Buried Angels (4 page)

Erling W. Larson nodded. After the scandal over the renovation of the Badhotel in Fjällbacka, he’d found himself out in the cold for a while, but now he was once again involved in local politics. This sort of project would show that he was still a force to be reckoned with, and Josef hoped that Erling would realize this.

‘We think it sounds interesting,’ said Erling. ‘Could you tell us more about how you envision the whole thing?’

Sebastian took in a breath as he prepared to speak, but Josef beat him to it.

‘This is a little piece of history,’ he said, holding out the stone. ‘Albert Speer purchased granite from the quarry in Bohuslän for the German Reich. He and Hitler had grandiose plans to transform Berlin into the world capital of “Germania”, and the granite was supposed to be shipped to Germany for use in construction.’

Josef stood up and began pacing back and forth as he talked. In his mind he heard the stomping boots of German soldiers. The sound that his parents had so often told him about in horror.

‘But then the war turned,’ he went on. ‘Germania never evolved beyond a model that Hitler fantasized about during his last days. An unfulfilled dream, a vision of stately monuments and edifices that would have been built at the cost of millions of Jewish lives.’

‘How awful,’ said Erling, showing little concern.

‘The shiploads of granite never left Tanum—’

‘And that’s where we come in,’ Sebastian interrupted Josef. ‘We were thinking that from that granite we could make peace symbols that could then be sold. It would bring in a lot of money, provided it’s done properly.’

‘And we could then use the money to build a museum devoted to Jewish history and Sweden’s relationship to Judaism. Including our purported neutral position during the war,’ Josef added.

He sat down, and Sebastian put his arm around his shoulders. Josef had to stop himself from shaking off his arm. Instead he mustered a strained smile. He felt just as phoney as he had during those days on Valö. Even back then he’d had nothing in common with Sebastian or his other so-called friends. No matter how hard he tried, he knew he’d never be able to enter the upper-class world that John and Leon and Percy came from. Nor did he want to.

But right now he needed Sebastian. It was his only hope of realizing the dream he’d had for so many years: to pay homage to his Jewish heritage and make public what he knew about the assaults that had been carried out, and were still being levelled against the Jewish people. If that meant he had to sign a pact with the devil, then he’d do it. He hoped that over time he’d be able to end his association with Sebastian.

‘As my partner here was saying,’ Sebastian continued, ‘it’ll be a really great museum, and a pilgrimage destination for tourists from all over the world. And all of you will get the credit for backing this project.’

‘Doesn’t sound half bad,’ said Erling. ‘What do you think?’ He turned to Uno Brorsson, his second-in-command on the council, who in spite of the heat was wearing a checked flannel shirt.

‘It might be something worth considering,’ muttered Uno. ‘But it depends how much we’re expected to contribute. Times are hard.’

Sebastian gave him a big smile. ‘I’m sure we can reach an agreement. The main thing is that there’s enough interest to move forward. I’m personally investing a large sum in the project.’

Right. But you’re not about to tell them what your terms are, thought Josef. He clenched his jaw. All he could do was silently go along with whatever was offered and keep his eye on the goal. He leaned forward to shake hands with Erling. Now there was no turning back.

A small scar on her forehead, scars on her body and a slight limp were the only visible traces of the accident eighteen months ago. The accident when she lost the baby that she and Dan were expecting, and when she herself almost died.

Inside, it was a different matter. Anna was still feeling broken.

She hesitated a moment at the front door. Sometimes it was hard to be with Erica and see how everything had worked out for her. Her sister bore no scars from what had happened, and she had lost nothing. Yet it also did Anna good to see her. The wounds inside Anna twinged and ached, but the time she spent with Erica somehow helped them heal.

It was probably just as well that Anna hadn’t realized how long the healing process would drag on. If she’d had any clue, she might never have emerged from the automatonlike state she’d landed in after her life shattered into a thousand pieces. Recently she’d joked to Erica that she was like one of the old vases she used to handle when she worked for an auction house. A vase that had fallen to the floor and broken, then been laboriously glued back together. From a distance it appeared whole, but as you got closer, the cracks became painfully obvious. But as Anna rang Erica’s doorbell, she realized it wasn’t really a joke. That was her situation now. She was a broken vase.

‘Come in!’ shouted Erica from somewhere inside the house.

Anna went in and kicked off her shoes.

‘I’ll be right there. I just have to change the twins’ nappies.’

Anna went into the kitchen, which was so familiar to her. This house had belonged to their parents, and she knew every nook and cranny of it. Several years ago the house had prompted a quarrel between the two sisters that had almost destroyed their relationship, but that was in a different time, a different world. These days they could laugh about it and talk about ‘LWL’ and ‘LAL’ – ‘Life With Lucas’ and ‘Life After Lucas’. Anna shuddered. She had vowed to think as little as possible about her ex-husband Lucas and what he’d done. He was gone now. All that remained were the only good things he’d ever given her: the children, Emma and Adrian.

‘Want something to eat?’ asked Erica as she entered the kitchen, carrying a twin on each hip. The boys’ faces lit up when they saw their aunt. When Erica set them down on the floor, they ran towards Anna and tried to climb into her lap.

‘Take it easy, there’s plenty of room for both of you.’ Anna lifted the boys up and then looked at Erica. ‘That depends on what you’ve got.’ She craned her neck to see what Erica had to offer.

‘How about Grandma’s rhubarb cake with marzipan?’ Erica held out a cake covered with cling wrap.

‘Are you kidding? Who could say no to that?’

Erica cut two big slices of cake and put them on a platter that she set on the table. Noel immediately launched himself towards the platter, but Anna managed to pull him back just in time. She broke off a little chunk of cake for each of the twins. Noel happily stuffed the whole piece in his mouth while Anton carefully nibbled at one corner as he gave her a big smile.

‘They’re so different,’ said Anna, ruffling the hair of the two towheaded boys.

‘You reckon?’ said Erica sarcastically, shaking her head.

She poured the coffee and set Anna’s cup down, making sure, as usual, that it was out of the twins’ reach.

‘Are you doing okay, or should I take one of them?’ she asked, noticing that Anna was trying to juggle the children, the coffee cup and the cake all at once.

‘No, I’m fine. It’s lovely to hold them close.’ Anna nuzzled the top of Noel’s head. ‘So where’s Maja?’

‘She’s glued to the TV. Her new great love in life is Mojje. At the moment she’s watching “Mimmi and Mojje in the Caribbean”. I think I’m going to puke if I have to listen to “On a Lovely Caribbean Beach” one more time.’

‘Adrian is obsessed with Pokemon right now, and it’s driving me crazy too.’ Anna cautiously sipped her coffee, afraid of spilling it on the squirming eighteen-month-old toddlers sitting on her lap. ‘What about Patrik?’

‘He’s at work. Suspected arson out on Valö.’

‘Valö? Whose house?’

Erica hesitated before answering. ‘The summer camp,’ she said, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.

‘Oh, how awful. It always gives me the creeps when I think about that place and the way they disappeared into thin air.’

‘I know. I’ve tried to do a little research about it, off and on. I thought I could turn the story into a book if I found out anything. But there’s been nothing much to go on. Until now.’

‘What do you mean?’ Anna took a big bite of rhubarb cake. She’d also been given her grandmother’s recipe, but she rarely baked. Practically never, in fact.

‘She’s back.’

‘Who?’

‘Ebba Elvander. Although her last name is Stark now.’

‘You mean that little girl?’ Anna stared at Erica.

‘Exactly. She and her husband have moved to Valö, and apparently they’ve started renovating the place. And last night somebody tried to burn it down. That makes me wonder.’ Erica had given up trying to hide her enthusiasm.

‘Couldn’t it be a coincidence?’

‘Of course it could. But I still think it’s odd. The fact that Ebba comes back and suddenly things start to happen.’

‘Only
one
thing has happened,’ Anna pointed out. She knew how quickly Erica’s imagination could jump to conclusions. How her sister had ever managed to write a series of carefully researched and substantiated books seemed both a miracle and a mystery to Anna.

‘Okay, okay. One thing,’ said Erica, waving her hand dismissively. ‘I can hardly wait until Patrik comes home. Actually, I wanted to go with him, but I didn’t have anyone to take care of the children.’

‘Don’t you think it would have seemed a bit strange for you to show up with Patrik?’

By now Anton and Noel had grown tired of sitting on Anna’s lap. They climbed down on to the floor and dashed off to the living room.

‘Well, I was thinking of going out there to talk to Ebba one of these days,’ said Erica, refilling their coffee cups.

‘I can’t help wondering what happened to that family,’ said Anna pensively.

‘Mammmmaaaaa! Get them out of here!’ Maja cried shrilly from the living room. Erica got up with a sigh.

‘I knew it was too good to be true. This is what happens all day long. Maja is forever getting cross with her brothers. You have no idea how many times I have to intervene each day.’

‘Hmm …’ said Anna, watching Erica as she hurried out of the room. She felt a pang in her heart. Personally she could have done with a little less peace and quiet.

Fjällbacka had never looked better. From the dock outside the boathouse where he sat with his wife and in-laws, John had a view of the entire harbour entrance. The glorious weather had enticed more sailing enthusiasts and tourists than usual, and scores of boats were moored close together along the pontoon dock. He could hear music and laughter coming from inside the vessels, and he was surveying the lively scene as he squinted into the sunlight.

‘It’s too bad that debate is at such a low level in Sweden today.’ John raised his wine glass and took a sip of the nicely chilled rosé. ‘People pay lip service to democracy and say that everyone has the right to be heard, but we’re not allowed to express our views. It’s as if we don’t exist. What everybody forgets is that we were elected by the people. A sufficient number of Swedes showed that they harbour a deep mistrust of the way things are being handled. They want change, and we’ve promised them that change.’

He set his glass down and went back to peeling shrimp. A big plate of unpeeled shrimp was still awaiting his attention.

‘I know. It’s terrible,’ said his father-in-law, reaching for the bowl of shrimp and grabbing a handful. ‘If this is truly a democracy, we need to listen to the people.’

‘And everybody knows that lots of immigrants come here purely to take advantage of the social benefits,’ interjected his mother-in-law. ‘It would be fine if all these foreigners were prepared to work and contribute to society. But I have no desire to see my tax money used to support those parasites.’ She had already begun to slur her words.

John sighed. What idiots. They had no idea what they were talking about. It was the same with most voters: they were nothing but sheep, oversimplifying the problem, unable to see the big picture. His in-laws personified the ignorance that he loathed, and here he sat, stuck with them for a whole week.

Liv stroked his thigh in an attempt to calm him. She knew what he thought about them, and she mostly agreed. But Barbro and Kent were still her parents, and there wasn’t much she could do about that.

‘The worst part is the way they’re moving into all areas these days,’ said Barbro. ‘A family just moved into our neighbourhood, and the mother is Swedish, but the father is an Arab. I can’t begin to imagine how awful it must be for that poor woman, the way Arabs treat their wives. And I’m sure the children will be bullied in school. Then they’ll get in trouble with the police, and she’ll end up regretting that she didn’t marry a Swedish boy instead.’

‘You can say that again,’ said Kent, attempting to take a bite of a huge shrimp sandwich.

‘Can’t you let John have a rest from politics for a while?’ said Liv, her tone mildly reproachful. ‘He spends enough time discussing the immigrant issue in Stockholm, day in and day out. He deserves a break when he’s over here.’

John gave her a grateful look as he paused to admire his wife. She was perfect. Silky blonde hair swept back from her face. Classic features and clear blue eyes.

‘Sorry, sweetheart. We weren’t thinking. We’re just so proud of what John is doing, and the position that he has achieved. All right, let’s talk about something else. How’s it going with your little business, by the way?’

Liv eagerly began recounting all the difficulties she’d been having with the customs department, which seemed determined to complicate her business affairs. She was constantly dealing with setbacks to deliveries of the home furnishings that she imported from France and then sold through her online shop. But John knew that her interest in the shop had been dwindling. She was devoting more and more time to party politics. Everything else seemed unimportant in comparison.

The seagulls were hovering lower over the dock, and he stood up.

‘I suggest we clear things away. Those birds are getting a little too close for comfort.’ He picked up his plate, walked out to the end of the dock, and tossed the shrimp peelings into the sea. The gulls swooped down to catch as many as possible. The crabs would take care of the rest.