If my child does not live, it is his.…
It was a horrible poem, heavy with anger and a reproach to the callous, coldhearted father of her child. Probably well deserved.
The last poem, which headed the letter Tekla wrote just before her suicide, at first appeared to be totally innocuous, but Irene shivered as she realized how the few lines connected to Tekla’s death:
I intend to undertake a long journey
It will be some time before we meet again
This is not a hasty escape, this plan has been in my mind for a long time
Though I could not speak of it till now
She must have been declaring her intention to commit suicide. And she had taken a trip, if only to Goteborg.
Kurt Hook stood up and stretched his long body. “How about we have a Friday-night drink?” he asked.
Irene almost said yes, but then Hannu and Tommy appeared at the door. They threw questioning looks at Irene and Kurt.
“Sorry, we’re not done working yet,” Irene told Kurt in a light tone. “Thanks to you, we’ve solved the mystery of the letters.”
Kurt nodded, wished them all a good weekend, and disappeared down the hallway.
Tommy lifted an ironic eyebrow and did an imitation of Hook. “ ‘How about we have a Friday-night drink?’ Since when has he ever offered someone a drink? Watch out for the fourth estate, Irene. The mass media can do a number on a tiny little police officer.”
To her annoyance, Irene could feel that she was blushing. It was crazy how Tommy suddenly had so much to say about the men around her.
“He was just helping me figure out if there was a secret code in these letters. How are things with Siv Persson?”
“We drove her to the airport and made sure she was on the evening flight to London. Her son lives there. I called him, too, and we all agreed that was the best plan. She was extremely relieved. These past twenty-four hours have been rough on her.”
Tommy told Irene about Siv Persson’s late-night encounter with the blonde. She couldn’t say if the person was a woman or a man dressed as one. Both Tommy and Hannu were convinced her story was true.
“We have to believe that this murderer is likely to kill again. Siv Persson is the last living witness,” Tommy concluded.
Irene turned to the letters and showed them how the poems that began them contained hidden messages.
Hannu nodded and said, “It’s as if she’s left word for us from the other side of the grave.”
IRENE’S HOUSE WAS filled with the tempting scent of good food. Only Sammie noticed as Irene came through the door, but he exhibited his usual joy. She could hear cheerful chatter and the clatter of utensils in the kitchen. Both girls were home and helping their father make dinner. It sounded very pleasant. Irene’s mouth was already watering as she followed the wonderful aromas into the kitchen. Filled with expectation, she heard her husband say happily, “Hello, sweetheart. Dinner’s almost ready. Go ahead, sit down, pour yourself some beer.”
Krister bent to take a bubbling casserole from the oven.
“We worked together on dinner tonight. And guess what. Papa’s going to go on a diet.” Jenny said, beaming.
“So what’s the menu you’ve created?”
“Endive gratin covered in cheddar cheese, served with boiled sugar peas and a tomato salad,” her daughter said with pride.
“And?”
“And what?”
“And what’s for dinner?”
Her whole family looked at her in surprise and answered in chorus:
“This is the dinner!”
Sadly, Irene anticipated lean times at the Huss household.
SATURDAY FLEW BY in a blur of long-overdue tasks. Clipping Sammie’s coat was chore number one, certainly high time by now, since he was beyond shaggy. He hated every minute of it, but once it was over, he pranced about and showed off.
Afterward the entire family pitched in with the cleaning, laundry, ironing, and weekly shopping.
To Irene’s great relief, Saturday’s dinner included meat: a wonderfully aromatic pork-chop stew with the last frozen chanterelles and lingonberries from their fall harvest. Krister had purchased a red Chianti slightly flavored with black currant. Jenny happily microwaved the leftovers from yesterday’s vegetarian dinner, while Katarina opted for the pork. Both girls had soda.
Krister lifted his glass, cleared his throat, and said, “Skoal, my girls. To my new life!”
Irene’s expression probably revealed her questions about his resolve, but she lifted her glass anyway.
“Jenny and I talked through things yesterday afternoon,” Krister continued. “Vegetarian food is trendy, and I’ve had a number of customers asking for more vegetarian dishes. And I need to lose at least forty pounds.” He grabbed his big belly and hoisted it up. He had really gained weight the past few years. He turned to Irene and asked, “Sweetie, did you notice any difference in flavor in this dish?”
“No, it’s really good.”
Krister appeared content. “Great. Instead of heavy cream, I used half-and-half. It’s the first time I’ve tried it. My old kitchen chef used to say, ‘Real ingredients should never be compromised. Real butter and real cream, boys.’ But the real deal has its disadvantages.” Again he grabbed his belly and jiggled it.
“Perhaps you should also take up jogging,” Irene said thoughtfully.
“Are you crazy? Do you want me to have a heart attack? Jogging is not my style. But I’ve promised myself that I would take Sammie on a one-mile walk every day, in all weather. And every Sunday I’m going to do laps at the Frolunda community pool.”
Irene could hardly believe her ears. They never had much in common when it came to exercise. Irene enjoyed jujitsu and jogging on her own. Not to mention handball and weight lifting, though she’d quit handball after the twins were born. Something had to give. At least weight training was part of her job and she was paid for those hours.
“Jenny and I decided that we’d be eating vegetarian three times a week and the other days would be fish or meat. What do you say?”
“Can you really lose weight that way?”
“Yes indeed. If you don’t add too much cream and are easy on the oils. Jenny doesn’t eat dishes with cream, so her food will have even fewer calories.”
“But I do have to keep eating sunflower seeds and nuts to get the energy I need,” Jenny added.
Katarina shrugged. “Fine by me.”
