Dark Secrets (52 page)

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Authors: Michael Hjorth

Tags: #Mystery, #Fiction / Thrillers, #Adult, #Thriller

BOOK: Dark Secrets
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She straightened up and realized to her surprise that all her anxiety
had disappeared. The worst thing that could happen had already taken place.

Her guilt was confirmed.

Beyond all doubt.

Now she just felt empty inside. A chill was spreading through her body. As if that cold, concrete inner voice had finally become part of her.

It was her fault. There was no longer any defense against that realization anywhere in her body. No warmth.

A part of Lena died the day Roger was snatched away from her.

The other part died now.

She took out her cell phone and punched in a number. It rang a few times before she heard the male voice on the other end. She heard her own voice. It had the same icy chill as the whole of her insides.

“I saw something at the police station today. I saw your car. I know it was you.”

Chapter Twenty-one

C
IA
E
DLUND
hadn’t had a dog for very long. She had never really thought of herself as a dog person. But on her birthday two years ago Rodolfo had turned up with an adorable, curly-haired puppy. A cocker spaniel bitch. Just like the dog in
Lady and the Tramp
, Rodolfo had said with a big smile, his eyes shining as only his eyes could. It had been impossible for Cia to say no, particularly when Rodolfo, sensing her instinctive hesitation, had promised faithfully that he would help her.

“It won’t just be your dog. It’ll be ours, I promise. Our little baby…”

Things hadn’t quite turned out that way. Six months later, when Rodolfo’s eyes shone less often and his visits were becoming less and less frequent, Cia knew that the dog was her responsibility, and hers alone. In spite of the fact that it had been named after Rodolfo’s grandmother, Lucia Almira, a woman in Chile whom Cia had never met. They had planned to visit her as soon as they could afford it.

That hadn’t happened either. So now Cia shared her bed with an animal named after a Chilean grandmother she was never going to meet.

The practical issues had quickly become her main problem. Cia worked long, irregular hours as a nurse, and Almira’s walks had suffered as a result. Usually it was just a brief outing close to where they lived. She might get one walk in the middle of the night, the next in the afternoon the following day, depending on Cia’s shift pattern. But today Cia had a day off and decided to take the opportunity to go for a really
long walk. It would do both her and Almira good. They headed down the path toward the soccer field, running alongside the forest and the illuminated exercise track.

When they reached the deserted soccer field Cia undid Almira’s leash, and the dog raced off into the undergrowth and the fir trees, barking excitedly. Cia could see Almira’s tail wagging among the short, tangled bushes from time to time. She smiled to herself. For once she felt like a good dog owner.

Almira came hurtling back. She was never away for long; she always wanted to know exactly where her owner was. After making eye contact she would dash off again and, after a little while, come back. Cia frowned as she saw the dog emerge from the undergrowth. There was something dark around Almira’s nose and mouth. Cia called her over, and Almira trotted up to her. Cia stiffened. It looked like blood. But the dog was perfectly happy. It couldn’t be hers. Cia evaded her nuzzling kisses and put her leash back on.

“What have you found? Show me.”

After only fifteen minutes Sebastian was tired of staring at a monitor looking for dark-colored Volvos. This was a master class in futility. Billy had tried to explain what they were going to do. Since they knew when the car Roger had gotten into drove away, they could
blah blah blah
work out approximately where it
blah blah blah
depending on which direction it had taken and
blah blah blah
. Sebastian had switched off. He glanced across at Billy, who was sitting a short distance away with a number of address lists he had just received from the principal’s PA at Palmlövska High. Billy didn’t look bored; he looked grimly determined. He glanced up at Sebastian, who was sitting there completely motionless.

“Is something not working?”

“No, no, it’s working perfectly. How are you getting on?”

Billy smiled at him.

“I’ve hardly started. You carry on. There are plenty of cameras, believe me.”

Billy went back to his papers. Sebastian turned to the screen and sighed. The situation reminded him of the time when he had been a research assistant working with Professor Erlander thirty years ago, and he had been expected to collate the results of several thousand questionnaires. On that occasion he had paid some students to do the job for him and gone to a bar instead. This was a little more tricky.

“Did you get anywhere with that name I gave you? Anna Eriksson?”

“Sorry, I’ve had a few other things to do, but I haven’t forgotten.”

“No rush, I just wondered.”

Sebastian saw Billy was looking at him with an encouraging expression, urging him to get on with the task. Might as well play along; he couldn’t opt out at this early stage. Sebastian pressed
F5
as Billy had shown him and wearily gazed at yet another colorless, boring back street somewhere in Västerås. The call that came in saved him from dying of boredom.

They arrived at the soccer field in two cars, Vanja and Ursula in one, Torkel and Sebastian in the other. Torkel felt as if he were back at school, involved in some variation of boys versus girls. He had remained completely impersonal when Ursula stayed behind after the meeting to catch up on the developments of the past few hours, but she had still ignored him on the way down to the parking lot and headed off toward her car without a word.

Two patrol cars were already on the scene. A uniformed officer met them as they arrived and accompanied them across the graveled area. He looked tense and seemed grateful that they were there.

“Some blood has been found. A lot of blood.”

“Who found it?” Ursula wanted to know. So far it was merely a forensic discovery, and therefore she was naturally the one who asked the questions.

“A lady called Cia Edlund; she was walking her dog. She’s over there.” They crossed the soccer field and followed their uniformed colleague into the forest. After only a short distance the ground fell away steeply, and once you got down to the bottom you were no longer visible from the soccer field, Vanja noticed.

The path curved to the left and soon led to a small opening. Two people were waiting there: an officer who was fixing police tape to cordon off a large, rectangular area and a woman of about twenty-five standing a short distance away with a cocker spaniel.

“That’s the lady who found it. We haven’t asked her too many questions, just as you requested.”

“I’d like to see the blood first,” Ursula replied, walking into the glade.

The officer pointed to a spot a few yards from the path.

“You can see it from here.”

Ursula stopped and gestured to indicate that the others should stay where they were. In front of her she could see last year’s yellow grass lying flat and heavy on the ground. The fresh green blades were growing underneath, but they were shorter and provided only the slightest hint of green among the sea of pale yellow. What did, however, stand out in the limited color palette were patches of dried, dark red blood. In the center of the sporadically scattered patches she saw a large pool of coagulated blood.

“It looks like a slaughterhouse,” the officer who had set up the cordon couldn’t help commenting.

“Perhaps it is,” Ursula said drily. She moved forward cautiously and crouched down in front of the pool. Most of the blood had dried up, but on the ground there were a number of small hollows resembling footprints that were filled with an almost jellylike red substance. Was she imagining it or was there a strong smell of iron in the air? She nodded to the others.

“I’d like to run a quick analysis on this so that we don’t waste time on some poor deer that lost its life. It will take a few minutes.” She
opened her white bag and set to work. Torkel and Sebastian went over to the woman with the dog. She looked as if she’d been waiting for a long time for someone to come and listen to her story.

“It was Almira who found it. I think she might have drunk some of it…”

When Lena walked in through the door of her apartment and closed it behind her, the strain caught up with her. She sank down on the floor of the hallway. She couldn’t walk another step. It was easier to maintain the mask when she was out and about, among other people. Shoulders back, gaze fixed straight ahead, keep on walking. Pretend. At home it was more difficult. Impossible. As she sat there in the middle of the floor amid shoes and plastic bags, she caught sight of an old school photograph of Roger, one she had put up ages ago. It was the first one she had bought, taken when he had just started school.

Roger was smiling at the camera in a blue polo shirt. Two teeth missing. It was a long time since she had seen the picture. She had hung it up when they moved into the apartment, but she had placed it slightly too close to the hat stand, so it ended up being hidden by padded jackets and winter clothes. As Roger grew older he had acquired more and more outdoor clothes that were bigger and bigger, and she had forgotten about the picture for a couple of years. It was wonderful to discover it now. Forgotten and hidden among all those coats and jackets for years. There would be no more clothes piling up to hide him now. He would sit there smiling his gap-toothed smile at her for as long as she lived. Mute. Never growing older. With his expression full of life.

The doorbell rang. Lena ignored it. The world could wait. These moments were more important.

When the man walked in she realized she had forgotten to lock the door. She looked at him. What seemed most strange to her was not the fact that he was standing there in her apartment. Even the desperation in his eyes was not altogether surprising. No, what was making the
whole of her insides tremble was the realization that her eyes, which had just been gazing at the smiling face of her seven-year-old son, were now contemplating the person who took his life.

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