The Key (65 page)

‘May I leave now?’ she asks.

‘Of course,’ he says. ‘We’ll meet up again for the assessment.’

She leaves through the double doors.

Sigrid is waiting for her. Henry dashes around her feet doing figures of eight.

‘What did Walter say?’ she asks.

‘Nothing special,’ Minoo says, and keeps walking.

‘It was awful, what he did to Felix,’ Sigrid whispers as she follows Minoo.

Minoo stops and turns to her. ‘I thought we were going to raise the issue together,’ she says.

From the corner of her eye, she notices Henry shooting off and disappearing like a shadow around a corner.

‘I tried,’ Sigrid says. ‘That’s why I said maybe we should replace Felix. Then he wouldn’t have to put up with Walter being so mean to him all the time.’

Minoo decides there and then never to trust Sigrid again.

‘I’m going to rest a while,’ she says, and walks away, ignoring Sigrid who is calling after her.

Diana casts a sidelong glance at Linnéa as she drives into the large parking lot in front of the Västmanland magistrates’ court in Västerås. It is a large, square building of light concrete and glass, with a wide set of steps leading to the front doors. Already, people are waiting on the steps. Many of them are likely to be journalists. On the way, Linnéa has seen the newspaper posters.

THE CASE THAT DIVIDES A TOWN – COURT HEARING TODAY

She is trembling. She would like to take one of the tranquillisers she has brought in her handbag, but doesn’t dare. What if the court concludes that she is too calm and too disengaged to be believed?

‘Don’t be afraid to show your emotions,’ Ludvig has told her. ‘It does no harm if you burst into tears. Not at all. But whatever you do, Linnéa, don’t lose your temper. Erik’s solicitor will try to provoke you into showing aggression. Don’t let him.’

‘We’ll go in when you’re ready,’ Diana says.

It’s the first words she has said since they left Engelsfors. She must have understood that Linnéa didn’t want to talk.

‘I need a cigarette first,’ Linnéa says.

The packet is ready in her hand when she and Diana get out of the car.

Linnéa’s first drag on the cigarette is so deep her throat hurts. The car park looks out onto a mustard yellow factory building with tall chimneys and she can hear the loudspeakers at Västerås central station.

‘Linnéa?’ says a voice. She turns around.

A woman comes walking briskly towards her. She has blonde, coarse hair and seems vaguely familiar, but Linnéa can’t place her.

Something about the woman’s face, together with her almost maniacally alert eyes, makes Linnéa think of some kind of rodent that has spotted a tasty piece of cheese.

‘My name is Cissi Larsson.’

Linnéa blows out smoke. She doesn’t answer. So this is Cissi; she was an intern at the
Engelsfors Herald
who went on to make a name for herself by using the town’s series of spectacular tragedies.

‘I’m here to report on the hearing,’ Cissi continues. ‘Naturally, I’d appreciate a chat with you. Get your angle on the case and so forth.’

‘I’m not interested,’ Linnéa says.

‘Would you please leave her alone?’ Diana says.

‘Erik Forslund claims that he was in the PE Centre that whole evening,’ Cissi says. ‘I believe the police have examined the mobile phone records and say that the boys’ mobiles were in the centre all that time. What’s your comment to that?’

‘I guess they forgot their phones,’ Linnéa says. She throws her cigarette away. ‘Or they left them there on purpose.’

‘The question seems to make you uncomfortable,’ Cissi says.

Linnéa picks up Cissi’s thoughts. They match the intensely alert look in her eyes.

Cissi has talked to Nicke. It didn’t take her long to get him to talk about the police investigation. Cissi flattered him, made him feel important and, of course, he also felt bitter about the reprimands he received for his handling of the case:
One thing I can tell you is that Linnéa Wallin is a pathological liar
.

Cissi wants to believe him. Erik being guilty is too predictable for her taste. A conspiracy or mystery to solve is much more interesting. A conspiracy driven by Linnéa would be just the thing. Cissi wants that very much.

‘According to eyewitnesses, you were celebrating on Olsson’s Hill on the evening of Erik Forslund’s arrest,’ Cissi says. ‘Are you pleased that he has been in prison for over three months? Do you know what it’s like to be locked up like that?’

‘Go to hell, you repulsive fucking vulture,’ Linnéa says.

As soon as the words pass her lips, fear contracts her stomach.

But whatever you do, Linnéa, don’t lose your temper
.

‘Let’s go, Linnéa,’ Diana says, takeing her arm and walking her towards the court building.

‘Some people believe you’re out to frame Erik!’ Cissi shouts.

‘Don’t listen to her,’ Diana says quietly. ‘She isn’t the judge.’

The glass panes above the front doors reflect the blue skies and the slowly drifting little clouds. Linnéa spots a TV camera among the small crowd on the steps.

Ludvig almost runs out to meet them. He is in his mid-thirties, wears a suit and has combed his blond hair straight back from his forehead.

‘Hello, Linnéa,’ he says. ‘Unfortunately, there are quite a few people here but Diana and I will be with you all the time. You don’t have to answer any questions or even look at anyone. All right?’

Linnéa nods and takes Diana’s hand, wishing that it was Vanessa’s. Ludvig moves in to cover her other side. Cameras start clicking as the three of them walk up the steps. A journalist holds out a microphone and tries to block their passage, but Ludvig firmly moves him to the side.

Together, they enter the building. The moment she sees the number of people inside, Linnéa lowers her eyes. She tries to ignore their voices, but their thoughts, charged with anger, excitement and curiosity, are harder to shut out.

… does she really believe that anyone will take her word for anything … know her type, fucking man-hater … shit, if I don’t get an interview with her they’ll never give me a permanent post … she actually looks quite hot when she’s dressed normally …

They pass through security but Linnéa is barely aware of what’s going on. When she is given back her handbag after passing the metal detector, she suddenly sees a triumphant-looking Felicia, whose eyes follow her. She stands in a group with Robin’s parents and his brother. Their eyes are full of pure hatred.

She hasn’t a hope
…

Then, Linnéa catches a glimpse of Erik’s representative, the well-known lawyer. He is giving an interview to a reporter from a radio channel, who keeps nodding as if he agrees with everything he hears in his large headphones.

Tindra stands a little further along, but hers is the only friendly face Linnéa sees. All the rest belong to enemies. Enemies everywhere.

Linnéa lowers her eyes again and allows Diana and Ludvig to escort her. All her energy is consumed by trying to shut everything out. Her every instinct urges her to get away from here, at once. Her grip on Diana’s hand tightens.

They lead her into a small room, barely wider than the green sofa that is the main piece of furniture. Diana sits down next to her. Ludvig shuts the door, cutting out the murmur of voices from outside. Linnéa dares to look up now and sees a silver-haired man with glasses standing in front of her.

‘Hello, Linnéa,’ he says, holding out his hand. ‘I’m Hans-Peter Ramström. We have talked on the phone.’

Linnéa presses his hand and says ‘hello’ quietly.

‘I understand how trying this time must have been for you.’ He smiles comfortingly. ‘And I can’t pretend that today will be easy.’

His calm voice is full of authority.

‘Of course it won’t,’ Ludvig says. ‘Only remember what we’ve talked about.’

‘Not angry, only sad,’ Linnéa mumbles.

She listens as they talk about the hearing and the possibility of a new statement by Robin.

And now Linnéa regrets that she forced Anna-Karin to promise. If she hadn’t, there wouldn’t be any new statements by Robin. But it would have been selfish. It would have been wrong. Besides, she never believed she would win this case.

Linnéa wishes she could cling to a hope of some kind, however slight. She wishes that she had Vanessa with her now.

But most of all, she wishes that she was someone else. Anyone other than Linnéa Wallin.

* * *

When Minoo comes into her room, she is struck by how stale the air is. She doesn’t know if she is imagining the smell of alcohol or not.

She opens the window to let the fresh, cold air in. She knows she should try to sleep for a while but doesn’t think she’ll be able to. Instead, she makes the bed, sits down on it and takes the key from her pocket. For a while, she stares at it.

The throbbing backdrop of her hangover is making it difficult to think clearly. But she doesn’t need to think, she needs to act. And she will, while Sigrid has her assessment.

A knock on the door. Minoo pockets the key.

‘Come in.’

The door opens and the draught makes the thin curtains flap. Clara quickly closes the door behind her.

‘Hi, Clara.’

‘Hello, Minoo.’

Clara sits down on the edge of the bed next to Minoo. Kicks off her slippers and crosses her legs underneath her. Minoo wonders why she is here.

‘So, you’ve been checking up on us?’ Clara says.

‘Not in the way Walter made it sound,’ Minoo says. ‘I didn’t spy on you like that. Or, I guess I did …’

‘Relax,’ Clara says with an ironic little smile. ‘I’ve no right to be judgemental about spying.’ Then her smile fades completely. ‘And I know what Walter is like.’

Minoo doesn’t dare to ask what she means. She isn’t sure if she can trust Clara when it concerns Walter – she doesn’t even trust herself entirely.

‘I despise him,’ Clara says quietly.

Minoo feels that eyes and ears might lurk among red clover flowers on the wall; that the whole house is observing them.

‘And I hate the way I act when I’m with him,’ Clara continues. ‘How we all act.’

‘Me too.’

Minoo is so relieved to get this out in the open, but at the same time she is terrified that she might have said too much.

Clara traces the seam on her jeans with her finger. Her profile is timelessly beautiful, as if on a statue. Her skin looks almost transparent. Once again, Minoo is reminded of the pale, fragile women idolised by the Pre-Raphaelites.

‘How are you?’ she asks.

Clara looks irritated.

‘Are you going to nag me as well? Has Viktor put you up to this?’

Minoo says nothing. Clara’s face softens.

‘Sorry,’ she sighs. ‘It’s just that I get so fed up with being watched over. It’s nice of you. But I’m fine. Truly.’

‘Good,’ Minoo says.

‘Besides, I don’t think I’m the one who’s the most worn out today,’ Clara says with a smile that makes her look more like Viktor than ever. ‘You look absolutely knackered. You probably needed a rest. I know I do.’

They sit in silence for a while. A dog barks somewhere outside.

‘I hope the court hearing goes all right,’ Clara says. ‘Those bastards need to pay. But Erik will never confess. I had no illusions about trying to appeal to
his
conscience. He doesn’t have one.’

Minoo agrees. She remembers what it was like to be inside Erik’s mind.

‘You’d be amazed about the things I imagined doing to them,’ Clara says. ‘One idea I had was to slip into one of their hockey training sessions … the sharpened blade of a hockey skate would be a good murder weapon.’

Minoo must have looked shocked, because Clara laughs at her.

‘I wouldn’t have done it, not really. But it was fun to fantasise about it.’

Something about her smile makes Minoo less than convinced that Clara would never have made her fantasies a reality.

Suddenly, Clara wraps her arms around herself. She looks cold despite her knitted sweater.

‘Shall I close the window?’ Minoo asks.

‘No, I’m not cold, I just feel really horrible about something I need to confess.’

She gives Minoo a quick glance.

‘You might have seen it already in my memories, but I was there when you opened Nicolaus’s grave. I watched when Cat died. And I told Alexander that Nicolaus had stored his memories in his familiar. If I hadn’t told him, he would never have worked out that Adriana had done the same with her raven. What happened to her is my fault.’

Minoo can’t see why Clara should blame herself, and says so. Clara sighs.

‘You’re wrong. I was Alexander’s spy. I hated it but … he and Viktor made up my whole world. And when Viktor was away at school I was alone with Alexander. He was only at home for a couple of evenings a week but he was always kind to me. He taught me what I should have learnt in the Council’s school. And he always brought me gifts. New books. Films and video games. Nice clothes, even though most people would think it a waste of money for an invisible person. We spent the summers together on his island in the Stockholm archipelago. Viktor would be there during school holidays and I was almost able to pretend to myself that I led an ordinary life. That I was normal.’

She is silent for a moment and then continues.

‘It was only after I came here that I began to see other sides of Alexander. That’s when I started to understand …’

She looks at Minoo.

‘I think he cares about Viktor and me. At least, as much as he is able to care about anyone; it was thanks to him that we could get away with not taking the Council’s oath for so long.’

Alexander. Obsessed by the Council and its rules. And yet he helped the twins to avoid becoming its slaves for as long as he could.

‘He has done unforgiveable things,’ Clara continues. ‘Terrible things. The fact that he isn’t bad through and through makes his evil actions almost worse. I don’t understand how he fits these things together in his own mind. I truly don’t.’

She pushes a strand of hair back behind her ear. Minoo silently compares the Alexander described by Clara with the Alexander she knows. She doesn’t understand either. Still, some people seem to be like that. They don’t make sense.