She had the urge to place her hand on one of them. The gray sky was shutting out most of the daylight, and the room was dark. She lay down on top of the bed and pulled the woolen rug that was folded up at the bottom of the bed over her. She was tired and frozen and her head was pounding. Restlessly she fumbled for her cell phone and checked her messages. The first was from Mans Wenngren.
“I didn’t need a horse’s head,” he drawled. “But I did promise that journalist first pop at the story if she dropped the complaint.”
“What story?” snapped Rebecka.
She waited for him to say something else, but the message was over, and an expressionless voice in her ear was telling her the time of the next message.
What were you expecting? she sneered at herself. That he was going to whisper sweet nothings and make small talk?
The next message was from Sanna.
“Hi,” said Sanna tersely. “I’ve just heard from Anna-Maria that the girls are going to be interviewed. And they’re dragging somebody from the Child Psych team in. I don’t want it to happen, and I’m surprised you haven’t spoken to me about it. Unfortunately things don’t seem to be working out with you and me, so I’ve decided that Mum and Dad can look after the girls for the time being.”
Rebecka switched off the phone without listening to her other messages. There was a knock on the door, and Sivving popped his head round. He looked at her lying there, and stared at the telephone in her hand.
“I think we need to swap that for a proper teddy bear,” he said. “It’ll do you good to come out to Jiekajarvi. There’s no reception there, so you might as well leave it at home. I was just going to say the food will be ready in an hour, and I’ll come and wake you. Now get some sleep.”
Rebecka looked at him.
“Don’t go,” she said. “Talk to me about my grandmother.”
Sivving went over to the wardrobe, took out another woolen blanket and spread it over Rebecka. Then he took the telephone off her and placed it on the bedside table.
“People round here never used to think that Albert, your grandfather, would get married,” he said. “He always used to sit in the corner with his cap in his hand when he went visiting, never said a word. He was the only one of the brothers that stayed on the farm with his father. And his father, your grandfather’s father, Emil, he was a real hard man. We lads were terrified of him. Hell, one time when he caught us playing poker in the sandpit, I thought he was going to pull my ear clean off my head. He was a really strict Laestadian. But anyway, Albert went off to a funeral in Junosuando, and when he came back there was something different about him. He still didn’t say anything, just like before. But it was as if he was sitting there smiling to himself, although his mouth never moved, if you see what I mean. He’d met your grandmother. And that summer he went off several times to visit relatives in Kuoksu. Emil was furious when Albert disappeared right in the middle of the harvest. In the end she came to visit. And you know what Theresia was like. When it came to work, there was nobody to beat her. Anyway, I don’t know how it came about, but suddenly she and Emil were out there cutting one half each of the old sheep pasture, you know, the meadow between the potato field and the river. It was like a competition. I remember it as if it were yesterday. It was quite late in the summer, the blackflies had arrived and it was just before supper, so they were biting well. We lads stood there watching. And Isak, Emil’s brother, he was there too. You never got to meet him. Pity. They worked in silence, Emil and Theresia, each with their own scythe. The rest of us kept quiet too. All you could hear were the insects and the evening cry of the swallows.”
“Did she win?” asked Rebecka.
“No, but in a way, neither did Emil. He finished first, but your grandmother wasn’t far behind. And Isak ran his hand over the stubble on his chin and said, ‘Well, Emil, we’d better put the ram out on your half.’ Emil had rushed ahead with his scythe like a fury, but he hadn’t made a very good job of it. But your grandmother’s half looked as if she’d crawled over the meadow on her knees with a pair of nail scissors. So, now you know how she won the respect of your grandfather’s father.”
“Tell me some more,” begged Rebecka.
“Another time.” Sivving smiled. “Now you need to sleep for a while.”
He closed the door behind him.
How am I supposed to sleep? thought Rebecka.
She had the distinct impression that Anna-Maria Mella had lied to her. Or maybe not lied, but kept something back. And why was Sanna lashing out now that the girls were going to be interviewed? Was it for the same reason as Rebecka, that she had no confidence in von Post? Or was it because a child psychologist was going to be involved? Why had somebody sent a card to Viktor saying that what they’d done wasn’t wrong in the eyes of God? Why had the same person threatened Rebecka? Or maybe it wasn’t a threat, maybe it was a warning? She tried to remember exactly what it had said on the note.
God, I can’t possibly sleep, she thought, gazing up at the ceiling.
But the next minute she had fallen into a deep sleep.
She was woken by a thought, opened her eyes to the darkness be-neath the ceiling and lay completely still so as not to frighten it away.
It was something Anna-Maria Mella had said. 'We have only circumstantial evidence.'
'If you only have circumstantial evidence, what is it you need?' she whispered to the ceiling.
Motive. And what kind of motive could you uncover by interviewing Sanna’s daughters?
The realization dropped into her brain like a coin in a wishing well. It floated down through the water and settled on the bottom. The ripples on the surface died away, and the picture was crystal clear.
Viktor and the girls. Rebecka pushed the thought away. It just wasn’t possible. And yet, it was horribly possible.
She remembered how things had been when she arrived in Kurravaara. Lova dousing herself and the dog with soap. And hadn’t Sanna said she always carried on like that? Didn’t that seem like a typical thing to do for children who…
She couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought.
She suddenly thought of Sanna. Sanna, with her provocative clothes. And her heavy-handed, dangerous daddy.
How could I not have seen it, she thought. The family. The family secret. It can’t be true. It must be true.
But still, Sanna couldn’t have killed Viktor on her own. Sanna couldn’t have managed it, even if she’d wanted to.
She remembered the time Sanna had bought a toaster that didn’t work.
She couldn’t bring herself to take it back, she thought. If I hadn’t taken it she would have just kept quiet and held on to it.
She sat up on the bed, thinking. If Sanna didn’t want the children interviewed, then her parents were probably on the way here already. Presumably they’d already been to her grandmother’s house, rattling the door handle. And they were bound to be back any minute.
She picked up her cell phone and rang Anna-Maria Mella. She answered on her direct line at work. Sounded tired.
“I can’t explain,” said Rebecka, “but if you do want to interview the children, I can come in with them tomorrow. After that it’s going to be difficult for you.”
Anna-Maria kept her questions to herself.
“Fine” was all she said. “I’ll sort it out.”
They arranged a time for the following day, and Rebecka promised to bring the children in.
That’s it, then, thought Rebecka as she got up. Sorry, Sanna, but I won’t be checking my messages till tomorrow afternoon. So I still don’t know that you want your parents to take the girls.
She had to keep out of the way until the following day. She couldn’t stay here with the girls. Sanna had been to Sivving’s house.
At the police station Anna-Maria Mella was sitting in front of the computer, going through the matches for the participants in the conference. The corridor outside her room was in darkness. Next to her on the desk lay a half-eaten tuna pizza in its greasy box. There were matches for a surprising number of those involved in the Miracle Conference on the criminal records register, the register of suspects and the antisocial- behavior records. Most were drug-related offenses linked to theft and violence.
