‘Bengt Andersson,’ Zeke says.
‘The man in the tree,’ Karl Murvall says quietly. ‘Awful.’
‘Did you know him?’
‘I’ve known who he was ever since my childhood in Ljungsbro. The whole family knew of him.’
‘But no more than that?’
‘No.’
‘You didn’t know he was questioned during the investigation into the rape of your sister?’
Without his tone changing, Karl Murvall replies, ‘Well, that’s only natural. He was one of her clients, and she cared about all of them. She got him to take care of his personal hygiene.’
‘Are you and your sister close?’
‘It’s very hard to be close to her.’
‘But before?’
Karl Murvall looks away.
‘Do you visit her?’
Silence again.
‘You and your brothers seem to have a strained relationship,’ Zeke says.
‘My half-brothers,’ Karl Murvall says. ‘We don’t have any contact at all. That’s correct.’
‘Why is that?’ Malin asks.
‘I got an education. I’ve got a good job and I pay my taxes. That’s the sort of thing that doesn’t sit well with my half-brothers. I presume they’re angry about it. They probably think I imagine I’m better than them.’
‘And your mum as well?’ Zeke goes on.
‘Maybe my mother most of all.’
‘You’re half-brothers. On your birth certificate it says that your father’s identity is unknown.’
‘I’m Rakel Murvall’s first child. My father was a sailor who disappeared in a shipwreck when she was pregnant. That’s all I know. Then she met him, their father, Blackie.’
‘What was he like?’
‘To begin with, a drunk. Then a crippled drunk. Then a dead drunk.’
‘But he took you on?’
‘I don’t understand what my childhood has to do with any of this, Detective Inspector Fors, I really don’t.’
And Malin can see the change in Karl Murvall’s eyes, how matter-of-factness turns to sadness, and then to anger.
‘Maybe you two ought to be therapists instead. Those people out on the plain live their lives, I live mine, and that’s just the way it is, all right?’
Zeke leans forward. ‘Just for the sake of formality: what were you doing on the night between Wednesday and Thursday last week?’
‘I was at work. I had a big update of the system to install and it had to be done at night. The security guard at Collins can confirm that. But is that really necessary?’
‘We don’t know yet, but no, probably not.’
‘Were you working alone?’
‘Yes, I always do when it’s a difficult job. To be honest, no one else understands what needs doing, and they just get in the way. But the guard can confirm that I was there all night.’
‘What do you know about your brothers’ affairs?’
‘Nothing. And if I knew anything I wouldn’t tell you. They are my brothers, in spite of everything. And if you don’t look after each other within your own family, when else would you?’
As they are pulling on their jackets and getting ready to leave the flat, Malin turns to face Karl Murvall.
‘I noticed the roof-box on the car. Do you ski?’
‘I have it for carrying things,’ Karl Murvall says, before going on: ‘I don’t ski. Sport has never been my thing.’
‘Well, thanks for the coffee,’ Malin says.
‘Thanks,’ Zeke says.
‘But you didn’t touch yours,’ Karl Murvall says.
‘Maybe, but thanks anyway,’ Zeke says.
Malin and Zeke are standing side by side next to Karl Murvall’s estate. The back of the car is covered by blankets, and on top of the blankets is a large toolbox.
‘He can’t have had it easy, growing up out there,’ Malin says.
