Frans glanced up at him, calmly meeting his gaze. ‘I haven’t dragged your son into anything. He’s old enough to think for himself. He makes his own choices.’
‘Same way you did?’ spat Kjell and then stormed out, as if he could no longer stand to be in the same room with his father.
Frans didn’t move, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. As he listened to the front door slam, he thought about fathers and sons. And about the choices that were made for them, whether they liked it or not.
‘Did you have a nice weekend?’ Paula directed her question at both Martin and Gosta as she added coffee to the coffee-maker. Her colleagues merely nodded gloomily. Neither of them was particularly fond of Monday mornings. Besides, Martin hadn’t slept well all weekend.
Lately he’d started lying awake at night, worrying about the baby that was due to arrive in a couple of months. Not about whether the child was wanted. Because it was. Very much so. But it had only just dawned on him what a huge responsibility he was taking on. He would have to protect, raise, and take care of a tiny life, this little person, on all possible levels. It was this that kept him awake at night, staring up at the ceiling, while Pia’s big belly rose and fell in time with her gentle breathing. What he saw in the future was bullying and guns and drugs and sexual abuse and sorrows and misfortunes. When he thought about it, there was no end to all the terrible things that might befall their child. And for the first time he wondered whether he was really up to the task. But it was a bit late to be worrying about that now. In a couple of months the baby would be here.
‘What a cheerful pair you are.’ Paula sat down and rested her arms on the table as she regarded Gosta and Martin with a smile.
‘It should be against the law to be so cheerful on a Monday morning,’ said Gosta, getting up to refill his coffee cup. The water hadn’t finishing running through yet, so when he pulled out the pot, coffee dribbled on to the hotplate. Gosta didn’t even notice as he set the pot back in place after filling his cup.
‘Gosta,’ said Paula sternly as he turned his back on the mess he’d made and sat down at the table again. ‘You can’t just leave it like that. You need to wipe up the coffee you spilled.’
Gosta cast a glance over his shoulder at the puddle of coffee he’d left on the counter. ‘Oh, sorry,’ he said morosely, and went over to clean it up.
Martin laughed. ‘Good to see that somebody knows how to keep you in line.’
‘Oh, right, typical woman. They always have to be so damned finicky.’
Paula was about to say something scathing when they heard a sound out in the corridor. A sound that didn’t belong to the normal noises of the station. The merry prattling of a child.
Martin craned his neck, an eager look on his face. ‘That must be…’ he began. Before he could finish the sentence Patrik appeared in the doorway, holding Maja in his arms.
‘Hi, everybody!’
‘Hi!’ said Martin happily. ‘I see you just couldn’t stay away any longer.’
Patrik smiled. ‘Nope, the little lady and I thought we’d just stop by to see that you’re actually working. Right, sweetie?’ Maja gurgled happily, waving her arms about. Then she started squirming to show that she wanted to get down. Patrik complied, and she instantly set off on her wobbly legs, heading straight for Martin.
‘Hi, Maja. So you recognize your Uncle Martin, huh? Remember how we looked at the flowers together? You know what, Uncle Martin is going to go find a box of toys for you.’ He trotted off to get the box that they kept at the station for those occasions when someone came in with a child who needed to be kept busy for a while. Maja was overjoyed with the treasure chest that appeared in the kitchen a few minutes later.
‘Thanks, Martin,’ said Patrik. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. ‘So, how are things going?’ he asked, grimacing as he took his first sip. It had taken him only a week to forget how terrible station coffee was.
‘A bit slow,’ said Martin, ‘but we do have a number of leads.’ He told Patrik about the conversations they’d had with Frans Ringholm and Axel Frankel. Patrik nodded with interest.
‘And Gosta collected the fingerprints and shoe prints from one of the boys. We just need to get the same from the other boy and then we can eliminate their prints from the investigation.’
‘What did the boy say?’ asked Patrik. ‘Did they see anything of interest? Why did they decide to break into the house in the first place? Did you come up with any leads worth pursuing?’
‘No, I didn’t get anything useful out of the boy,’ said Gosta sullenly. He felt as if Patrik was questioning how he did his job, and he didn’t appreciate it. At the same time, Patrik’s questions had sparked something in his brain. Something was stirring there, something that he knew he ought to bring up to the surface. Or maybe it was just his imagination. Either way, it would only set Patrik off again if he mentioned it. ‘The only thing we’ve turned up that’s of real interest is the link to Sweden’s Friends. Erik Frankel doesn’t seem to have had any enemies, and we haven’t found any other possible motives.’
‘Have you checked his bank accounts? You might find something interesting there,’ said Patrik, thinking out loud.
Martin shook his head, annoyed that he hadn’t thought of doing that himself. ‘We’ll do that ASAP,’ he said. ‘And we also need to ask Axel whether Erik had a woman in his life. Or man, for that matter. Somebody he might have confided to. Another thing we need to do today is have a talk with the woman who cleaned house for Erik and Axel.’
‘Good,’ said Patrik, nodding. ‘Maybe then you’ll find out why she hasn’t cleaned their house all summer. Which would explain why Erik’s body wasn’t found earlier.’
Paula stood up. ‘I think I’m going to ring Axel right now and find out about any possible love interests Erik might have had.’ She left the room.
‘Do you have the letters that Frans sent to Erik?’ asked Patrik.
Martin got up. ‘I’ll go and get them, since I assume you’d like to have a look at them, right?’
Patrik shrugged, feigning nonchalance. ‘Well, since I’m here anyway…’
Martin laughed. ‘A leopard can’t change its spots. But aren’t you on paternity leave?’
‘Okay, okay, just wait until you’re in the same position. There are only a certain amount of hours you can spend in the sandbox. And Erica is working at home, so she’s only too happy if we stay out of her hair for a while.’
‘She knows your little expedition with Maja was heading for the police station?’ Martin’s eyes twinkled.
‘Well, maybe not, but I’m just dropping by for a moment. To see how you’re all holding up.’
‘Then I suppose I’d better fetch the letters, since you’re just dropping by.’
A few minutes later Martin returned with the five letters, which had now been inserted in plastic sleeves. Maja glanced up from her toy-box, stretching her hand out towards the papers Martin was holding, but he handed them to Patrik. ‘Sorry, sweetheart, these aren’t for you to play with.’ Maja responded with a slightly offended expression but then went back to exploring what was in the box on the floor.
Patrik placed the letters next to each other on the table. He read them in silence, deep furrows on his brow.
‘There’s nothing specific. He mostly just repeats the same things. Says that Erik should lie low because he can’t protect him any longer. And that there are forces within Sweden’s Friends that don’t think before they act.’ Patrik continued reading. ‘And here I get the impression that Erik has replied, because Frans writes:
Patrik looked up at Martin. ‘Did you ask Frans what he meant by this? What’s this “old monster” that he talks about?’
‘We haven’t had a chance to ask him yet. But we’ll be conducting several more interviews with him.’
Paula appeared in the doorway.
‘I’ve managed to discover a woman in Erik’s life. I did as Patrik suggested and phoned Axel. And he said that for the past four years Erik has had a “good friend”, as he put it, by the name of Viola Ellmander. And I’ve already
