The Drowning

And no one ever took any notice of the little black and blue marks or the tiny cuts on her body. She was constantly getting bumps and bruises, toppling over, running into things, and cutting herself. It was as if she moved about with a couple of seconds’ time lag in her awareness, and she often didn’t react until she was already knocking into something. But she never cried, even then.

There were no signs on the outside, nothing that was visible. Even he had to admit that she looked like an angel. If Mother took Alice out in her pushchair – and she was really too big for it by now, but she was still allowed to ride in it because she took so long to walk anywhere on her own – strangers would always comment on the way Alice looked.

‘What a lovely child,’ they would chirp. Leaning over her, they would look at Alice with hungry eyes, as if they wanted to inhale all her sweetness. And he used to glance up at Mother, noticing how for a second she would beam with pride as she nodded.

Then everything would be destroyed in an instant. Alice would reach out towards her admirers with drool hanging from her lips. Then they would abruptly step back, casting first a shocked and then a sympathetic glance at Mother, while her proud expression vanished.

They never looked at him at all. He was just somebody walking behind Mother and Alice, if he was even allowed to go along. A fat, shapeless mass, and no one gave him a thought. But he didn’t care. It was as if the anger that had burned inside his chest had died the moment the water had covered Alice’s face. He never noticed the smell in his nostrils any more. That sweet smell had disappeared, as if it had never existed. That too the water had washed away. Although the memory was still there. Not like a memory of something real, but more like a feeling of something displaced. He was someone else now. Someone who knew that Mother no longer loved him.

They got started early. Patrik had refused to listen to any protests about holding the meeting at seven o’clock sharp.

‘I have a very ambiguous picture of who’s behind all of this,’ he said after having summarized the case. ‘We seem to be dealing with an individual who is seriously mentally unbalanced, but at the same time extremely cautious and well organized. And that’s a dangerous combination.’

‘We don’t know for sure that the same person who killed Magnus is also responsible for the letters and the break-in at Kenneth’s house,’ said Martin.

‘No, but there’s nothing to contradict that theory either. I suggest that for the present we assume there’s a connection.’ Patrik rubbed his face with his hand. He’d lain in bed tossing and turning most of the night, and he felt more tired than ever. ‘I’ll phone Pedersen after we’re done here and find out if we can get a definitive answer about the cause of death for Magnus.’

‘It’s probably going to take a few more days to get Pedersen’s report,’ said Paula.

‘I know, but it doesn’t hurt to lean on him a bit.’ Patrik pointed at the corkboard on the wall. ‘We’ve wasted far too much time already. It’s been three months since Magnus disappeared, but only in the past few days did we find out about the threats to other individuals.’

Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the photographs that were pinned up next to each other.

‘We have four friends: Magnus Kjellner, Christian Thydell, Kenneth Bengtsson, and Erik Lind. One is dead. The other three have received threatening letters from someone who we believe to be a woman. Unfortunately we don’t know whether Magnus received similar letters. At any rate his wife, Cia, isn’t aware of any. So it’s unlikely we’ll ever know for sure.’

‘But why these four?’ Paula squinted her eyes at the photos.

‘If we knew that, we’d probably know who’s behind everything,’ said Patrik. ‘Annika, have you found out anything interesting about their backgrounds?’

‘Not really. At least not yet. No surprises when it comes to Kenneth Bengtsson. There’s a lot about Erik Lind, but nothing that seems relevant for us. Mostly suspicions regarding shady financial dealings and that sort of thing.’

‘I’ll bet that Erik is involved in some way,’ said Mellberg. ‘He’s a slippery devil. I’ve heard plenty of rumours about his business enterprises. He’s also a real ladies’ man. So obviously we ought to take a closer look at him.’ He tapped his finger against the side of his nose.

‘But why was Magnus murdered?’ asked Patrik, receiving an annoyed look in reply.

‘I haven’t found much on Christian so far,’ Annika went on calmly. ‘But I’ll keep at it, and of course I’ll let you know if I find out anything that might be useful.’

‘Don’t forget that he was the first to receive a letter.’ Paula was still staring at the corkboard. ‘They started arriving a year and a half ago. Christian has also received more letters than his friends. At the same time, it seems odd that the others would be dragged into the situation if only one person was the target. I have a strong feeling that there’s something linking all four of them together.’

‘I agree. And it also seems significant that it was Christian who first drew the attention of whoever this person is.’ Patrik wiped his forehead. It was hot and stuffy in the room, and he’d begun to sweat. He turned to Annika. ‘Focus on Christian for now.’

‘I still think we need to concentrate on Erik,’ said Mellberg. He glared at Gosta. ‘What do you say, Flygare? You and I are the ones with the most experience. Don’t you think Erik Lind should be given some extra attention?’

Gosta squirmed. He’d made it through his whole career as a police officer by adopting the policy of always taking the path of least resistance. But after wrestling with himself for a few seconds, he finally shook his head.

‘Well, even though I see your point, I’m afraid I’ll have to agree with Hedstrom that Christian Thydell seems the most interesting at the moment.’

‘All right, if you want to waste more time, then go ahead,’ said Mellberg, getting up with a hurt expression on his face. ‘I have better things to do than to sit here casting pearls before swine.’ And he left the room.

What Mellberg apparently regarded as ‘better things to do’ involved taking a lengthy nap. But Patrik had no intention of stopping him. The more Mellberg kept out of the investigation, the better.

‘Okay, so you’ll focus on Christian,’ Patrik reiterated, nodding at Annika. ‘When do you think you’ll have something for me?’

‘By tomorrow I should have a much clearer picture of his background.’

‘That’s great. Martin and Gosta, I’d like you to go and see Kenneth at his home. Try to find out more details about what happened yesterday, and about the letters. Eventually we should also have another talk with Erik Lind. For my part, I’m going to phone Pedersen as soon as it’s eight o’clock.’ Patrik cast a glance at his watch. Only another half-hour. ‘Then I think Paula and I should drive over to see Cia.’

Paula nodded. ‘Just let me know when you’re ready, and we’ll head over there.’

‘Good. So now everyone knows what they should be doing.’

Martin raised his hand.

‘Yes?’

‘Shouldn’t we provide some sort of police protection for Christian and the others?’

‘I’ve thought of that, of course. But we just don’t have the resources, and we don’t have much to go on yet. So we’ll wait on that. Anything else?’

No one spoke.

‘Okay, then let’s get busy.’ Patrik wiped the sweat from his brow again. Next time, in spite of the winter weather, they would really need to open one of the windows to let in some air.

After the others had left, Patrik remained seated at the table for a while, studying what was posted on the corkboard. Four men. Four friends. One of them dead.

What was it that linked all of them together?

Sanna felt like she was always tiptoeing around him. Their marriage had never been good, not even in the beginning. It took courage to admit that, but she could no longer ignore the truth. Christian had never let her into his life.

He’d always said what was expected of him, done the things he was supposed to do, courted her and given her compliments. But she had never really believed him, although in the past she refused to admit as much to herself. Because he was more than she had ever allowed herself to dream of. His profession might give the