Текст книги "Still Waters"

Автор книги: Viveca Sten

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CHAPTER 40

The dancing began after dinner. The same band had been playing at the Yacht Club for the past eighteen years. Nora had been a teenager when they’d first started, and the boys in the band just a few years older. At the time she had thought the guitarist was the best-looking boy she had ever seen.

Not anymore.

Henrik asked Nora to dance as the band struck up with “Lady in Red.” She had always thought they danced well together; they both had rhythm and found it easy to keep the beat. Nora felt much better about everything now. And things were bound to work out with the job in Malmö. If she got it. She ran her fingers down Henrik’s spine and breathed in the scent of him. She could never remember the name of his aftershave, but she would recognize it anywhere. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the music, feeling the melody all through her body.

After one more dance they went out onto the veranda to get some fresh air and cool down. The packed dance floor created an almost sauna-like heat.

Outside, it was pleasantly warm, with hundreds of masts silhouetted against the dark-blue sky. One or two boats were still flying their ensigns, in spite of the ancient custom that dictated that all flags should be lowered at nine o’clock in the evening in the summer. Many sailors were still on board, enjoying the beautiful evening.

Over by the pool, they could see motorboats whose owners had gathered to celebrate this Saturday evening, untroubled by the dramatic events of recent weeks.

The biggest motorboats, the Storebro and the Princess, lay side by side at the Via Mare jetty. There was a fine line between what constituted a boat and what was actually a floating summer cottage. Some of the boats were so enormous they could only berth in Sandhamn or Högböte, the harbor that was home to the Royal Motorboat Club.

Nora had once asked one of Henrik’s sailing friends how much a vessel like the Storebro would cost. He had given her a look and said, “Don’t worry about what the boat costs—worry about what it costs to fill her up!” She hadn’t asked any more questions after that.

Henrik interrupted Nora’s thoughts. “Did you enjoy dinner?”

He put his arm around her shoulders as she shivered in the evening breeze.

“I did. Johan is easy to talk to, even if his account of the qualities of your new mainsail did take up most of the main course.” Nora smiled at him. “But it’s lovely to have a pleasant evening together for a change. I’ve missed this.” She snuggled a little closer and gently stroked his cheek. “Have you given any more thought to the idea of moving to Malmö? It all sounds very exciting, doesn’t it? It would be a terrific opportunity for me.” The sense of pride at having been asked to apply for the post gave her a warm feeling. She gazed up at her husband, smiling.

Henrik looked back at her, surprise written all over his face. “I thought we’d finished talking about this. We can’t move the entire family to Malmö just because somebody offers you a job there.”

Nora was shocked. “What do you mean? Why can’t we move to Malmö just because somebody offers me a job there?”

“I can’t move, and I have no desire to do so. I’m very happy at the hospital in Danderyd. I have absolutely no wish to start again somewhere else.” He half turned and waved to a passing acquaintance. “Shall we go back inside? The others will be wondering where we’ve gone.”

Nora was at a loss for words. Then she furiously shook off his arm. The happy atmosphere was gone in a second; suddenly the gala and all those people laughing and dancing seemed a long way off.

“How can you possibly say we’ve finished talking about this? We haven’t even discussed it properly!” She pushed a strand of hair back from her face and continued. “Have you even heard what I’ve been trying to tell you?” To her surprise, her voice was shaking. “I thought we had a modern relationship, an equal marriage, where both our jobs were important, not just yours.”

“Calm down,” Henrik said. “Let’s not get carried away. I just meant that you need to be a little more realistic about the future. After all, I’m the main breadwinner. Our family and friends are in Stockholm. And I’ve got the boat here, of course.” He took a step back and looked at her. “There’s no need to be so melodramatic when I don’t agree with you.”

Henrik sounded exactly like the clinical practitioner he was. His voice was cool and distant, and he was looking at her as if she were a small child.

“I’m not being melodramatic.”

Nora blinked away a tear, even more angry because she was starting to cry. The injustice of it all took her breath away. She swallowed, partly to get rid of the lump in her throat and partly to prevent the tears from falling.

Henrik was expressionless. He took a few steps toward the door. “Yes, you are. Now pull yourself together so we can go back inside.” He took another step.

Nora clenched her fists in rage. Every time Henrik wanted to go away for a competition, the family simply had to make it work. His training sessions and sailing competitions already took up most weekends during the spring and autumn, and their entire summer vacation was arranged according to the various regattas. But when her job happened to be in the spotlight for once, she was being melodramatic.

Henrik was leaning impatiently against the doorframe. “Come on, Nora. Surely you don’t have to make a scene tonight of all nights. Can’t we just go back inside and enjoy ourselves? Is that too much to ask?”

Nora glared at him. “Yes,” she said. “It is.” She dashed away another tear. “I’m going home. This evening is over as far as I’m concerned.” She ran down the steps. The night was ruined. Henrik could come up with some explanation for his friends—she really didn’t care.

It had been a terrible week. Perhaps it was only fitting that it had ended with a terrible evening.

SUNDAY, THE FOURTH WEEK

CHAPTER 41

The attempt to clear his mind by going over to Harö hadn’t exactly been a success. By the time Thomas got there on Saturday afternoon he was far too pumped up on adrenaline to unwind completely. Instead he had gone out for a long run, followed by a refreshing dip from the jetty.

He had gone to bed early to try to catch up on the sleep he had lost during the week, but it had been a waste of time. He found it impossible to stop his mind from dwelling on the case. Fragments of conversations with potential witnesses and disjointed images of the victims whirled around in his head.

At about two o’clock in the morning he gave up, grabbed a beer, and went to sit on the jetty. The sun had already begun to rise; it didn’t stay below the horizon for very long at this time of year.

Thomas sat there thinking about the murders, and eventually he nodded off in his chair. His mother woke him when she came down for her morning swim.

“Have you been out here all night?” she asked, looking puzzled.

Thomas blinked at her, still only half-awake. “I couldn’t get to sleep, so I came down here.”

He sat up and ran his hands through his hair, then stretched to ease the muscles in his back, stiff from sitting in an awkward position in the chair.

It was a beautiful, still morning, with gentle ripples on the surface of the water. A little family of eider ducks with three ducklings came swimming along; one little ball of fluff almost got tangled up in a piece of floating yellow seaweed.

His mother shook her head, looking concerned. “You need to take things easy. You sleep badly and you eat badly. I’m going to make you a proper breakfast after my swim.”

Thomas smiled at her. He knew that his parents worried about him. Emily’s death had hit them hard. They had so looked forward to their first grandchild and had been utterly devastated by what had happened.

It suddenly struck him that they were both over seventy. Two living, healthy parents was no longer something he could take for granted.

He got up and gave his mother a great big bear hug. She almost disappeared in his embrace.

“Breakfast would be fantastic. I’m starving.”

After lunch, he abandoned the attempt to think of anything other than the investigation. He took out his laptop and logged on. He spread out all the relevant documents on the kitchen table, including information from the general public and the various reports that had been handed in during the week. Methodically he went through it all.

It was clear that few people had noticed Kicki Berggren’s visit to Sandhamn. Among the crowds of summer visitors, sailors, and tourists, hardly anyone had noticed a lonely woman of about fifty.

In spite of the fact that they had knocked on every single door in Sandhamn—more than once in some cases—their inquiries had produced little. Thomas rubbed his eyes and yawned. The only point of interest was a statement Erik had handed in. He had spoken to a woman who lived in the older part of the village who thought she remembered Kicki Berggren walking past the bakery heading toward Fläskberget—going west, in other words. The woman had noticed her because she had been wearing such high heels and had had some difficulty walking on the sand.

“These are much better,” the old lady had said, pointing to her white sneakers, the laces tied in a neat bow.

According to the report, Kicki Berggren had been looking around as if she didn’t really know where she was going.

The woman had also noticed that Kicki had spoken to someone, but she couldn’t remember who it was. She couldn’t for the life of her come up with any distinguishing features about the person Kicki had been talking to. She couldn’t even recall whether it was a man or a woman, let alone the person’s age or appearance. Just that Kicki seemed to be asking questions.

“I’m sorry, but it was all so quick. It was just something I saw out of the corner of my eye. I was too busy wondering how she could walk in those shoes,” she had explained when Erik pushed her for more details.

Thomas got up and went to make a cup of coffee. Two spoonfuls of instant coffee, hot water, two sugar lumps, and a little milk. He stirred thoughtfully as the sugar dissolved. Then he opened the cupboard to see if there was anything to eat. There wasn’t much, but he managed to locate an open packet of slightly stale cookies.

He took his coffee and the cookies back to the computer and sat down. He read through Erik’s report one more time as he pondered. If Kicki Berggren was going to visit someone, but didn’t know where that person lived, it was only logical that she would ask the way. The bakery was a natural meeting point on Sandhamn. Everyone who lived on the island went there on a regular basis to buy bread.

The woman had seen Kicki at some point on Friday afternoon. If one assumed that she was intending to visit someone who lived on the island, then she must have asked a resident. A sailor or a tourist probably wouldn’t have been able to help. Therefore, there had to be someone who had spoken to Kicki and who knew what questions she had asked.

The problem was that they had yet to find this unknown person. Nor had anyone come forward.

On the other hand, Thomas was well aware that he or she wasn’t necessarily still on the island. Many families shared the houses they had inherited, which meant that they spent only part of their vacation on Sandhamn. If this mysterious individual had left the island and gone somewhere else, perhaps to a different part of the country or even abroad, that would explain why the police hadn’t managed to track him or her down. There could also be an even simpler explanation: the person might not realize that he or she had spoken to the woman who had later been murdered and that the police would be interested. If this was the case, the chances of finding him or her were probably infinitesimal.

Thomas drank the last of his coffee. If they could find out whom Kicki Berggren had spoken to, it would provide an important piece of the puzzle.

He decided to post Erik at the bakery for the entire next day with a photograph of Kicki. He would ask him to speak to every person who turned up to find out if anyone had seen or spoken to her a week ago.

They also needed to question the bakery staff again. There was no guarantee that the girls who had been working there when the police turned up were the same as when Kicki stopped by. He remembered working in a bakery when he was a teenager; the employees had different shifts, coming and going all the time.

Thomas closed his eyes and tried to visualize the bakery. If you headed west from there, where would you end up?

In his mind’s eye he saw the lane where the red building housing the bakery was located. It led past one of the oldest houses on Sandhamn, a little cottage dating back to the eighteenth century where someone by the name of C. J. Sjöblom had once lived. The name was etched into the rock at the bottom of the steps leading up to the cottage. Apparently another past resident, an old woman, had made a living taking in laundry for the islanders.

The very thought of washing clothes by hand in winter in the ice-cold water made Thomas shudder.

He continued walking through the village in his mind.

If you carried on along the lane, you passed the little hill where children of every age wore out the seat of their pants by sliding down and landing on the sand.

Then came a row of old houses, followed by the marina for small boats to the north, then Kvarnberget.

Eventually you reached Fläskberget, an attractive sandy shore, which many families in the village preferred to the more famous Trouville beach, which was often packed with tourists.

Finally you came to Västerudd, the western point of the island, which consisted mainly of pine forests and low-growing blueberry bushes, with the odd large house and garden dotted around. It was on the beach between Koberget and Västerudd that Krister Berggren’s body had been found, next to a house owned by the Åkermark family. A stretch of sand with virtually no sign of habitation.

Thomas realized that if Kicki Berggren had been on her way to the western side of the island, it meant that the Trouville area could be discounted completely. This in turn meant that the search area was significantly reduced.

A welcome thought under the circumstances.

He decided to spend the following morning concentrating on the area between the bakery and Västerudd. With a bit of luck they would be able to find someone who had seen a blond woman in high heels wandering around last Friday.

Thomas stretched. He had earned a cold beer down by the jetty. At least he felt like he was getting somewhere.

CHAPTER 42

“What time are we leaving, Mom?” Simon patted Nora’s arm and planted a soft kiss on her cheek.

Nora looked around, only half-awake. The digital clock showed that it was only 7:20. Far too early to get up, at least if she had anything to say about it.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“What time are we leaving for Alskär? We’re going there with Fabian’s family, remember? That’s what you said yesterday.”

Nora suppressed a groan. She had completely forgotten that they had promised to take the children to the little island immediately northeast of Sandhamn, just a ten-minute boat trip away. There was a natural sandy beach on Alskär, plus a tiny island opposite that you could wade to. The children loved going there and making their way across the little sound.

Yesterday afternoon, when she was in a really good mood, she had happily agreed with Eva Lenander that they would spend Sunday on Alskär together. Eva’s son, Fabian, was Simon’s best friend on Sandhamn, and the Lenanders lived just a few minutes away.

A lovely day out with a picnic on the beach. Today it didn’t have quite the same appeal.

She turned her head and gazed at Henrik, who was still fast asleep.

She had been furious and disappointed when she’d gotten home last night. In spite of the fact that she was still awake when Henrik arrived soon after her, she’d pretended to be asleep. She hadn’t had the slightest desire to speak to him.

A trip with the Lenanders would mean they wouldn’t have the opportunity to sort out last night’s argument. Instead they would have to keep up the pretense all day, acting as if everything were fine. That didn’t feel right.

“Come on, Mom, when are we leaving?”

“Sweetheart, do you know what time it is? Come and cuddle and try to sleep for a bit longer. It’s much too early to go anywhere.”

Nora drew Simon close and pulled the covers over him. She could already feel the beginnings of a headache, but she couldn’t work out whether it was due to the lack of sleep or her anger at Henrik.

“Just for a little while,” she said.

Nora closed her eyes and tried to get back to sleep. It was easier said than done. Simon was wide awake and incapable of keeping still. If he wasn’t kicking her in the kidneys, he was pushing his little face up against her ribs. At around eight o’clock she gave up.

“OK, come on. We’ll get dressed and cycle down to the bakery for some fresh bread.”

At the bakery, they were met by the aroma of freshly baked bread and warm cakes. Other summer visitors who were up bright and early stood around in small groups, waiting for the shop to open. Nora chatted with several people she knew while waiting in line.

She bought fresh rolls and a loaf of bread. Simon was allowed to choose which cakes they should take with them to Alskär. He settled for two Sandhamn knots flavored with cardamom and two flaky Danish pastries with a generous dollop of vanilla in the center.

With Simon on the luggage rack, she carried on to the kiosk to buy a morning paper. There was no line when she got there, just a dog racing around with his tail in the air in spite of the fact that his owner was calling to him. A few hungry gulls circled overhead, searching for some discarded delicacy on which they could feast.

“Morning,” Nora greeted the woman in the kiosk, whose family she had known ever since she was a little girl. “Could I have a nice fresh morning paper, please?”

She held out her money and was met with a wry smile.

“I should think so. If you want to read the paper, that is. There seems to be no end to the nonsense they can come up with about the Sandhamn murders. And then there are the evening papers. We’ll see what nonsense they’ve made up after lunch.”

Nora took the paper and tucked it under her arm. “Have the deaths made a difference in your sales?”

“I’m afraid so. We usually have a line here in the afternoons at this time of year, but it’s been much quieter, and I should think it’ll get worse now that the regatta is over. I hope the police catch the killer soon. Otherwise businesses out here are going to be in trouble. We make our living in the summer.”

Nora stayed and chatted for a little while, then she lifted Simon back onto the luggage rack and cycled home. She hoped Henrik was still asleep. She almost wished he were still out sailing. She needed to think things through before she spoke to him.

As soon as breakfast was over, Nora started packing for their day out.

It was quite a task. Four beach towels, a picnic blanket, a mountain of beach toys in various colors, a big basket of sandwiches, pastries, juice, and a thermos of coffee. At the last minute she remembered to put in a roll of toilet paper; it always came in handy. Sunscreen and four life jackets, and she was ready.

The cordless phone rang, and she answered it.

“Nora, my dear.” Her mother-in-law’s domineering voice filled the receiver. Nora stiffened; the harsh sound of Monica Linde filled her entire body with distaste. “I want to speak to Henrik. Bring the children, and come over to Ingarö right now. I’ve already prepared the guesthouse. You can’t stay on that island while there’s a murderer on the loose.”

Nora sighed and forced herself not to lose her temper. She would rather stay on Sandhamn with ten murderers than spend one night with Monica at their country house on Ingarö. The long tradition of spending Christmas there with the entire Linde clan was more than enough. Monica ruled the roost, and Nora made such an effort to keep her mouth shut that her jaws ached. Henrik didn’t notice a thing, as usual. Once he was back in the home where he grew up he reverted to a spoiled teenager, letting his mom do everything. Meanwhile, Nora ran around trying to keep the boys in order and helping out as best she could. Her father-in-law usually fled to the sauna with an enormous drink, but she didn’t have that luxury.

“I’m sorry, Monica. Henrik is already down at the jetty. We’re going out for the day. I’ll ask him to call you when we get back.”

She quickly ended the call in spite of Monica’s protests. Henrik had in fact gone down to the boat to get everything ready and check that there was enough fuel in the tank.

Nora slipped on her life jacket and turned the key in the door. She didn’t usually bother to lock up; on the contrary, she often left the veranda door open, both to let in some fresh air and to show that they were home. But at the moment it just didn’t feel safe, particularly as they were going to be out all day.

As she was passing Signe’s house, the kitchen window opened, and a familiar face appeared.

“Are you going sailing?”

“It looks that way,” Nora said. She really was fond of her neighbor. “We’re going to Alskär; the kids love it. We’re going with the Lenanders—you know, Fabian’s parents.”

“What a good idea—Alskär is a wonderful place.”

Nora smiled at Signe. Just the thought of a boat trip made her feel more cheerful.

“Take these for the boys.” Signe passed a bag of jam tarts out of the window. “I know they love them, and I expect even you and Henrik might manage one or two.”

“That’s so kind of you—thank you!” Nora took the sweets, placed them carefully in her beach bag, and waved her grateful thanks to Signe before heading down to the jetty.

Henrik had already cast off, and the boys were sitting in the prow. As usual Adam had been pestering Henrik, demanding to steer; Henrik had promised that he could have a try as soon as they were out in open water.

Nora sat down in the middle of the boat, at a safe distance from Henrik.

They had maintained a polite and neutral tone all morning and had discussed only practical matters. Neither of them had mentioned the previous night’s argument. Fortunately the boys had been jumping around, full of excitement about the day’s outing, and it had been easy to hide behind their eager chatter.

The Lenanders were already there when they arrived. Henrik maneuvered in among the rocks and dropped anchor. Alskär had a natural harbor, so it was just a matter of finding a suitable place to moor the boat. Everyone tried to avoid dragging the boats up onto the shore so that the little beach was left free for the children to build their sandcastles.

After their picnic Nora went for a walk with Eva. On the other side of the island there was an area of completely flat stones, worn so smooth by wind and water that it felt like a baby’s bottom when you ran a hand over the warm rock. Nora and Eva sat down for a while.

It was a beautiful spot. Far away they could just see the tower of the lighthouse on Korsö, with lots of yachts in the distance. The sky was a perfect shade of blue, with the odd wispy cloud here and there. They looked like little scraps of the finest cotton wool, dotted across the sky. A herring gull swooped after food on the surface of the water.

“So, how are things?” Eva asked. She had become a good friend in recent years. Nora saw her almost every day, since Fabian and Simon attended swimming lessons together. Eva was one of those rare individuals who really seemed to care about other people and was always in a good mood.

Nora met Eva’s concerned gaze. She knew she had been unusually subdued all day.

“Could be better. It hasn’t been a great week, has it?” Nora said.

“Did you have a good time last night?”

“Not exactly. We had a massive fight about that job I mentioned the other day.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Eva placed a consoling hand on Nora’s shoulder.

Nora tucked her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. She thought for a moment before she answered. “Henrik can’t understand why I’m interested in working in Malmö. He won’t even try to listen. He doesn’t want to move away from Stockholm; he thinks we have a good life at the moment, and there’s nothing to discuss.” She picked up a small pebble and skimmed it across the water. It bounced three times before sinking. She found another that was nice and flat and tried again. This time she counted four. Her personal best was seven, but that must have been at least fifteen years ago—maybe even twenty. “It’s as if his job is the only one that counts.”

“But you do have a good life, don’t you?” Eva said.

“That’s not the point. We have a great life, of course we do, but at least we ought to be able to talk about this before he dismisses the whole idea. What do you think would have happened if it had been the other way round? If he’d been made a terrific offer from Sahlgrenska University Hospital in Gothenburg?” She picked up another pebble and hurled it furiously into the sea. It sank immediately. “I just can’t stand the thought of going back after our vacation and working with Ragnar again. The man is a complete idiot.” She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. “And I’m an idiot if I don’t move. Particularly when the bank is offering me an opportunity like this.”

Eva patted her on the shoulder again to show her sympathy. Then she adjusted the strap of her red swimsuit and lay down on her stomach on the warm rock. “This hasn’t been an easy week for you. How’s the investigation going, by the way? Have you heard anything from Thomas?”

Nora shook her head. “I haven’t spoken to him—we’ve just exchanged some texts. He’s been so busy. He sent a message to tell me he’d be on Harö this weekend, mainly to get some sleep, I think. He’s been working all hours. The last time I saw him he looked absolutely shattered.”

“There was something I wanted to talk to him about . . . I think.”

Nora looked at Eva, who frowned and started chewing her thumbnail. “What do you mean?”

“We had visitors from Stockholm last Sunday. Malin called me last night to say thanks.” Eva hesitated. “She said she was almost certain she’d been sitting a couple seats away from Jonny Almhult on the ferry back to Stockholm.”

Nora sat up and turned her head so she could see Eva more clearly in the bright sunlight. “Is she sure?”

“She said she remembered him because he stank of stale booze. They were only a few feet apart. Her oldest daughter wanted to know why he smelled so horrible. You know, the way kids do.”

“Go on.”

“That’s it. They disembarked, and she didn’t give it another thought until Jonny’s body was found, and she saw his picture in the paper. That was when she realized he’d been sitting near them on the ferry.” She fell silent and looked anxiously at Nora.

“Has she called the police?”

“I don’t think so. It didn’t sound as if she had. Should I mention it to Thomas?”

“Definitely,” Nora said. “Thomas told me every piece of information is valuable. They’re trying to find out where Jonny was before he died. Did your friend see where he went when they got to Stockholm?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think to ask,” Eva said.

Nora got to her feet. “Come on. Let’s go back. We need to call Thomas.”