‘Let’s just drop it!’
There was no sound from the girls’ rooms, and he hoped that they hadn’t heard. He realized that he must have been shouting. But he didn’t want to think about Cecilia or the child that he was going to be forced to support in secret.
‘I don’t want to talk about her,’ he said in a calmer tone of voice as he finally got his tie knotted.
Louise was staring at him, her mouth agape. She looked old. Tears had collected at the corners of her eyes. Her lower lip was quivering as she kept looking at him without saying a word.
‘I’m going to the office now. Get your arse out of bed and make sure the girls get to school on time. If you can manage that.’ He gave her a cold stare and then turned away. Maybe it would be worth the money to be rid of her after all. There were plenty of women who would be overjoyed to accept what he had to offer. She would be easy to replace.
‘Do you think he’s in any shape to talk to us?’ Martin asked Gosta. They were driving out to Kenneth’s house, even though neither of them really wanted to disturb him so soon after his wife’s death.
‘I don’t know,’ replied Gosta, his voice clearly indicating that he didn’t want to talk about it. Both of them fell silent.
After a while Gosta asked, ‘So how’s it going with the little girl?’
‘Great!’ Martin’s face lit up. After a long series of un successful relationships, he had almost given up hope of ever having a family of his own. But Pia had changed all that, and in the fall she’d given birth to a baby girl. His bachelor life now seemed like a distant and not particularly pleasant dream.
Silence again. Gosta drummed his fingers on the steering wheel but stopped after Martin gave him an annoyed look.
Both of them jumped when Martin’s mobile rang. When Martin answered, his expression grew more and more sombre.
‘Change of plan,’ said Martin as he ended the call.
‘What do you mean? What’s going on?’
‘That was Patrik. Something has happened over at Christian Thydell’s house. He phoned the station and was practically incoherent. But it’s something to do with his kids.’
‘Bloody hell.’ Gosta stomped on the gas pedal. ‘Hold on,’ he told Martin and drove even faster. He could feel his stomach starting to clench up. He’d always had a hard time dealing with cases involving children. And it hadn’t got any easier over the years. ‘Couldn’t Patrik tell you anything more?’
‘No,’ said Martin. ‘Christian was in such a state that Patrik couldn’t get a sensible word out of him. He and Paula are also on their way, but we’ll get there first. Patrik said not to wait for them.’ Martin was looking pale too. It was bad enough to arrive at a crime scene if they were prepared for what they were going to see. But right now they had no idea what was in store for them.
When they drove up in front of the Thydell house, they didn’t bother to park the car properly. Gosta brought it to a skidding halt, and then they both jumped out. No one answered when they rang the bell, so they opened the door.
‘Hello! Anyone home?’
They heard sounds coming from overhead, so they dashed upstairs.
‘Hello? It’s the police.’ They shouted again, but there was still no answer. From one of the rooms they heard sobs and the high-pitched screams of a child interspersed with the sound of splashing water.
Gosta took a deep breath and looked inside. Sanna was sitting on the bathroom floor, crying so hard that her whole body shook. In the bathtub sat the two little boys. The water was a faint pink colour, and Sanna was vigorously scrubbing their small bodies.
‘What happened? Are they hurt?’ Gosta stared at the children in the tub.
Sanna turned around, gave them a hasty look, and then turned back to her sons.
‘Are they hurt, Sanna? Should we ring for an ambulance?’ Gosta went over to her, squatted down, and put his hand on her shoulder. But Sanna didn’t reply. She just kept on scrubbing, without much result. The red wasn’t coming off. In fact, it just seemed to be spreading.
Gosta took a closer look at the boys and felt his pulse start to slow down. The red colour wasn’t blood.
‘Who did this?’
Sanna sobbed as she used the back of her hand to wipe away the drops of pink water that had sprayed her face.
‘They… they…’ Her teeth were chattering, and Gosta squeezed her shoulder to reassure her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Martin was standing in the doorway.
‘It’s paint,’ he told Martin. Then he looked again at Sanna. She took a deep breath and made another attempt to speak.
‘Nils was calling for me. He was sitting up in bed. This… this is how they looked. Somebody had written on the wall, and some of the paint must have spattered on to their beds. I thought it was blood.’
‘But you and Christian didn’t hear anything during the night? Or this morning?’
‘No, nothing.’
‘Where is the children’s room?’ asked Gosta.
Sanna pointed out into the hall.
‘I’ll go take a look,’ said Martin, turning around to leave.
‘I’ll come too.’ Gosta forced Sanna to meet his gaze before he stood up. ‘We’ll be right back. Okay?’
She nodded. Gosta stood up and went out into the hall. From the children’s room he could hear loud voices.
‘Christian, put that down.’
‘I have to get this off…’ Christian sounded just as confused as Sanna, and when Gosta entered the room he saw him holding a big bucket of water, ready to toss the contents at the wall.
‘We need to have a look at it first.’ Martin held up his hand towards Christian, who wore only his underwear. On his chest were red flecks of paint that he’d no doubt acquired when he helped Sanna carry the boys to the bathroom.
Now he made an attempt to throw the water at the wall, but Martin leaped forward and grabbed the bucket. Christian offered no resistance. He let go of the handle and just stood there, swaying slightly.
With Christian under control Gosta could concentrate on what he’d been trying to wash away. On the wall above the boys’ beds someone had written:
The red paint had dripped down from the letters, which looked as if they’d been written in blood. The same impression was made by the paint on the children’s bed. Gosta now understood the extent of the shock that Sanna must have had when she came into the room. And he also understood Christian’s reaction. His face was now expressionless as he stared at the words on the wall, but he was muttering to himself. Gosta moved a little closer to hear what he was saying.
‘I don’t deserve them. I don’t deserve them.’
Gosta cautiously took him by the arm. ‘Go and put on some clothes, Christian, and then we’ll talk.’ Gently but firmly Gosta ushered him out the door and over to the room that he had noticed belonged to Christian and Sanna.
Christian followed obediently, but then he just sat down on the bed, without making any attempt to get dressed. Gosta looked around until he found a bathrobe hanging from a hook behind the door. He handed the robe to Christian, who put it on, his movements listless and slow.
‘I need to have another look at Sanna and the children. Then we’ll go down to the kitchen and talk.’
Christian nodded. His eyes were vacant and glassy. Gosta left him sitting on the bed and went back to find Martin, who was still in the children’s room.
‘What the hell is going on here?’ Gosta asked.
Martin shook his head. ‘This is sick. Whoever did this must be insane. And what does it mean? “You don’t deserve them.” Deserve what? The children?’
‘That’s what we need to find out. Patrik and Paula should be here any minute. Could you go downstairs and let them in? And phone for a doctor too. I don’t think the kids are hurt, but the whole family has received a bad shock. It’s probably best to have a doctor look at them. I’m going to help Sanna get the paint washed off of the boys.
