The Preacher (15 page)

She’d been glad when Anna divorced Lucas Maxwell, the children’s father. Anna had then gone back to her dream of studying art and antiquities, and she’d had the great good fortune to find a part-time job at the Stockholm Auction Association. That’s where she had met Gustav. He came from one of Sweden’s most blue-blooded families. He spent his time administering the family estate in Hälsingland, which back in the sixteenth century had been conferred upon one of his ancestors by King Gustav Vasa. His family mixed socially with the royal family, and if his father was busy, Gustav instead would sometimes be sent the invitation to the King’s annual hunt. Awestruck, Anna had related all this to her sister. Erica felt a bit uneasy, having seen a bit too much of the upper-class louts who frequented the clubs around Stureplan. She had never met Gustav, so perhaps he was different from the rich heirs who, safe behind their wealth and titles, chose to behave like swine in places such as the Riche and the Spy Bar. She would find out tomorrow. She crossed her fingers that she was wrong and that Gustav would be of a completely different calibre. There was nobody who deserved happiness and stability more than Anna.

Erica turned on the fan and thought about how she was going to spend her day. Her midwife had explained that the hormone oxytocin, more of which is secreted as a woman approaches the time of delivery, creates strong nesting instincts in pregnant women. That explained why Erica in recent weeks had been almost manically sorting, numbering and cataloguing everything in their home as if her life depended on it. She was obsessed with the idea that everything had to be ready and in order before the baby arrived. But now she had reached a stage where there wasn’t much more to organize in the house. The wardrobes were cleaned, the nursery was ready, and the silverware drawers had been tidied. The only thing left to put in order was the cellar, which was filled with junk. No sooner said than done. She got up, puffing, and resolutely stuck the table fan under her arm. She’d better hurry before Patrik discovered what she was doing.

He’d taken a five-minute break to sit outside the police station and have a choc-ice, when Gösta stuck his head out of one of the open windows and shouted to him.

‘Patrik, there’s a call for you. I think you should take it.’

Patrik quickly finished his Magnum and went inside. He picked up the receiver on Gösta’s desk and was a little surprised to hear who it was. After a brief conversation while he jotted down some notes, he hung up. To Gösta, who had been watching him from his office chair, he said, ‘As you heard, somebody has broken the windows at Gabriel Hult’s house. Do you want to come along and take a look?’

Gösta seemed surprised that Patrik asked him instead of Martin, but he nodded.

As they came up the front drive a few minutes later, they couldn’t help emitting envious sighs. The manor house where Gabriel Hult resided was truly magnificent. It shimmered like a white pearl in the middle of all the greenery, and the alders lining the road to the house bent deferentially in the wind. Patrik thought that Ephraim Hult must have been a real genius of a preacher to be given such splendour.

Even the crunching of the gravel beneath their feet as they walked up the path to the front steps sounded luxurious. He was very curious to see the inside of the house.

It was Gabriel himself who opened the door. Both Patrik and Gösta wiped their feet carefully on the doormat before they entered the foyer.

‘Thanks for coming so quickly. My wife is very upset about all this. I was out of town on business last night, so she was at home alone when it happened.’

As he spoke he led the way to a large, lovely room, with high windows that let in as much sunshine as possible. On a white sofa sat a woman with a worried expression on her face. She rose to greet them as they entered the room.

‘Laine Hult. I’m grateful you could come so promptly.’

She sat down again, and Gabriel motioned Patrik and Gösta to take a seat on the opposite sofa. Both of them felt slightly out of place. Neither of them dressed up to go to work so they were wearing shorts. Patrik at least had on a nice T-shirt, while Gösta was wearing a very old short-sleeved shirt made of some synthetic material with a mint-green pattern. The contrast was even greater since Laine was wearing a light dress in natural-coloured linen while Gabriel was dressed in a business suit. Must be hot, thought Patrik, hoping that Gabriel didn’t always have to wear clothes like that in the summer heat. But it was pretty hard to imagine him in anything less formal, and he didn’t even seem to be sweating in his dark-blue suit. Patrik, on the other hand, was getting wet under the arms just thinking about wearing that sort of outfit this time of year.

‘Your husband told me briefly on the phone what happened, but perhaps you could tell me in more detail?’

Patrik gave Laine a reassuring smile as he took out his little notebook and a pen. He waited.

‘Well, I was at home by myself yesterday. Gabriel is often out travelling, so there are quite a few solitary nights for me.’

Patrik heard the sadness in her voice when she said that, and wondered whether Gabriel did too.

‘I know it’s foolish,’ she went on, ‘but I’m very afraid of the dark, so I usually stay in two rooms when I’m by myself, my bedroom and the TV room, which is right next door.’

Patrik noticed that she said ‘my’ bedroom and couldn’t help reflecting on how deplorable it was that married couples didn’t even sleep in the same bed. That would never happen to him and Erica.

‘I was just about to ring Gabriel when I saw something moving outside. The next instant something came flying through one of the windows at the end of the house, to the left of where I was standing. I managed to see that it was a big rock before another one broke the window next to it. Then I heard only the sound of running feet outside, and I saw two shadows disappear at the edge of the forest.’

Patrik took notes using brief keywords. Gösta hadn’t said a thing since they arrived, other than his name when he was introduced to Gabriel and Laine. Patrik gave him an enquiring look to see whether he wanted to have anything clarified regarding the incident, but he sat in silence, carefully studying his cuticles. I could just as well have brought along a doorstop, Patrik thought.

‘Do you have any idea of a possible motive?’

The reply came quickly from Gabriel, almost as if he wanted to ward off something that Laine might say.

‘No, nothing other than good old envy. It has always been a thorn in the side that my family lives here at the manor, and we’ve experienced a number of drunken attacks over the years. Just innocent pranks. And that’s how this would have ended too, if my wife hadn’t insisted on calling in the police.’

He cast an ill-humoured glance at Laine, who for the first time during the conversation showed a little energy and angrily glared back. The defiance of her action seemed to ignite a smouldering spark in her. To Patrik she said calmly, without even a glance at her husband, ‘I think you should have a talk with Robert and Stefan Hult, my husband’s nephews, and ask them where they were yesterday.’

‘Laine, that is quite unnecessary!’

‘You weren’t here, so you don’t know how horrid it is to have rocks come flying through your window just a few feet away. They could have hit me. And you know as well as I do that it was those two idiots who did it.’

Gabriel spoke through clenched teeth, his jaw muscles visibly tensed. ‘Laine, we agreed – ’

‘You agreed!’ She ignored him and turned to Patrik, fortified by her own unusual show of defiance.

‘As I said, I didn’t see them, but I could swear that it was Stefan and Robert. Their mother, Solveig, was here earlier in the day, and she behaved very unpleasantly. Those two are real bad eggs, as you already know. You’ve undoubtedly dealt with them before.’

She gestured towards Patrik and Gösta, who could do nothing but nod in agreement. Of course they’d had dealings with the notorious Hult brothers, and at an alarming rate, ever since they were no more than pimply teenagers.

Laine gave Gabriel another withering look as if to see whether he dared contradict her, but he merely shrugged his shoulders in resignation. It was a gesture that indicated he was washing his hands of the matter.

‘What caused the row with their mother?’ asked Patrik.

‘Not that someone like her needs much of an excuse. She has always hated us, but what really made her lose it yesterday was the news about the bodies you found in the King’s Cleft. With her limited intelligence Solveig made it sound like it proved that her husband Johannes had been innocently accused, and she blamed Gabriel for it.’

Her voice rose with agitation and she pointed at her husband, who now looked as if he’d mentally retreated from the whole conversation.

‘I’ve gone through the old papers from when the girls went missing,’ said Patrik. ‘I saw that you reported your brother to the police as a suspect. Could you tell us a little about that?’

Gabriel flinched almost imperceptibly, a little tell-tale sign that the question bothered him, but his voice sounded calm when he replied.

‘It was many, many years ago. But if you’re asking whether I still maintain that I saw my brother with Siv Lantin, then the answer is yes. I’d been at the hospital in Uddevalla, visiting my son who was then sick with leukaemia, and I was driving home. On the way up to Bräcke I saw my brother’s car. I thought it was a bit odd for him to be out driving in the middle of the night, so I looked more closely. That’s when I saw the girl sitting in the passenger seat with her head leaning on my brother’s shoulder. It looked like she was asleep.’

‘How did you know it was Siv?’

‘I didn’t. But I recognized her again the moment I saw her picture in the paper. I’d like to point out that I never said my brother murdered those girls, the way people here in town would have you believe. All I did was report that I saw him with the girl named Siv, because I considered it my civic duty. It had nothing to do with any conflict between the two of us, or revenge, as some have claimed. I told the police what I saw. As for what it meant, I left that up to the authorities to find out. And obviously they never found any evidence against Johannes, so I think this whole discussion is beside the point.’

‘But what did you think?’ said Patrik with a curious glance at Gabriel. He was having a hard time understanding how anyone could be so conscientious that he would finger his own brother.

‘I don’t speculate; I stick to the facts.’

‘But you knew your brother well. Do you think he would have been capable of murder?’

‘My brother and I didn’t have much in common. Sometimes I was amazed that we shared the same genes, we were so unlike each other. You ask whether I think he was capable of taking someone’s life?’ Gabriel threw out his hands. ‘I don’t really know. I didn’t know my brother well enough to be able to answer that question. And it seems to be superfluous now anyway, considering the latest developments, don’t you think?’

With that he considered the discussion over and he got up from the armchair. Patrik and Gösta took the hint, thanked him for his time and left.

‘What do you say, shall we go have a chat with the boys about their activities last night?’

The question was rhetorical, and Patrik had already started driving towards Stefan and Robert’s house without waiting for Gösta to reply. The older man’s lack of participation during the interview annoyed him. What would it take to shake some life into the old fogey? It’s true he didn’t have much time left until he retired, but until then, damn it, he was on duty and was expected to do his job.

‘Well, what’s your take on all this?’ The irritation in Patrik’s voice was clear.

‘Well, I don’t know which alternative is worse. That we have a murderer who’s killed at least three girls in the past twenty years, and we have no idea who he is. Or that it really was Johannes Hult who tortured and murdered Siv and Mona and that we now have a copycat. To follow up on the first alternative, we should probably check with the prison register. Is there anyone who was incarcerated after Siv and Mona disappeared and then released before the murder of the German girl? That would explain the break between the killings.’ Gösta’s tone was thoughtful, and Patrik looked at him in amazement. The old guy wasn’t as lost in the fog as he’d thought.

‘That should be pretty easy to check out. We don’t have many prisoners in Sweden that have served a twenty-year sentence. Will you check on it when we get back to the station?’

Gösta nodded and then sat in silence, looking out the side window.

The track leading to the old forester’s cabin grew worse and worse. As the crow flies, it was only a short distance between Gabriel and Laine’s residence and the little cabin where Solveig and her sons lived. But it was a considerably longer distance in social standing. The place looked like a junkyard: three ramshackle cars in varying states of disrepair looked as if they’d been flung there and there was a lot of refuse of indeter minate character. The family were obviously packrats. Patrik suspected that if he rummaged about he might also find a good deal of stolen goods that had been reported missing from summer-cabin break-ins in the area. But that’s not why they were here today. It was a matter of choosing one’s battles.

Robert came towards them from a shed where he’d been tinkering with one of the old wrecked cars. He was dressed in dirty work coveralls of a washed-out denim. Oil covered his hands, and he had apparently rubbed his face, leaving behind streaks and flecks of oil. He wiped his hands on a rag as he came to meet them.

‘What the hell do you want now? If you’re looking for something here I’m going to have to see the proper documents before you can touch anything.’ His tone was familiar. And justifiably so, since they had met on many occasions over the years.

Patrik held up his hands. ‘Take it easy. We’re not looking for anything. We just want to have a little talk.’

Robert gave them a suspicious look but then nodded.

‘And we want to talk to your brother too. Is he here?’

Reluctantly Robert nodded again and yelled towards the house, ‘Stefan, the cops are here. They want to talk to us!’