Detective Inspector Huss: A Huss Investigation set in Sweden, Vol. 1 (61 page)

She fell silent and started breathing harder. Unseeing, her eyes gazed straight ahead; her voice seemed to come from a long way off when she continued, “I deliberately went to see Richard very late. He would be more rushed then, I thought. Clever. I was very clever. I parked by Ascheberg High School. Since all the front door keys fit all four doors in the building, I went in on the Kapellgatan side, walked across the courtyard, and went in through the courtyard door. Then I took the elevator up and opened the door to the apartment. I didn’t have gloves on. That’s why I wiped off everything with a rag when I left . . . later . . . after . . . Then I threw the rag and the vacuum cleaner bag in a trash can in the garbage room. I watch TV, after all. It’s important not to leave any traces. I went back the same way across the courtyard. You didn’t find a thing!”

Triumph shone in her turquoise eyes. Eagerly, as if to reveal how clever she had been, with her words practically falling over each other, she turned to Irene and continued her story. “He didn’t hear a sound when I opened the front door. I went through the kitchen and took a little meat cleaver that was hanging over the stove. I stuffed it under my trench coat. I went upstairs and there lay Richard on the sofa, resting after a sauna. He was pretty drunk. He jumped up, nervous as hell because of the time. Sylvia would arrive any minute. He ran off to get the envelope with the money. When he came back and gave it to me, I said, ‘Come on, you have to see my new car! It’s parked right under the balcony. It looks really great in the light from the display window.’ At first he didn’t want to. But at the same time he wanted to get rid of me before Sylvia came home. So he went out onto the balcony with me. He leaned over the railing so he could see the car. I whacked him on the back of the neck as hard as I could and shoved him over!”

She showed not a trace of regret or remorse. Nothing but pure triumph.

Cautiously, Irene asked, “He had a cut on the back of his hand. How did he get that?”

“That wimp was afraid of heights. He was holding on with one hand. I had to give it a whack so he’d let go.”

She began to laugh. A hysterical giggle that grew into a howl.

“Charlotte, one more thing. The sandwiches in the refrigerator. Were you the one who took them?”

“Yes. I was hungry afterward. So I took them with me and ate them at home. You get hungry all the time when you’re pregnant.”

“MAMMA! WHERE’S THE LUCIA crown? Guess who was chosen Lucia by our class? They picked me. Super to have a bald Lucia, they thought. Do you know where we put the crown last year?”

“Wasn’t that the one that short-circuited?”

“No, that was Katarina’s electric light candleholder. Do you think I need to shave my head again? I mean, the point is that I’m bald, after all.”

“No. Dear Jenny. No!”

“Damn, you’re grumpy when you get home from work. You’re always so tired and useless.”

Annoyed, Jenny slammed the door to her room. Irene sighed and looked up at the closed door on the second floor. Jenny was right. She was always tired and useless when she came home. She had to be sharp and energetic when she was at work. There were no reserves to call on when she was home with her family.

Jenny opened her door a crack. “Maybe you’ll be in a better mood after you open the package in the living room. It came by delivery van a while ago. And you could say congratulations to me. Not even Katarina has ever been Lucia for the whole class!”

“Congratulations, sweetie.”

She spoke to a door that was already closed. With a sigh she went into the living room. The thought occurred to her:
Could be a bomb.
After all, she had screwed things up for the Hell’s Angels, and she knew what they were capable of. The package was big and flat. Sent by Mona Söder, Stockholm. She took down the framed Miró print from the wall.

 

TWO BIG yellow butterflies with black markings on their wings hovered over a vast landscape, a shimmering stream in the valley and blue-tinged mountains in the distance. In the foreground there were beautiful meadow blossoms. The blue of the forget-me-nots was dominant, but there were also splashes of white and pink flowers that she recognized but couldn’t name. They came so close to the observer that it felt as if she were lying on her stomach among the meadow flowers and peeking over the edge down into the long valley, up toward the two gaudy butterflies. The sky was not blue, but a silvery white circle above the mountains dispersed a strong light that became a warm pink at the outer edges. It was not the sun and not the moon. It was the Light.