The Stonecutter (36 page)

He heard footsteps approaching and took a step back. Martin stirred tensely beside him, and standing behind them were several colleagues from Uddevalla, including some who could provide invaluable expertise in these cases—computer experts.

The door opened and Kaj’s thin form appeared. As always, he was formally dressed, and Patrik wondered if he even owned any casual clothes. Patrik himself always slipped on a pair of worn-out jogging trousers and a cozy sweatshirt the minute he got home.

‘What is it this time?’ Kaj stuck his head out of the door and frowned at the police cars parked in his driveway. ‘Is it really necessary for you to advertise your presence like this? The old lady next door is probably fainting with glee. If you have something to ask me, you could just pick up the phone, or send over one person instead of a whole troop!’

Patrik studied him for a moment, wondering whether Kaj really was so smug that even the sight of uniformed policemen showing up at his door didn’t worry him that he might have been found out. Or maybe he was simply a good actor.

‘We have a warrant to search the premises. And we request that you accompany us to the station for questioning.’ Patrik kept his voice extremely formal.

‘A warrant to search my house? What the hell? Did that damned woman think this up? I swear I’m going to …’ Kaj stepped onto the porch, heading for the Florins’ house. Patrik held up his hand, and Martin blocked his way.

‘This has nothing to do with Lilian Florin. We have information that implicates you in child pornography.’

Kaj stiffened. Patrik realized that he hadn’t been acting earlier: this really was a surprise. Stammering, he tried to regain his composure.

‘Wha … what in … what are you saying, man?’ But his protest sounded powerless, and the shock had made his shoulders slump.

‘As I said, we have a warrant to search the premises, and if you’d be so kind as to come with us, we intend to continue this conversation quietly at the station.’

Patrik had to keep swallowing to get the bitter taste out of his mouth. He wanted to throw himself at Kaj and shake him, ask him how, why, what it was that enticed him about children that he couldn’t get in an adult relationship. But there would be plenty of time for those questions. The most important thing right now was to secure the evidence.

Kaj seemed to be utterly paralyzed. Without replying or taking along a jacket, he followed them down the stairs and compliantly got into the back seat of one of the police cars.

Patrik turned to his colleagues from Uddevalla. ‘We’ll take him in and begin the questioning. You do what you have to do here, and call if you find anything we can use. I know I don’t have to point this out, but I’ll say it anyway: take all the computers and don’t forget that the warrant includes the cabin on the property. I know there’s at least one computer in there.’

His colleagues nodded seriously and entered the house.

Elated, Lilian strolled past the police cars as she made her way home. Her dreams had been answered. An entire phalanx of officers outside Kaj’s house, and on top of that, she’d seen Kaj himself being led into one of the cars. She was overjoyed. After all these years of trouble, karma had finally caught up with him. God knows that she herself had always behaved correctly. Could she help it that she valued decorum? Could she help it that he had been so unneighborly, so that she had been forced to answer in kind? And people had the nerve to claim that she was belligerent. Sure, she’d heard the gossip. But the trouble between them was not her fault. If Kaj hadn’t kept it up by bothering them and doing stupid things, she wouldn’t have made a fuss. And as for that peculiar son of theirs, everybody knew that sooner or later, people like that would present problems. Even though she may have exaggerated her account of Morgan’s snooping, she did it only to prevent further problems. People like that could come up with anything if they were allowed to run free, and it was common knowledge that they had an overactive sex drive.

But now everybody see what she had known all along. It wasn’t outside
her
house that the police were swarming. With crossed arms and a satisfied smile, she paused outside her front door to enjoy the show.

When the police car with Kaj drove off, she reluctantly went inside. She pondered for a moment whether to go next door as a concerned citizen and ask what was going on. But the police quickly disappeared inside Kaj’s house, and she didn’t want to seem like such a busybody that she would go over and knock on the door.

As she took off her shoes and hung up her jacket, she wondered whether Monica knew what was going on. Maybe she ought to call her at the library and tell her, just to be neighborly. But Stig’s voice from upstairs interrupted her thoughts.

‘Lilian, is that you?’

She went upstairs. He sounded feeble today. ‘Yes, darling, it’s me.’

‘Where have you been?’

He looked up at her pitifully as she entered his bedroom. What a weak little soul he was now. Tenderness flared inside her when she realized how dependent he was on her care. It warmed her heart to feel so needed. It was like when Charlotte was a child. What a feeling of power that had been, to be responsible for such a helpless little life. She had liked that period the best. Gradually, as Charlotte grew up, she had slipped more and more out of her mother’s hands. If Lilian had been able to do so, she would have frozen time and stopped her from growing up altogether. But the harder she tried to hold on to her daughter, the more she pulled away. Instead, Charlotte had given all her love and respect to her father. She was Charlotte’s mother, which should count for more: she was the one who’d given birth to her and spent so many years satisfying all her needs. Then Lennart had just taken over, reaping the fruits of all Lilian’s labors. He had turned Charlotte into a daddy’s girl. After Charlotte moved out and it was just the two of them, he’d started talking about divorce, as if Charlotte had been the only one who counted all those years.

The memory made her throat sting with anger, and she forced herself to smile at Stig. At least he needed her. And so did Niclas, to some extent, though he didn’t know it himself. Charlotte had no idea how good she had it. She was constantly grumbling that her husband never helped out, that he didn’t do his part when it came to the children. Ungrateful, that’s what she was. But Lilian had also begun to feel deeply disappointed with Niclas. Now he came home and snapped at her and talked about moving. But she knew where these whims came from; she just hadn’t expected him to be so easily influenced.

‘You look so stern,’ said Stig, reaching for her hand. She pretended not to notice and instead carefully smoothed out the bedspread.

Stig always took Charlotte’s side, so Lilian couldn’t share her thoughts with him. Instead she said, ‘There’s an awful commotion next door. Police everywhere. This is no fun, let me tell you, having such people living so close.’

Stig sat up with a start. The movement made him grimace and grab his stomach, but his face was filled with hope. ‘It must be about Sara. Do you think they’ve found out anything about Sara?’

Lilian nodded. ‘Probably. Why else would they send out a whole contingent?’

‘It would be a blessing for Charlotte and Niclas if we could have an end to all this.’

‘Yes, and you know how it has been upsetting me too, Stig. Now maybe I can have peace in my soul again.’

She let Stig pat her hand, and his voice was as loving as usual when he said, ‘Of course, darling. You have such a kind heart; this has been a terrible time for you.’ He turned her hand over and kissed her palm.

She waited a second longer before pulling her hand back. Brusquely she pointed out, ‘It’s nice to hear someone worrying about me for a change. Let’s just hope that we’re right, and that they took Kaj away because of Sara.’

‘What else do you think it could be?’ Stig sounded surprised.

‘Well, I don’t know. I didn’t really think about it. But I of all people know what he’s capable of—’

‘When is the funeral?’ Stig interrupted.

Lilian got up from the side of the bed. ‘We’re still waiting to hear when we can get the body back. Probably next week sometime.’

‘Please don’t use the word “body.” It’s our Sara we’re talking about.’

‘She’s actually my grandchild, not yours,’ Lilian snapped.

‘I loved her too, and you know it,’ said Stig gently.

‘Yes, dear, I know. Forgive me. All this is just so hard for me, and nobody seems to understand.’ She wiped away a tear, as Stig looked remorseful.

‘No, no, the fault is mine. That was stupid of me. Can you forgive me, darling?’

‘Of course,’ said Lilian magnanimously. ‘And now I think you should rest and not think so much about all this. I’ll go downstairs and make you a cup of tea. Then maybe you can sleep for a while afterwards.’

‘What have I done to deserve you?’ said Stig to his wife with a smile.

It wasn’t easy for Mellberg to concentrate on work. Not because he had ever prioritized that part of his life, but he usually was able to get at least a little bit done. And he should be focusing more closely on the situation with Ernst. But since last Saturday, his whole world had changed. Back home in his flat, the boy was playing video games, new ones that he’d bought him yesterday. Mellberg had always kept a tight grip on his wallet, and yet he had suddenly felt an irresistible urge to be generous. And video games were clearly what stood at the top of the list for Simon, so video games it would be. Mellberg had bought an Xbox and three games, and even though he’d been shocked at the price, he hadn’t balked.

Because the boy was his, after all. His own son. If he’d had any doubts before, they had been swept aside as soon as he saw Simon step off the train. It was like seeing himself as a young lad. The same well-fed physique, the same strong facial features. The emotions aroused in him were astonishing. Mellberg was still shocked that he was capable of such deep feelings. He had always taken pride in the fact that he didn’t need anyone. Well, besides his mother.

She had always pointed out that it was a sin and a shame that such excellent genes as his weren’t going to be passed on. And there she’d undoubtedly had a point. It was one of the foremost reasons that he wished that his mother could have met this boy. To show her that she was right. All it took was a glance at the child to see that he’d inherited many of his father’s characteristics. The apple certainly didn’t fall far from the tree, although Simon’s mother had said in her letter that he was lazy, unmotivated, and insubordinate, and did miserably in school. But that said more about her child-rearing ability than about the boy. He just needed to spend a little time with his father, a manly role model. It was only a matter of time before he’d make a man out of him.

He did think Simon could at least have said ‘thank you’ when he gave him the video games, but the poor boy was probably so shocked to get anything as a gift that he didn’t know what to say. Lucky that Mellberg was such a good judge of people. It wouldn’t be productive to force anything at this stage; he knew that much about raising children. He had no practical experience in the subject, he had to admit, but how hard could it be? You just needed to use common sense. The boy was a teenager, after all, and people said that was going to be difficult, but in Mellberg’s opinion it was simply a matter of finding the appropriate language in which to communicate. And if there was anyone who knew how to talk to people on their level, it was him. He was convinced that he would have no problem at all.

Voices out in the corridor announced that Patrik and Martin were back. Hopefully with that pedophile jerk in tow. This was one interrogation he intended to participate in, for a change. And this time he was not holding back.

22

Fjällbacka 1928

It began like any other day. The boys had run over to the neighbors’ in the morning, and luckily they had stayed there until evening. The old woman had even felt sorry for the boys and fed them, so Agnes didn’t have to bother fixing lunch, even though it usually only entailed making a couple of open sandwiches. This had put her in such a good mood that she decided to mop the floor. So when evening came, she felt sure of getting some well-earned praise from her husband. Even though she didn’t particularly care what he thought, she still craved attention, and praise was a luxury.

By the time she heard Anders coming up the front steps, Karl and Johan were already asleep, and she was sitting at the kitchen table reading a women’s magazine. She looked up at him distractedly and nodded, but then gave a start. He didn’t look as tired and downhearted as he usually did when he came home; he had a gleam in his eye that she hadn’t seen in a long time. Uneasiness rose inside her.

He sank down on one of the wooden chairs facing her, folded his hands, and rested them on the worn tabletop.

‘Agnes,’ he said, and then stopped. The silence lasted so long that the unpleasantness in her stomach congealed into a lump. He obviously had something on his mind, and if there was anything she had learned in her life, it was that surprises were seldom good.

‘Agnes,’ he said again, ‘I’ve been thinking a lot about our future, and about our family, and I’ve come to the conclusion that we need a change.’

All right, true. So how was he going to change her life for the better?

Anders continued with obvious pride. ‘So that’s why I’ve taken on as much extra work as I could this past year, and I’ve saved us enough money to buy us a one-way ticket.’

‘A ticket? Where to?’ asked Agnes, heart pounding. It annoyed her to think that he had withheld money from her.

‘To America,’ Anders said, grinning with excitement. He clearly expected her to be happy, but instead Agnes felt the shock turn her face numb. What had that idiot gone and done now?

‘America?’ was all she could say.

He nodded eagerly. ‘Yes, we’re leaving next week, and you’d better believe I had to pull some strings to arrange everything. I’ve been in touch with some of the Swedes who went over there from Fjällbacka, and they assured me that there’s plenty of work for someone like me. A man who’s skilled can make himself a good future “over there.”’ This last he said in English with his broad Blekinge accent, evidently proud of the two English words he already knew.