they would be taking prompt action. He had also thanked her for ringing. ‘You’re very welcome,’ she had replied. ‘It was my pleasure.’
I wonder what they’ll do with him? she mused. The idea hadn’t really occurred to Louise until now. Her only thought was to stop him, prevent him from fleeing like a cowardly brute with his tail between his legs. But what would happen if Erik was sent to prison? Would she still get back all the money? She started feeling anxious, but then calmed down. Of course she’d get the money back. And she planned to thoroughly enjoy spending every ore of it. He would sit there in his prison cell, knowing that she was using up all of his – and her – money. And he wouldn’t be able to do shit about it.
Suddenly she made up her mind. She wanted to see his expression. She wanted to see how he looked when he realized it was all over.
‘I’ve seen a lot in my day, but this… this takes the cake,’ said Torbjorn. He was standing on the ladder that they’d borrowed from the boathouse next door.
‘It really does beat all,’ said Patrik, rubbing the small of his back, which he’d hit hard when he fell. His chest was aching a bit too.
‘There’s no doubt that it’s blood, at any rate. And a lot of it.’ Torbjorn pointed at the floor, which now had an odd sheen to it. The luminol revealed all traces of blood, no matter how much the surface had been scrubbed. ‘We’ve taken a few samples that the lab should be able to match with the victim’s blood.’
‘Good. Thanks.’
‘So these things belong to Christian Thydell?’ said Torbjorn. ‘The man we cut down from the diving tower?’ He crawled into the small space, and Patrik cautiously climbed up the ladder to join him.
‘That’s what it looks like.’
‘But why…?’ Torbjorn began but then stopped himself. This wasn’t his case. His task was to secure the technical evidence, and with time he’d have all the answers. He pointed.
‘Is this the letter you were talking about?’
‘Yes. At least it proves that his death was definitely a suicide.’
‘It certainly does,’ said Torbjorn, although he still couldn’t believe his eyes. The whole space was filled with
