school, which didn’t make things any better of course. He’d had the girl as a pupil of his and. . Well, it seems they had an affair as well.’
‘Really?’ said Moreno, watching the paedophile cloud welling up so quickly and strangely in her mind’s eye. But sixteen years of age? It must have been just inside the limits of the law, thought the police officer inside her. At that time.
But not the laws of morality, objected the woman and the human being Ewa Moreno. At any time. Teacher and pupil, that was outrageous, even if it wasn’t exactly anything new.
‘I think she was pregnant as well. Oh, it was a pretty juicy story, when you come to think about it. And this is where it happened.’
They followed a long bend and came up to the viaduct that ran over the railway line. A good twenty metres above it, Moreno reckoned. Unusually high, but no doubt there must be a reason for that. Mikael slowed down and pointed.
‘Down there, if I remember rightly. They say he pushed her over the edge from up here — the railing wasn’t as high then as it is now. I think they built this new railing as a direct consequence of what happened then, in fact.’
He pulled up close to the railing, and came to a halt.
‘Mind you, she could have jumped over the railing of her own accord,’ he added.
Moreno wound down the window and looked out. Tried to make a sober and factual analysis. The way it looked today it wouldn’t have been easy to heave a body over the railing and down on to the track below. Not, at least, if the body had been more or less alive and able to resist. The railing was now almost two metres high.
‘There’s no memorial plaque at least,’ said Mikael. ‘Thank God for that.’
He released the clutch pedal and they started moving forward again. Moreno wound up the window, and noticed that she had goose pimples on her forearms.
‘I don’t remember what happened next — the outcome of the trial and so on. It must have been held in the autumn, after we’d moved back to Groenhejm.’
‘But he was the one who did it, was he?’ Moreno wondered. ‘That teacher. Did he confess?’
Mikael drummed on the wheel with his fingers before answering.
‘Yes, it must have been him. What happened sent him round the bend. He was sitting beside the body when they found it, as I said. Didn’t try to run away. But they couldn’t get much sense out of him. But what does this business of the girl and her mother have to do with all this? Can you enlighten me? You’re not suggesting that there’s a link, are you?’
Moreno didn’t answer immediately. She tried to run through everything inside her head one more time first, but it was difficult to draw any conclusion different from the one she’d drawn already.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘But in a way I think it probably is. Mikaela Lijphart was going to visit her father, who for some reason she hadn’t seen since she was two. Something had happened then, that’s how she put it:
‘I’ve no idea,’ said Mikael. ‘How the hell could I know? But I do recall reading something about the court case later on. . While it was taking place. Apparently it wasn’t possible to cross-examine him. Either he would break down, sobbing, or he’d just sit there as silent as the grave. I probably remember that because it was the exact phrase the reporter used: “as silent as the grave”.’
‘So he must have been a psychiatric case, irrespective of the verdict — is that what you’re saying?’
‘Presumably. Sidonis, did you say?’
Moreno nodded. ‘Do you know it?’
‘Only by name,’ said Mikael. ‘All children know the name of the nearest loony bin, don’t they?’
‘I’m sure they do,’ said Moreno. ‘So that explains that, then. What an uplifting story. .’
They drove in silence for a couple of minutes.
‘Ergo,’ said Mikael eventually. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong. The girl comes here to visit her father, the murderer, whom she hasn’t seen since she was two years old. She meets him, talks to him for a few hours, then disappears. Is that what you’ve been brooding over all day?’
‘Not quite,’ said Moreno. ‘It was you who told me her father could call himself a murderer — only a few minutes ago. How’s your short-term memory?’
Mikael didn’t respond. Merely changed the rhythm of his drumming, and sat there in silence again.
‘What are we going to do?’ he asked just as a sign saying
Moreno thought for a few seconds. Then:
‘Turn back,’ she said.
‘Eh?’
‘Turn back. We must go and speak to Vrommel.’
‘Now?’ said Mikael. ‘It’s nearly half past nine. Can’t we leave it until tomorrow? I suspect he hasn’t read
Moreno bit her lower lip and pondered for a moment.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘Tomorrow it is.’
16
Vrommel was doing heel-raising exercises.
‘Achilles tendons and calves,’ he explained. ‘You’ve got to keep your body in trim as well. On a day like this I thought you’d be lying on a towel on the beach.’
‘This afternoon,’ said Moreno. ‘I just thought I’d ask if the Lijphart girl had turned up.’
‘Unfortunately.’
‘Unfortunately not?’
‘Unfortunately not.’
‘Could we sit down for a bit?’ suggested Moreno. ‘I actually met the girl on the train, and so perhaps-’
‘A routine matter,’ interrupted Vrommel. ‘Nothing you need worry about. If she doesn’t get in touch today we’ll send out a Wanted notice tomorrow.’
He continued stubbornly raising himself up and down on his toes. After every raise he emitted a brief guttural grunt, and the colour of his face confirmed that he wasn’t cheating, but putting his heart and soul into it.
He’s not compos mentis, Moreno thought, leaning on the edge of the desk. Another one of ’em. Ah well. .
‘What do you think has happened?’ she asked.
Vrommel sank down on his heels, and stayed there. Took two deep breaths and started head-turnings. From right to left. Left to right. Slowly and methodically.
‘Nothing,’ he said.
‘Nothing?’ said Moreno. ‘But the girl’s disappeared.’
‘Girls do disappear,’ said Vrommel. ‘Always have done. They come back a little redder in the cheek.’
What the hell. .? Moreno thought, but managed to twist her lips into something she hoped might be interpreted as a smile. Albeit a stiff one. And a brief one.
‘So you don’t think it has anything to do with that other business from a few years ago?’
‘Oh, you know about that, do you?’
‘A bit. It was pretty sensational, I gather. .’
Vrommel said nothing.
‘I’d have thought there might be some sort of link. . Somehow or other.’
‘I don’t think so.’
