The Preacher. Camilla Lackberg

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СКАЧАТЬ the ladies in his faithful congregation, Margareta Dybling, died and left everything she owned to him. Besides a considerable fortune in ready cash, she left a large forested estate and a magnificent manor house in the vicinity of Fjällbacka. Ephraim suddenly lost all desire to spread God’s word. He moved here with his sons, and the family has been living on the old lady’s money ever since.’

      The whiteboard was now covered with notes, and there were papers spread all over Patrik’s desk.

      ‘Not that it isn’t interesting to have a little family history, but what does this have to do with the murders? As you said, Johannes died more than twenty years before Tanja was murdered, and dead men don’t kill people, as you so eloquently expressed it.’ Martin had a hard time hiding his impatience.

      ‘True, but I’ve gone over all the old material, and Gabriel’s testimony is actually the only interesting thing I found from the old investigation. I’d also hoped to be able to talk with Errold Lind, who was in charge of the investigation, but unfortunately he died of a heart attack in 1989, so this material is all we have to go on. Unless you have some better suggestions, I propose that we start by finding out a bit more about Tanja, as well as talking with Siv and Mona’s surviving parents. After that we’ll decide whether it’s worth having another talk with Gabriel Hult.’

      ‘Sure, that sounds sensible. What should I do first?’

      ‘Start with the investigation about Tanja. And make sure you put Gösta to work on it as of tomorrow. His halcyon days are over.’

      ‘What about Mellberg and Ernst? What are you going to do about them?’

      Patrik sighed. ‘My strategy is to keep them out of it as best I can. That will mean a bigger workload for the rest of us, but I think we’ll come out ahead in the long run. Mellberg will just be glad to get out of doing anything, and besides, he’s basically sworn off this investigation. Ernst will have to keep on doing what he’s been doing, handling as many of the incoming reports as he can. If he needs help we’ll send Gösta. As far as possible, I want the two of us to be free to run this investigation. Understood?’

      Martin nodded eagerly. ‘Yes, boss.’

      ‘Then let’s get going.’

      After Martin left, Patrik sat facing the whiteboard, deep in thought with his hands clasped behind his head. It was an enormous task they were undertaking, and they had hardly any experience in homicide investigations. His heart sank with a sudden feeling of apprehension. He sincerely hoped that what they lacked in experience they could make up for with dedication. Martin was already on board, and damned if he wasn’t going to wake Gösta Flygare out of his Sleeping Beauty sleep as well. If they could just manage to keep Mellberg and Ernst away from the investigation, Patrik thought they might have a chance to solve the murders. But the odds were against them, especially considering that the trail for two of the murders was so cold that it was almost in a deep freeze. He knew that the best chance they had was to concentrate on Tanja. At the same time his instinct told him that there was such a strong and clear connection between the murders that they would have to be investigated simultaneously. It was not going to be easy to shake some life into the old investigation, but they would have to try.

      He grabbed an umbrella from the stand, checked an address in the telephone book, and headed off with a heavy heart. Certain duties demanded more of him than he could humanly bear.

      The rain drummed persistently on the windowpanes, and under different circumstances Erica would have welcomed the coolness it brought. But fate and importunate relatives made her feel otherwise, and she was slowly but surely being driven to the brink of madness.

      The kids dashed about as if they were going crazy in their frustration at having to stay indoors, while Conny and Britta had begun to turn on each other like cornered dogs. It had not yet escalated to a full-fledged fight, but their bickering had now reached the level of hissing and snapping. Old sins and injustices were being dragged up, and all Erica wanted to do was go upstairs and pull the covers over her head. But once again her good upbringing stood in her way, wagging its finger and forcing her to try to behave in a civilized manner in the midst of a war zone.

      She had gazed longingly at the door when Patrik went off to work. He hadn’t been able to conceal his relief at being able to escape to the station, and for a little while she had been tempted to test his promise to stay at home whenever she asked. But she knew that it wouldn’t be right to do it just because she didn’t want to be left alone with ‘the fearsome four’. Instead, like a dutiful little wife, she waved to her husband from the kitchen window as he drove away.

      The house was not big enough to keep the general disarray from reaching catastrophic proportions. She had taken out some games for the kids, but the only result was that alphabet blocks now lay strewn all over the living room in a glorious mess along with Monopoly houses and playing cards. Laboriously she bent down and gathered up the tiny game pieces, trying to bring a little order to the room. The conversation out on the veranda where Britta and Conny were sitting grew more and more heated, and she began to understand why the kids had not acquired any manners. With parents who quarrelled like five-year-olds it wasn’t easy to learn respect for others and their belongings. If only this day would be over! As soon as it stopped raining she would send the Flood family packing. Never mind good manners and hospitality – she would need to be Saint Birgitta herself not to have a fit if they stayed much longer.

      The bombshell dropped at lunch. With aching feet and a pain in her lower back she had stood at the stove for an hour, making a lunch that would suit Conny’s voracious appetite as well as the children’s finicky tastes, and in her own estimation she had succeeded rather well. Falun sausage au gratin with macaroni would satisfy all takers, she thought. But she soon learned that she had been dreadfully mistaken.

      ‘Yuck, I hate Falun sausage. Gross!’

      Lisa demonstratively shoved away her plate and crossed her arms with a sullen expression.

      ‘That’s too bad, because that’s what we’re having.’ Erica’s voice was firm.

      ‘But I’m hu-u-u-ungry. I want something else.’

      ‘There isn’t anything else. If you don’t like Falun sausages then you can eat the macaroni with ketchup.’ Erica was making an effort to keep her tone of voice steady, even though she was boiling inside.

      ‘Macaroni is gross. I want something else. Mam-ma-a-a-a!’

      ‘Could you possibly get her something different?’ Britta patted her little whiner on the cheek and was rewarded with a smile. Confident of victory, Lisa’s cheeks took on the glow of triumph as she gave Erica a defiant look. But now the line had been crossed. Now it was war.

      ‘There isn’t anything else. Either you eat what’s in front of you or go hungry.’

      ‘But dear Erica, I think you’re being unreasonable,’ said Britta. ‘Conny, explain to her how we do things at home, what our policy on childrearing is.’ But she didn’t bother to wait for a reply. ‘We don’t force our children to do anything. That would stunt their development. If my Lisa wants something different, we think it’s her right to have it. I mean, she is an individual with just as much right to express herself as the rest of us. And what would you think if somebody tried to force you to eat food that you didn’t like? I don’t think you would accept it.’

      Britta lectured in her best psychologist voice, and Erica suddenly knew this was the last straw. With icy calm she took the girl’s plate, raised it over Britta’s head, and then turned it over. The shock when the macaroni ran down over СКАЧАТЬ