The Lost Boy. Camilla Lackberg

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СКАЧАТЬ didn’t have any other questions at the moment, but Gösta couldn’t help thinking that Mats Sverin seemed as anonymous and faceless as he had before they began this interview with his boss. And he couldn’t help wondering what they might find when they finally started scratching the surface.

      The Sverins’ small house was located down by the water’s edge in Mörhult. It was warmer today – a lovely early summer day, and Patrik left his jacket in the car. He had phoned ahead to say that he would be coming, and when Gunnar opened the door, he looked down the hall to the kitchen and saw that the table had been set for coffee. That was how things were done here on the coast. Coffee and biscuits were always served, no matter whether the occasion was joyous or sorrowful. Over the many years that he’d spent on the police force, Patrik had downed countless gallons of coffee as he visited local citizens.

      ‘Come in. I’ll just go and see if I can get Signe to …’ Without finishing his sentence, Gunnar turned to go upstairs.

      Patrik remained where he was, thinking that he would wait in the front hall. But Gunnar was gone a long time, and finally Patrik moved towards the kitchen. The whole house seemed cloaked in silence, so he took the liberty of stepping inside the living room. It was a pleasant room, nice and tidy with elegant old furniture and doilies everywhere, as was customary in the homes of elderly people. Scattered about were framed photographs of their son. As he looked at them, Patrik was able to follow Mats’s life from infancy to adulthood. He had an agreeable appearance, a likeable face. He looked happy. Judging by the photos, he’d had a good childhood.

      ‘Signe will be right down.’

      Patrik was so immersed in his own thoughts that Gunnar’s voice almost made him drop the framed picture he was holding.

      ‘You certainly have a lot of nice photos.’ Carefully he set the photograph back on the bureau and followed Gunnar out to the kitchen.

      ‘I’ve always enjoyed taking pictures, so we’ve accumulated a lot of them over the years. And we’re glad to have them now. As a reminder of him, I mean.’ Embarrassed, Gunnar began fussing with the plates and filling the coffee cups.

      ‘Do you take sugar or milk? Or both?’

      ‘Black is fine. Thanks.’ Patrik sat down on one of the white kitchen chairs.

      Gunnar set a cup in front of him and then sat down on the other side of the table.

      ‘We might as well start. I’m sure Signe will be here soon,’ he said, casting a worried glance at the stairs. Not a sound could be heard from overhead.

      ‘How’s she doing?’

      ‘She hasn’t said a word since yesterday. The doctor said he’d look in on her later. All she does is lie in bed, but I don’t think she slept a wink all night.’

      ‘Looks like you’ve received a lot of flowers,’ said Patrik, nodding at the counter where big bouquets had been placed in all sorts of containers serving as vases.

      ‘Everyone has been so nice. They’ve offered to come over, but I can’t stand the thought of having a bunch of people sitting around the house.’ He dropped a sugar cube in his cup and began stirring. Then he reached for a biscuit and dipped it in his coffee before putting it in his mouth. He seemed to have a hard time swallowing the mouthful and had to wash it down with some coffee.

      ‘There you are.’ Gunnar turned around to look at Signe as she entered the hall.

      They hadn’t heard her come down the stairs. Gunnar stood up and went over to his wife. Gently he put his arm around her and led her to the table, as if she were a very old woman. She seemed to have aged several years just since yesterday.

      ‘The doctor will be here in a while. Have some coffee and a biscuit. You need to get something in your stomach. Should I make you a sandwich?’

      She shook her head. It was the first time she’d reacted, acknowledging that she had heard what he said.

      ‘I’m terribly sorry,’ said Patrik, and he couldn’t resist placing his hand over hers. She didn’t pull it away, but neither did she respond to the gesture. Her hand felt limp and dead. ‘I wish that I didn’t have to disturb you at a time like this. At least, not so soon after what happened.’

      As usual, he was having a hard time finding the words. Since becoming a parent, he found it harder than ever to deal with people who had lost a child, even if that child was grown up. What was he supposed to say to someone whose heart had been ripped out? Because that was how he imagined it must feel.

      ‘We realize that you have a job to do,’ said Gunnar. ‘And of course we want you to find the person who … did this. If there’s any way that we can help, we want to do that.’

      He was sitting next to his wife, and now he protectively drew his chair closer to hers. She hadn’t touched her coffee.

      ‘Have some,’ he said, lifting the cup to her lips. Reluctantly she took a few sips.

      ‘We talked about this yesterday, but could you tell me a little more about Mats? Any details you’d like to share with me, no matter how big or small.’

      ‘He was always so nice, even as a baby,’ said Signe. Her voice sounded dry and raspy, as if she hadn’t spoken in a long time. ‘He slept the whole night through, right from the start, and he was never any trouble. But I worried about him; I always have. I kept thinking that something terrible was going to happen.’

      ‘And you were right. I should have listened to you,’ said Gunnar, fixing his eyes on the table.

      ‘No, you were the one who was right,’ said Signe, looking at him. She seemed to have suddenly woken up from her stupor. ‘I wasted so much time and happiness by worrying, while you were always glad and grateful for what we had, and for Matte. It’s impossible to prepare for something like this happening. I’ve spent my whole life worrying about everything between heaven and earth, but I was never able to prepare myself for this. I should have been happier.’ She fell silent. Then she said, ‘What do you want to know?’ And she picked up her cup to drink her coffee without waiting to be coaxed.

      ‘Did he go to Göteborg when he moved away from home?’

      ‘Yes, after secondary school he enrolled in the Business College. He received excellent marks,’ said Gunnar, obviously proud of his son.

      ‘But he often came home on the weekends,’ added Signe. Talking about her son seemed to be having a positive effect on her. She now had a little more colour in her cheeks, and her eyes were clearer.

      ‘Naturally, in recent years he didn’t come as often. But in those early years he was home almost every weekend,’ said Gunnar, nodding.

      ‘And things went well with his studies?’ Patrik had decided to stick to subjects that would make Signe and Gunnar feel calm and relaxed.

      ‘Yes, he got good marks in college too,’ said Gunnar. ‘I never understood how he came to be so good at book learning. He didn’t get it from me, at any rate.’ He smiled and for a moment seemed to forget why they were on this subject. But then it all came back to him, and his smile faded.

      ‘So what did he do after he finished his degree?’

      ‘His first job was for that auditing company, wasn’t it?’ СКАЧАТЬ