Camilla Lackberg Crime Thrillers 1 and 2: The Ice Princess, The Preacher. Camilla Lackberg

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СКАЧАТЬ tugged at his collar. Not until they each had a cup of steaming hot coffee before them did she gesture to the constable to continue. She herself had not yet uttered a word. She listened to a humming sound in her head that grew louder and louder. She saw the constable’s mouth moving, but not a word penetrated the cacophony in her head. She didn’t need to hear. She knew that Arvid now was on the bottom of the sea, swaying in time with the seaweed. No words could change that. No words could chase away the clouds that now gathered in the sky until all that was visible was a murky grey.

      Vera sighed as she sat now at the kitchen table, many years later. Others who had lost loved ones said that the image of them faded as the years passed. For her it had been just the opposite. The image of Arvid grew clearer and clearer; sometimes she saw him so clearly before her that the pain felt like an iron band round her heart. The fact that Anders was the spitting image of Arvid was both a curse and a blessing. She knew that if Arvid had lived, the evil never would have happened. He had been her strength; with him beside her she could have been as strong as she should have been.

      Vera gave a start when the telephone rang. She had been deeply immersed in old memories and didn’t like being disturbed by the shrill ring of the phone. She had to lift her legs down from the chair where they had gone to sleep. Then she hobbled to the phone that was out in the hall.

      ‘Mamma, it’s me.’

      Anders was slurring his words, and from years of experience she knew precisely what stage of intoxication he was in. About halfway to passing out. She sighed.

      ‘Hello, Anders. How’s it going?’

      He ignored the question. She’d had countless conversations like this.

      Vera could see herself in the hall mirror as she stood with the receiver to her ear. The mirror was old and worn, with dark spots on the glass; she thought how much she was like that mirror. Her hair was shabby and grey, with its original dark colour still visible here and there. She always combed her hair straight back and cut it herself with nail scissors in front of the bathroom mirror. No sense throwing money away on a hairdresser. Her face was furrowed and wrinkled with years of worry. Her clothes matched her appearance: almost colourless but practical, most often grey or green. Many years of hard work and a lack of interest in food had prevented her from becoming stout like many other women her age. Instead she looked wiry and strong. Like a work horse.

      She suddenly registered what Anders was saying on the other end of the line and looked away from the mirror in shock.

      ‘Mamma, there are police cars outside. It’s a hell of an escort. It must be me they’re after. It has to be. What the hell should I do?’

      Vera heard his voice getting more frantic; his panic was rising with each syllable. An icy cold spread through her body. In the mirror she saw that she was holding the phone with white knuckles.

      ‘Don’t do anything, Anders. Just wait there. I’m coming.’

      ‘Okay, but hurry for God’s sake. This isn’t the usual way the cops arrive, Mamma, they usually come in one car. Now there are three cars outside with all their blue lights and sirens going. Damn …’

      ‘Anders, listen to me now. Take a deep breath and calm down. I’m going to hang up now and I’ll be there as quick as I can.’

      She could hear that she’d managed to calm him a little, but as soon as she hung up she threw on her coat and ran out the door, not bothering to lock it.

      She ran across the car park beyond the old taxi stand and took the short-cut behind the loading dock of Eva’s Foods. She had to slow down after that, and it took her almost ten minutes to reach the block of flats where Anders lived.

      She got there in time to see two husky policemen lead him away in handcuffs. A shriek surged up in her chest, but she forced it back when she saw all the neighbours hanging out their windows like snooping vultures. There was no way she was going to give them more of a show than what they had already witnessed. Her pride was all she had left. Vera hated the gossip that she knew clung to her and Anders like chewing-gum. There was always a lot of whispering going on, and now it would gather speed. She knew what they were going to say: ‘Poor Vera, first her husband drowns and then her son ruins his life with booze. And she’s such a dependable person.’ Yes, she knew exactly what they were going to say. But she also knew that she would do everything in her power to limit the damage. She just couldn’t break down now. Then everything would collapse like a house of cards. Vera turned to the closest police officer, a small blonde woman Vera thought looked ill-suited to the severe police uniform. She still hadn’t got used to the newfangled arrangement that women could apparently do any job they liked.

      ‘I’m Anders Nilsson’s mother. What’s happening here? Where are you taking him?’

      ‘Unfortunately I can’t give you any information. You’ll have to check with the police station in Tanumshede. They’re taking him there under arrest.’

      Her heart sank with every word. She understood that it wasn’t about a drunken fight this time. The police cars began driving off one by one. In the last one she saw Anders sitting between two officers. He turned round as they pulled away and looked at her until they drove out of sight.

      Patrik saw the car with Anders Nilsson drive off in the direction of Tanumshede. The massive police presence had been a little overdone, he thought. But Mellberg wanted a show, so there was a show. Extra resources from Uddevalla had been called in to assist in the arrest. In Patrik’s opinion the only result was that, of the six men present, it was a waste of time for at least four of them.

      A woman was still standing in the car park, gazing after the police cars.

      ‘The perp’s mother,’ said senior constable Lena Waltin from the Uddevalla police, who had also stayed behind to help Patrik search Anders Nilsson’s flat.

      ‘You know better, Lena – he’s not a “perp” before he’s found guilty and convicted. Until then he’s just as innocent as the rest of us.’

      ‘I sure as hell doubt that. I’d bet a year’s salary that he’s guilty.’

      ‘If you’re so sure, then you would bet more than such a negligible sum.’

      ‘Ha ha, very funny. Joking with a cop about salary is like tripping a cripple, for God’s sake.’

      Patrik had to agree. ‘No, there’s probably not much to expect. Shall we go up?’

      He saw that Anders’s mother was still standing there gazing after the squad cars, even though they had long since disappeared from view. He felt genuinely sorry for her and considered for a moment going over to offer some words of solace. But Lena pulled on his sleeve and motioned towards the entrance to the building. He sighed, shrugged his shoulders and followed her inside to execute the search warrant.

      They tried the door to Anders Nilsson’s flat. It was unlocked and they could walk straight into the hall. Patrik looked around and sighed for the second time in a minute. The flat was in sad shape, and he wondered how they would ever find anything of value in this mess. They stepped over empty bottles in the hall and surveyed the living room and kitchen.

      ‘Damn.’ Lena shook her head in disgust.

      They took thin plastic gloves out of their pockets and pulled them on. In silent agreement, Patrik started in the living room while Lena took the kitchen.

      It was a slightly schizophrenic СКАЧАТЬ