The Stone Cutter

punching him over and over. Arne took the blows without seeming to understand what was happening. Finally his legs gave out and he fell to his knees. Niclas was breathing hard. He looked at his father on his knees before him, with blood running out of his nose. Then he turned and ran.

After that day she was not allowed to mention Niclas's name again. He was seventeen years old.

Asta climbed down carefully from the chair with the curtains in her arms. Lately she'd had so many disquieting thoughts, and it was probably no accident that the memories of that day were intruding just now. The girl's death had stirred up so many feelings, so much that she'd tried to forget over the years. A realization of how much she'd lost because of Arne's stubbornness had come sneaking up on her, awakening emotions that would only make life more difficult for her. But as soon as she went to visit her son at the clinic she'd begun to question much of what she'd taken for granted over the years. Maybe Arne didn't know everything after all. Maybe Arne wasn't the one who could decide how everything should be, even for her. Maybe she could start making her own decisions about her life. The thoughts made her nervous, and she pushed them aside until later. Right now she had curtains to wash.

Patrik knocked on the door with an authoritative rap. He was already having to work to keep his expression neutral. Inside of him he felt repugnance welling up and giving him a foul taste in his mouth. This was the lowest of the low, the most loathsome type of person he could imagine. The only consolation, and this was not something Patrik would ever say out loud, was that once this type of person ended up behind lock and key, he wouldn't have it easy in prison. Paedophiles were at the bottom of the pecking order and were treated accordingly. And rightfully so.

He heard footsteps approaching and took a step back. Martin stirred tensely beside him, and standing behind them were several colleagues from Uddevalla, including some who could provide invaluable expertise in these cases – computer expertise.

The door opened and Kaj's thin form appeared. As always he was formally dressed, and Patrik wondered if he even owned any casual clothes. For his part he always slipped on a pair of worn- out jogging trousers and a cosy sweatshirt the minute he got home.

'What is it this time?' Kaj stuck his head out of the door and frowned when he saw two police cars parked in his driveway. 'Is it really necessary for you to advertise your presence like this? The old lady next door is probably rubbing her hands together with glee. If you have something to ask me you could just pick up the phone, or send over one person instead of a whole troop!'

Patrik studied him for a moment, wondering whether Kaj really felt so secure that uniformed policemen showing up at his door didn't arouse any thoughts that he'd been found out. Or maybe he was simply a good actor. Well, they would soon see.

'We have a warrant to search the premises. And we request that you accompany us to the station for questioning.' Patrik's voice was extremely formal and revealed none of the emotions he was feeling.

'A warrant to search my house? What the hell? Is it that damned woman who thought this up? I swear I'm going to…' Kaj stepped outside onto the porch and seemed to consider heading over to the Florins' house. Patrik held up his hand, and Martin blocked his way.

'This has nothing to do with Lilian Florin. We have information that implicates you in child pornography.'

Kaj stiffened. Now Patrik realized that he hadn't been acting earlier. He really hadn't considered that possibility. Stammering, he tried to regain his composure.

'Wha… what in… what are you saying, man?' But his protest sounded powerless, and the shock had made his shoulders slump.

'As I said, we have a warrant to search the premises, and if you'd be so kind as to come with us in one of the cars, we intend to continue this conversation in peace and quiet at the station.'

The bitter taste of gall in his mouth forced Patrik to keep swallowing. He wanted to throw himself at Kaj and shake him, ask him how, why, what it was that enticed him about children, young boys, that he couldn't get in an adult relationship. But there would be plenty of time for those questions. The most important thing right now was to secure the evidence.

Kaj seemed to be utterly paralysed, and without replying or taking along a jacket, he followed them down the stairs and compliantly got into the back seat of one of the police cars.

Patrik turned to his colleagues from Uddevalla. 'We'll take him in and begin the questioning. You do what you have to do here, and ring if you find anything we can use. I know I don't have to point this out, but I'll say it anyway: take all the computers and don't forget that the warrant includes the cabin on the property. I know there's at least one computer in there.'

His colleagues nodded and entered the house with determined expressions.

With a sense of elation Lilian leisurely walked past the police cars as she made her way home. It was as if her dreams had been answered. An entire phalanx of officers outside the neighbours' house, and on top of that, Kaj wearing a downhearted expression had been forced to get in the back of one of the police cars. A feeling of joy surged through her. After all these years of trouble with him and his family, his behaviour had finally caught up with him. God knows that she herself had always behaved correctly. Could she help it that she wanted everything to be done with decorum? Could she help it that he had done things that deviated from the spirit of neighbourliness, so that she was then forced to answer in kind? And people had the nerve to claim that she was belligerent. Oh yes, she'd heard the gossip going around town. But she denied any responsibility for the trouble between them. If Kaj hadn't kept it up by bothering them and doing stupid things, she wouldn't have made a fuss. In normal circumstances no one was as gentle and easy-going as she was. And she felt absolutely no guilt in telling the police about that peculiar son of theirs. Everybody knew that sooner or later, people like that who had something wrong in the head would present problems. Even though she may have exaggerated Morgan's Peeping Tom behaviour in her statement to the police, she'd only done it to prevent further problems. People like that could come up with anything if they were allowed to run riot, and it was common knowledge that they had an overactive sex drive.

But now everybody would get to see how things really stood.

It wasn't outside her house that the police were swarming. She paused outside her front door to watch the show with her arms crossed and a malevolent smile on her lips.

When the police car with Kaj drove off, she reluctantly went inside. She pondered for a moment whether to go over there as a concerned citizen and ask what was going on. But the police disappeared inside Kaj's house before she even finished that thought, and she didn't want to seem like such a busybody that she would go over and knock on the door.

As she took off her shoes and hung up her jacket she wondered whether Monica knew what was going on. Maybe she ought to ring her at the library and tell her, like a good neighbour, of course. But Stig's voice from upstairs interrupted her before she made up her mind.

'Lilian, is that you?'

She went upstairs. He sounded feeble today. 'Yes, darling, it's me.'

'Where have you been?'

He looked up at her pitifully as she entered his bedroom. What a weak little soul he was now. A feeling of tenderness rose up inside her when she realized how dependent he was on her care. It warmed her heart to feel so needed. It was like when Charlotte was a child. What a feeling of power that had been to be responsible for such a helpless little life. Actually she had liked that period the best. Gradually, as Charlotte grew up, she had slipped more and more out of her mother's hands. If Lilian had been able to do so, she would have frozen time and stopped her from growing up altogether. But the harder she tried to hold on to her daughter, the more she had pulled away. Instead, Charlotte's father had quite undeservedly received all the love and respect that Lilian thought she deserved. She was Charlotte's mother, after all. A father should have lower status than a mother. She was the one who'd given birth to her, and during the first years she was the one who'd satisfied all her daughter's needs. Then Lennart had taken over, reaping the fruits of all her labours. He had turned Charlotte into a daddy's girl. After Charlotte moved out and it was just the two of them, he'd started talking about divorce, as if Charlotte were the only one who counted in all those years.