first, but then they want her real name, her personal number and address. Since I can’t answer a single one of those questions, they can’t help me. When I mention that she’s homeless, they turn frosty. Homeless? Can’t help you there. Then they say a polite phrase or two and hang up. I decided to press this last person for more details, like their routines for homeless people. Do you know what they do with them?”
“No, what?”
“They pick a part of the city to place them in. By lot.”
“By lot?”
“Yep. Mama Bird could have been assigned the social-welfare office in Torslanda, and they would be in charge of her welfare. But how is she supposed to know that? There’s no address to send her the information. Her true address is the garden shed in Lowander Hospital Park. It’s a great system. They raffle responsibility to someone who has never met the homeless person in question. This person is now the homeless person’s caseworker on paper. Society has done its duty and made sure that the homeless person has his or her own caseworker. And the two never meet.”
Tommy looked at the telephone bitterly, as if it represented the social-welfare offices.
“I assume there’s no need to bother with the welfare office.”
Tommy nodded and shrugged. “So it seems. We’ll have to search all the city districts. But I don’t think that’ll lead anywhere.”
“What should we do, then?”
“Let’s go try the Salvation Army or the City Mission.”
“How about lunch?”
“Okay, lunch first.”
IT WAS THREE in the afternoon by the time Tommy and Irene got out of the car at the police station. Tommy was to continue calling to find out about Mama Bird. He borrowed Birgitta and Fredrik’s office, since Irene would be hosting her interviews in the office he shared with her. Irene decided to put her report together before Andreas Svard showed up.
At exactly 4:00 P.M., Andreas Svard knocked on Irene’s door. He was dressed as elegantly as he’d been the previous evening. His pale color was underscored by the dark blue overcoat, black pants, and black shoes he wore. As he took off his coat, Irene saw he was wearing a black jacket, a dark blue tie, and a white shirt. Obviously Andreas was dressed in mourning, and his face reflected his sorrow. His eyes were still bloodshot. Irene wondered if he’d had a fight with Niklas about his lunch outings with his ex-wife.
“Have you learned anything new?” Andreas asked directly.
“No, but we have a possible witness.”
“The one mentioned in the paper?”
“Yes, among others.”
Irene was purposely vague. It was obvious that Andreas Svard was affected by the murder, but he could also be afraid of what the police would find. She decided to feel him out.
“How did you and Niklas start your relationship?”
“Is this of any importance?”
“Absolutely. It seems to be what motivated Marianne to leave Ostra Hospital for Lowander.”
Andreas sighed, resigned. “We had an open-house party, Marianne and I. We’d bought a house in Hovas, and she was so … happy.” His voice turned raspy. “We’d never had many people over, and we certainly didn’t have large parties. But now we had the space, and Marianne thought that for once we should have a really huge party. We invited all our friends and co-workers. Of course, Marianne invited Niklas. So that’s how we … got to meet.”
“Had you had any homosexual relationships prior to meeting Niklas?”
Andreas started. “No.”
“When did Marianne find out about this one?”
“A half year later. Things happened the way they always do. Everyone knew about it but her. I tried to break off things with Niklas, but I just couldn’t.…” He fell silent and swallowed with a gulp.
“How’d she take it?”
“She took it hard.”
They sat silent until Andreas was ready to continue.
“She couldn’t stand seeing Niklas every day at work, so she decided to find another job.”
“When did you and she start meeting again?”
“Except for the first six months after the divorce, we saw each other all the time. When my father had his sixtieth birthday, we invited Marianne and her parents. Our parents had been friends all their lives, and they’re also next-door neighbors. Marianne and I started to talk, and she was so … good. She didn’t blame me a bit.”
“Was Niklas also invited to the birthday party?”
“No.”
“How did he react?”
Andreas sighed heavily. “He has a real temper. It’s always difficult.”
“Your relatives have never met him?”
“No.”
“And how did Marianne and Niklas get along?”
“Obviously not at all.” Andreas gave Irene a tired smile. “Marianne tried to have a neutral relationship, but Niklas … he just kept getting angry.”
“Why did you and Marianne decide to start meeting for lunch?”
Andreas closed his eyes and didn’t answer for a while. “We’ve known each other a long time. Our relationship is very special. There was a great deal between us that just couldn’t be erased.”
“Did you only meet at restaurants? You never went to Marianne’s place?”
Andreas understood right away what she was indicating. “We only met to talk and eat,” he answered sharply.
Irene tried to form her next question as tactfully as possible. “Did it ever seem that Marianne would have wanted to reenter a sexual relationship?”
“No.” His answer was short and swift, but he did not look at Irene when he answered. His fingers moved over his pant legs, and he started to pick at invisible lint.
Irene decided to widen the question. “She never talked about meeting another man?”
He looked up at her in surprise. Obviously the thought had never crossed his mind. “No. Never.”
“Do you remember the last time you saw her?”
He bent down and snapped open his slender briefcase, which was made of soft brown leather. “I checked my calendar this morning. Tuesday, January twenty-eighth.”
“And that was when you ate at the Fiskekrogen restaurant?”
“Yes.”
“It seems Niklas did not know that the two of you got together so often.”
“No. I told him that we got together now and then, just in case we were ever seen together. I was forced to let him know it did happen.”
“But not how often.”
“No.”
Here was something Irene could set her finger on, but she did not know how to pursue it. This was a classic triangle: ex-wife, new lover, and the man they both wanted. Was Andreas Svard ambivalent about his feelings? This was an angle of approach that Irene had to try. Neutrally, she asked, “How would you have reacted if Marianne had told you she’d met a new man? Maybe that she’d even stop meeting you for lunch?”
“I actually hoped she would. But at the same time … I needed her.”
“Why?”
“Together we had a sense of belonging and … peace.”
“You didn’t have that with Niklas?”
“We have something else. Passion.”
“Which you also can’t be without.”
It was not a question but a statement. Andreas just shook his head slightly in response.
“Do you have any idea what might have happened the night Marianne was killed?”
