The Lost Boy. Camilla Lackberg

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      ‘Thanks, I will,’ Patrik lied. He had already phoned Erica to say that he would be home late. The investigative team needed to devise a strategy tonight. And after a couple of hours’ sleep, he’d be back at the station early in the morning. He knew that he ought to have learned his lesson after what he’d just been through. But his job came first. He couldn’t help it.

      Erica stared at the wood burning in the fireplace. She had tried not to sound concerned when Patrik called. Although she kept telling herself he was looking much better, with some colour in his face again, and even though she knew this was one of those times when he needed to stay late at work, it worried her that he seemed to have forgotten his promise to take it easy.

      She wondered who the dead man was. Patrik hadn’t wanted to say much on the phone. All he told her was that a man had been found dead in Fjällbacka. She was eager to hear more. As a writer, a keen sense of curiosity was essential. She always wanted to find out the inside story of people and events. In time, she was sure that she’d hear all about it. Even if Patrik declined to tell her, the news would soon spread. That was both the advantage and disadvantage of living in a small town like Fjällbacka.

      The thought of all the support they’d received after the car accident still moved her to tears. Everyone had offered help, be they close friends or people they hardly knew. Some had babysat for Maja and kept an eye on the house; others had left food on the doorstep when she and Patrik had finally come home from the hospital. And at the hospital they had practically drowned in all the flowers, boxes of chocolates, and toys for the children. All gifts from people in town. That was the way it was. In Fjällbacka, everyone stuck together.

      Tonight, however, Erica was feeling lonely. Her first impulse after talking to Patrik had been to ring Anna. She felt a pang in her heart, as usual, when she realized that she couldn’t do that, and slowly she set the cordless phone back down on the table.

      The children were asleep upstairs. The fire was crackling in the fireplace, and outside dusk was gathering. During the past few months she had felt frightened many times, yet never lonely. On the contrary, for she’d been constantly surrounded by other people. But not tonight.

      When she heard the babies crying upstairs, she quickly got to her feet. It was going to take a while to feed the twins and get them to fall asleep again, but at least that would keep her from worrying about Patrik.

      ‘It’s been a long day, but I thought we should spend some time comparing notes and coming up with a plan before we all go home to rest.’

      Patrik glanced at the others. Everyone looked tired but focused. They had long ago given up any thought of meeting in any room other than the station’s kitchen. And Gösta had proven to be unusually considerate tonight by making sure that everybody had a cup of hot coffee.

      ‘Martin, could you summarize what we’ve learned by knocking on doors today?’

      ‘We went round to all the other flats and actually managed to find most of the tenants at home. There are only a few that we still need to talk to. Obviously our first objective has been to find out whether anyone heard noises coming from Mats Sverin’s flat. Loud voices, shots, or any other sort of commotion. But on that point we pretty much came up empty-handed. The one person who might have heard something was the man in the next-door flat. His name is Leandersson. He was awakened early on Saturday by a sound that could have been a gunshot, but his memory of the sound is very vague. All he can say for sure is that he remembers being awakened by something.’

      ‘And no one saw anybody arriving or leaving?’ asked Mellberg.

      Annika was furiously taking notes as the others talked.

      ‘Nobody recalls seeing any visitors at Sverin’s flat during the whole time he lived there.’

      ‘How long is that?’

      ‘His father said that he had only recently moved here from Göteborg. I’m planning to have another talk with the parents tomorrow, when they’ve calmed down a bit. I’ll ask them for a more precise date then,’ said Patrik.

      ‘So we didn’t get any useful information from knocking on doors,’ Mellberg concluded, staring at Martin as if holding him responsible.

      ‘No, not much, at any rate,’ said Martin, staring back at his boss. Although still the youngest person at the station, he had lost the timid respect he’d had for Mellberg when he first joined the force.

      ‘Let’s move on.’ Patrik once again took charge of the meeting. ‘I talked to the father, but the mother was in such a state of shock that I wasn’t able to interview her. As I mentioned, I plan to drive over to see them tomorrow and conduct a longer interview. I hope to find out a lot more, but according to the father, Gunnar Sverin, he and his wife have no idea who might want to harm their son. Apparently Mats hadn’t acquired many friends since moving back to Fjällbacka, even though he was originally from here. I’d like someone to talk to his work colleagues tomorrow. Paula and Gösta, could you take care of that?’

      They glanced at each other and nodded.

      ‘Martin, you’ll keep chasing down the neighbours that we haven’t yet talked to. Oh, and I forgot to say that Gunnar mentioned his son had been the victim of a serious assault in Göteborg shortly before he moved here. I’ll check up on that myself.’

      Then Patrik turned to his boss. It had become routine to make sure that Mellberg’s often damaging interference in an investigation was kept to a minimum.

      ‘Bertil,’ he now said solemnly. ‘We need you here at the station in your capacity as chief of police. You’re the best person to deal with the media, and there’s no way of knowing when an important lead will turn up.’

      Mellberg immediately cheered up.

      ‘Of course. Absolutely. I have an excellent relationship with the media and a lot of experience in dealing with them.’

      ‘Great,’ said Patrik, without a trace of sarcasm. ‘So we all have assignments to get started on tomorrow. Annika, we’ll submit our reports to you, since we need someone to collate all the information.’

      ‘I’ll be here,’ said Annika, closing her notebook.

      ‘Good. Now let’s all go home to our loved ones and grab a few hours’ sleep.’

      As he spoke those words, Patrik felt an intense longing to be home with Erica and the children. It was late, and he felt exhausted. Ten minutes later he was on his way to Fjällbacka.

       FJÄLLBACKA 1870

       Karl still hadn’t touched her in that way, and Emelie was feeling confused. She didn’t know much about such matters, but she was aware that certain things went on between a man and a woman that hadn’t yet taken place.

       She wished that Edith were here and that they hadn’t parted under strained circumstances when she left the farm. Then she would have been able to talk to Edith about all this, or at least she could have written to her and asked for advice. Because a wife couldn’t very well venture to discuss this type of thing with her husband. It simply wasn’t done. Nevertheless, she did think it was all a bit strange.

       Her initial СКАЧАТЬ