Authors: Camilla Lackberg
Patrik thought about an investigation they’d carried out a few years earlier, and he realized that Leon was right. Bohuslän was close to the Norwegian border, and the white buses had brought former prisoners from the concentration camps to Uddevalla. There were mixed feelings among the people here. Neutrality was a later invention.
‘You seem well informed about Josef’s plans,’ said Patrik.
‘We met him at Café Bryggan the other day.’ Leon reached for his glass of water.
‘Have the five of you who were on the island that day kept in touch?’
Leon put his glass down after taking a long drink. A little water dribbled down his chin, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
‘No. Why would we do that? We split up after the Elvanders disappeared. My father sent me to a school in France. He was rather over-protective. I assume that the other boys were also sent to different schools. As I said, we didn’t have much in common, and we haven’t kept in contact over the years. Although I can only speak for myself, of course. According to Josef, Sebastian has done business both with him and with Percy.’
‘But not with you?’
‘Good Lord, no! I’d rather go diving with white sharks. Which I’ve done, by the way.’
‘Why wouldn’t you want to do business with Sebastian?’ asked Patrik, even though he thought he knew the answer to the question. Sebastian Månsson was notorious in the area, and Patrik’s visit yesterday hadn’t altered his own opinion about the man.
‘If he hasn’t changed, then he’d sell his own mother if it suited him.’
‘Aren’t the others aware of that? Why would they agree to do business with him?’
‘I really can’t say. You’ll have to ask them.’
‘Do you have any theories as to what happened to the Elvander family?’ asked Gösta.
Patrik cast a glance towards the living room. Ia had finished her lunch and the plate was still on the table, but she was nowhere in sight.
‘No.’ Leon shook his head. ‘Naturally I’ve given it a lot of thought, but I can’t for the life of me understand who would have wanted to murder them. It must have been burglars or some crazy person. Like Charles Manson and his gang.’
‘If so, they were awfully lucky to arrive just when you boys happened to be out fishing,’ said Gösta drily.
Patrik tried to catch his attention. This was a preliminary conversation, not an interrogation. It would serve no purpose to antagonize Leon.
‘I can’t think of any other explanation.’ Leon threw out his hands. ‘Maybe something in Rune’s past finally caught up with him. Maybe somebody had been watching the house and saw us leave. Because it was the Easter holiday, there were only five of us to worry about. During the school term there would have been considerably more students present, so it was an opportune moment if somebody intended to get at the family.’
‘And there was no one at the school who might have wished to harm them? Did you notice anything suspicious before they disappeared? Strange noises in the night, for instance?’ said Gösta, and Patrik gave him a puzzled look.
‘Not that I recall.’ Leon frowned. ‘Everything was perfectly normal.’
‘Could you tell us a bit about the family?’ Patrik swatted away a wasp that was stubbornly buzzing in front of his face.
‘Rune ruled them with an iron fist, or at least that was his intention. He was strangely blind to the shortcomings of his own children. Especially the two older ones: Claes and Annelie.’
‘What sort of things did Rune fail to see when it came to those two? It sounds as though you have something specific in mind.’
Leon’s expression went blank. ‘Not really. They were both insufferable – as most teenagers are. Claes liked to bully the weaker students behind Rune’s back. As for Annelie …’ He seemed to be considering how best to phrase it. ‘If she’d been a little older, you probably would have called her man-crazy.’
‘What about Rune’s wife, Inez? How were things for her?’
‘I don’t think she had an easy time of it. She was expected to manage the entire household and take care of Ebba. She also had to put up with all sorts of mischief from Claes and Annelie. Inez would spend the day slaving over the laundry, only to find it scattered on the ground. She would spend hours making stew, then find it burned because someone had turned up the heat on the stove. That sort of thing was forever going on, but Inez never complained. She knew that it would do no good to raise the matter with Rune.’
‘Couldn’t you boys have helped her?’ asked Gösta.
‘Unfortunately, none of us ever saw who did those things. It was easy enough to guess who was to blame, but there was no proof to take to Rune.’ He gave the two police officers an enquiring look. ‘How does it help the investigation to know about relationships between the family members?’
Patrik paused before answering. The truth was he had a gut feeling that the key to what had happened lay in the relationships between the people living on the island. He had no faith in the notion of a bloodthirsty gang of burglars. What was there to steal?
‘Why did the five of you stay at the school during the Easter holiday?’ he asked, opting to ignore Leon’s question.
‘Percy, John and I were there because our parents were travelling. In Sebastian’s case, he was not there by choice. He’d been caught doing something or other, and was forced to stay. Poor Josef was there to get some extra tutoring. His parents didn’t see why he should have a holiday, so they paid Rune to give their son private instruction during the break.’
‘It sounds as if there were ample reasons for the five of you to quarrel.’
‘Why’s that?’ Leon looked Patrik in the eye.
But it was Gösta who answered.
‘Four of you were the sons of wealthy fathers. You were used to getting whatever you wanted. I can imagine that would have led to a good deal of competition. Josef, for his part, came from an entirely different background, plus he was a Jew.’ Gösta paused. ‘And we all know what John’s views are.’
‘John wasn’t like that back then,’ said Leon. ‘It’s true his father wasn’t best pleased that John was attending school with a Jewish boy, but ironically those two boys were close friends.’
Patrik nodded. For a moment he wondered what had made John change. Had he been infected by his father’s opinions as he grew older? Or was there some other explanation?
‘What about the others? How would you describe them?’
Leon didn’t respond immediately. As if in need of time to consider, he stretched his muscles and turned to call towards the living room, ‘Ia? Are you there? Could you make us some coffee?’ Then he settled back into his wheelchair.
‘Percy is a Swedish aristocrat, through and through. He was pampered and spoiled, but he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He’d had it drummed into him that he was superior to other people, and he liked to talk about battles that his ancestors had fought, but Percy was scared of his own shadow. And Sebastian, as I said, was always on the lookout for a good business deal. He actually carried on quite a lucrative trade out there on the island. No one knew how he managed it, but I think he paid local fishermen to deliver goods, which he then sold for exorbitant prices. Chocolate, cigarettes, soft drinks, and porn magazines. On a few occasions he even sold booze, but he stopped after Rune almost caught him at it.’
Ia came out carrying a tray and set the coffee cups on the table. She didn’t seem comfortable in the role of attentive wife.
‘I hope the coffee is all right. I don’t really know how to work those machines.’
‘I’m sure it’s fine,’ said Leon. ‘Ia isn’t used to living such a spartan existence. Back home in Monaco we have staff to make us coffee, so this is a bit of an adjustment for her.’
Patrik didn’t know whether he imagined it, but he thought there was a hint of animosity in Leon’s voice. Then it was gone, and Leon was again the amiable host.
‘I learned to live very simply during my summers on Kalvö. In the city we had every imaginable comfort. But out there,’ he gazed across the water, ‘Pappa would hang up his suit and put on shorts and a T-shirt. We would go fishing and pick wild strawberries and swim. Simple pleasures.’
He stopped talking as Ia reappeared to serve the coffee.
‘But you haven’t exactly lived a simple life since then,’ said Gösta, sipping his coffee.
‘Touché,’ said Leon. ‘No, there hasn’t been much of that sort of thing. I was more attracted to adventures than to quiet places.’
‘Is it the kick you get out of it that’s so appealing?’ asked Patrik.
‘That’s a rather simplistic way of describing it, but I suppose you could call it a kick. I suppose it must be a little like narcotics, though I’ve never polluted my body with drugs. Certainly, it’s addictive. Once you start, you don’t want to stop. You lie awake at night wondering: Can I climb higher? How deep can I dive? How fast can I drive? Those are questions that eventually require an answer.’
‘But now that’s all over,’ Gösta said.
Patrik wondered why he’d never ordered Gösta and Mellberg to attend an intensive course in interrogation techniques, but Leon didn’t seem offended.
‘Yes, now it’s over.’
‘How did the accident happen?’
‘It was a perfectly ordinary car accident. Ia was driving, and as I’m sure you’re aware, the roads in Monaco are narrow and winding, and in places very steep. There was an oncoming vehicle, Ia swerved too hard, and we ran off the road. The car caught fire.’ His tone was no longer so nonchalant, and he was staring straight ahead, as if he was seeing it all happen again. ‘Do you have any idea how rare it is for a car to catch fire? It’s not like in the movies, where cars explode as soon as they crash. We were unlucky. Ia was more or less okay, but my legs were wedged tight, and I couldn’t get out. I could feel my hands and legs and clothes burning. Then my face. After that I lost consciousness, but Ia pulled me out of the car. That was how her hands got injured. Aside from that, she miraculously suffered only a few cuts and two broken ribs. She saved my life.’
‘When did this happen?’ asked Patrik.
‘Nine years ago.’
‘There’s no possibility that you might …’ Gösta nodded at the wheelchair.
‘No. I’m paralysed from the waist down. I’m grateful that I can even breathe unaided.’ He sighed. ‘One side effect is that I tire easily, and I usually rest for a while at this time of day. Is there anything else I can help you with? If not, I hope you won’t think me rude if I ask you to leave.’
Patrik and Gösta exchanged glances. Then Patrik stood up.
‘That’s all we have for the moment, but we may have occasion to come back to see you again.’
‘You’re welcome to do so.’ Propelling his wheelchair ahead of them, Leon went into the house.
Ia came downstairs and in an elegant farewell gesture, offered her hand to shake.
As they were stepping outside, Gösta turned to speak to Ia, who seemed eager to close the door after them.
‘It’d be good to have the address and phone number for your house on the Riviera.’
‘You mean in case we decide to leave town?’ She gave them a weak smile.
Gösta merely shrugged in reply. Ia went to the hall table and wrote down the address and phone number on a notepad. Then she tore off the page and handed it to Gösta, who stuffed it in his pocket without comment.
When they were sitting in the car, Gösta tried to discuss their meeting with Leon, but Patrik was barely paying attention. He was too busy searching for his phone.
‘I must have left my mobile at home,’ he said at last. ‘Can I borrow yours?’
‘Sorry. You always have your phone with you, so I didn’t bother to bring mine.’
Patrik considered delivering a lecture on why it was important for police officers always to carry a phone, but he realized now wasn’t exactly the best time. He turned the key in the ignition.
‘We’ll drive past my house on the way back. I need to pick up my mobile.’
They were both silent for the few minutes that it took them to reach Sälvik. Patrik couldn’t shake off the feeling that they’d overlooked some important detail during their talk with Leon. He wasn’t sure whether it had been provoked by anything specific, but he had a strong sense that something wasn’t right.
Kjell was looking forward to lunch. Carina had to work in the evening, so she’d phoned to ask whether they could have lunch together at home. It was hard to find time to see each other when one person worked shifts and the other kept normal office hours. If she had several late shifts in a row, days might pass before they saw one another. But Kjell was proud of her. She worked so hard. During the years they were separated, she had supported herself and their son without complaint. Afterwards he discovered that she’d had problems with alcohol, but she’d managed to pull herself out of it all on her own. Oddly enough, it was his father Frans who had persuaded her to do that. One of the few good things he ever did, thought Kjell with a mixture of bitterness and reluctant affection.
Beata, on the other hand … She preferred not to do any work if she could help it. When they were living together, they’d had constant arguments about money. She grumbled about the fact that he wasn’t getting promotions so that he could earn a manager’s salary, while she did little to contribute to their finances. ‘I take care of the household,’ she would always say.
He parked in the driveway, trying to bring his breathing under control. He was still filled with revulsion every time he thought about his ex-wife Beata. It was made worse by the contempt he felt for himself. How could he have wasted so many years on her? Of course he didn’t regret having the children, but he did regret allowing himself to be duped. She had been sweet and young, while he had been much older and easily flattered.
He got out of the car, shaking off all thought of Beata. He refused to allow anything to ruin his lunch with Carina.
‘Hi, sweetheart,’ she said when he came in. ‘Sit down. The food is ready. I’ve made potato pancakes.’
She set a plate on the table in front of him, and he leaned over to breathe in the aroma. He loved potato pancakes.
‘How’s it going at work?’ she asked as she sat down across from him.