‘First of all, do you usually introduce yourself as “your husband” when you call?’
‘No, I was trying to be funny.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Nor do I. But do you know what I think it sounds like? I think it sounds like you’re really pissed off, but scared to show it. I think it sounds like a pathetic reminder.
Mike stared at him. Karlsson didn’t bat an eyelid. As if he had just been declared the stupidest man in the universe and was proud of it.
Gerda flapped his hands around nervously.
‘I wonder why you asked if she was out with people from work when you knew that’s who she was out with. As if you thought she might be somewhere else.’
Just as bloody stupid.
‘You sound nervous,’ Karlsson continued. ‘Are you?’
Mike looked at them.
‘Is that the reason why you asked me to come?’
Karlsson pressed his fingers together under his chin. He reminded Mike of that executive guy on the old racist Mastermind box. The strategist, the thinker.
Karlsson leaned back and exchanged glances with Gerda. As if this was the piece of the puzzle they had expected to find. A soap opera of jealousy and passion that had gone off the rails.
Mike snorted with laughter. A cynical confirmation more than anything else.
‘You’ll have to excuse me,’ he said. ‘That’s all you’ve come up with? That’s the reason you asked me to come?’
Still no answer.
‘Is this some kind of questioning technique, just sitting there in silence? Do you actually suspect me, is that what it is? You think I’ve kidnapped my wife, or killed her and dumped the body? Is that it?’
‘We just wondered if your wife had a lover.’
Gerda tried to make it sound trivial. Like a fact, like the colour of a house or the make of a car.
‘No, my wife does not have a lover. She had an affair with a pretty awful bloke who, for obvious reasons, I don’t have much time for. Let me put it this way, if Bill Akerman disappears without a trace one day, I suggest you look me up and find out where I’ve been keeping myself. It was over a year ago and, no, I have no reason to believe that it’s still going on. And in any case, Nour phoned him on Saturday, just to make sure. And no, Ylva wasn’t with him.’
Mike stood up.
‘If you’ll excuse me,’ he said, ‘I think I’ll go over the road to the newspaper and ask them to publish a photograph of my wife. Someone must have seen her. She can’t just have vanished in a puff of smoke.’
26
‘What was carried out with tremendous zeal? You’re holding back information.’
Jorgen Petersson sounded annoyed. Calle Collin sighed.
‘You don’t want to know,’ he said.
‘Of course I want to know,’ Jorgen persisted.
‘Believe me,’ Calle said, ‘you don’t.’
‘You’re like one of those phoney conscientious newsreaders who warn viewers about disturbing pictures knowing that’s the best way to make people watch. You’re just trying to pique my interest, like a circus ringmaster introducing a new act.’
‘I’ve actually had problems sleeping.’
‘Well, I’ve never had that problem. I sleep just like all the beautiful people in the adverts.’
Calle gave another deep sigh.
‘Well, don’t complain later then,’ he said.
‘Why would I complain?’
‘I’m just saying.’
‘I don’t intend to complain.’
‘Okay,’ Calle said. ‘Someone smashed Anders’ head in with a hammer, pounded the hammer into his brain as if it were a butter churn, and then left the shaft standing up out of his skull like a dead flower in a pot.’
‘Oh, fucking hell.’
‘I told you, you didn’t want to know.’
‘Oh Jesus fucking Christ.’
‘I don’t want to hear you complaining.’
‘And it was someone’s better half who did it?’
‘I think we can conclude that it was done by someone who wasn’t very fond of our old classmate.’
‘And the police think it was a man who committed the murder, but that it was a woman who lured him there?’
‘More or less.’
‘But they’ve got no idea who?’
‘Not the faintest.’
Jorgen nodded silently to himself.
‘So he was notorious …’
Calle started.
‘What did you just say?’
‘Anders Egerbladh,’ Jorgen said. ‘He must have been notorious.’
Calle looked at his friend long and hard.
‘Have you been playing around?’ he asked, finally.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘You said “notorious” – that’s a dead giveaway, the codeword of someone who’s been unfaithful. In order to play down their own excesses, they’ll demonise others who are that little bit worse. It’s like alcoholics who say they need a lager. Anyone who says “a lager” instead of “a drink” is by definition a serious alcoholic.’
Now it was Jorgen’s turn to look at his friend long and hard.
‘Now you’ve lost me.’
‘Jesus, it’s true,’ Calle said.
‘No, it’s not,’ Jorgen retorted. ‘And no, I haven’t been having a bit on the side.’
‘I hope not,’ Calle said. ‘Because I like your wife more than I like you.’
‘And if I should ever think about it, I wouldn’t burden you with the knowledge.’
‘I thank you for that.’
‘Codeword,’ Jorgen snorted. ‘That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard.’
27
