The Scent of Almonds: A Novella (12 page)

‘What are the two of you doing?’ Vivi asked Bernard.

‘Nothing. We’re just going to check on something,’ said Bernard evasively as he continued on to his room. Martin was right on his heels.

‘See, it’s not locked. Anybody could go in.’ Bernard opened the door and motioned for Martin to enter.

The room was immaculate. Three white shirts, meticulously pressed, hung in the open wardrobe. A pair of shiny black shoes, identical to the ones Bernard was wearing, had been placed underneath the shirts. No suitcase was visible, so it must have been stowed away. A book lay on the bedside table.
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
. Martin was just thinking to himself that he wouldn’t have taken Bernard for a reader, when Bernard stopped short and said:

‘That’s grandfather’s book, I can’t imagine what it’s doing here. I only read business publications. Grandpa was the one who was so keen on Sherlock Holmes. Those stories seem incredibly lame, in my opinion.’

Martin raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you notice anything else odd? Is anything else missing?’

Bernard looked around but then shook his head. ‘No, everything else is exactly as I left it.’

Martin knelt down to lift up the bed covers.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Bernard in surprise. ‘Oh, you’re looking for the gun.’

‘Yes,’ said Martin, squinting to peer under the bed and all the way over to the wall. ‘Any objections?’

‘No, damn it. Knock yourself out!’ Bernard leaned against the wall, crossed his arms, and watched with amusement as Martin crept about on the floor.

After a few minutes Martin stood up, brushed off his trousers, and said, ‘I assume you brought a suitcase. Can I see it?’

‘Be my guest,’ said Bernard, and pointed at the wardrobe. ‘It’s in there. Go ahead and paw through my underwear.’

Martin pulled the suitcase out of the cramped space, placed it on the floor, and opened the lid. He rummaged through the clothes and searched the side pockets but found nothing.

‘No smoking gun?’ said Bernard, watching as Martin put the suitcase back in the wardrobe.

‘No,’ said Martin. ‘I didn’t find a thing.’

‘Am I still your primary suspect?’ Bernard seemed to be genuinely enjoying the situation.

‘You’re at the top of the list, at any rate. So don’t leave town, as they say.’

‘No risk of that.’ Bernard laughed. ‘Although it sounds as though the bloody storm is starting to abate at last. Maybe it won’t be long before we can leave this godforsaken place.’

‘Let’s hope so.’ Martin looked around one last time before he left the room. Bernard followed.

‘Can I have my phone back?’ asked Bernard, holding out his hand.

‘No. I’ll keep it for the time being,’ Martin told him, patting his pocket. ‘There’s still no phone reception, so you won’t be needing it.’

‘What about the book?’

‘I’m going to ask the others whether anyone knows anything about it. But I’d be surprised if anyone voluntarily admits to putting it in your room. What do you think? Is it some sort of message to you?’

‘Or maybe I put it there myself. To throw you off the trail. Don’t forget that I’m your prime suspect!’ He laughed again.

This time Martin couldn’t keep silent. ‘Do you think the situation is funny? Your cousin is dead. And your grandfather, too. But you seem to regard the whole thing as a joke.’

‘I’m crying inside,’ said Bernard, melodramatically clutching his hand to his chest.

Martin couldn’t stand looking at him any longer. He pushed his way past and went back downstairs. There he met Börje.

‘The storm is letting up,’ he said, and Martin nodded. ‘Yes, we noticed. Maybe we’ll be able to leave soon.’

‘Well, we don’t really want our guests to be eager to leave. But in this situation I can understand how you all feel.’ Börje then pointed towards the library. ‘There’s fresh coffee.’

‘Thanks,’ said Martin, and headed in that direction. He heard Bernard coming down the stairs behind him. Martin hurried to enter the library so he wouldn’t have to listen to any more idiotic comments.

‘What have you been doing?’ asked Harald, who had regained some of his authority. He gave Martin a stern look.

‘We were checking on something,’ he replied with a dismissive gesture. He planned on telling all of them what they’d found, but he wanted to do it on his own terms.

He went over to the table where the coffee maker had been placed and poured himself a cup. Then he sat down on the sofa. Lisette had moved from where she’d been sitting at her mother’s feet and was now slumped on the sofa, staring at the floor with glassy eyes. Martin reached out to stroke her hand, which was resting on the sofa cushion. She didn’t respond, but at least she didn’t push his hand away. Martin realized that he’d been terribly negligent when it came to his duties as her boyfriend. Or rather, ex boyfriend. He hadn’t even made an attempt to comfort her.

Martin could hear that Bernard was building up to tell his father about the book on the bedside table, so he jumped into the conversation.

‘It appears that someone went into Bernard’s room earlier today. At least, that’s what Bernard claims.’ He couldn’t resist adding the latter remark. ‘And this person seems to have taken a mobile phone and then placed a book on the bedside table. Do any of you know anything about this?’ Martin looked around at everyone gathered in the library. Silence was the only reply. Britten didn’t seem to have heard the question. Bernard and Gustav merely shook their heads. Vivi and Miranda, who were sitting on the sofa across from him, also seemed preoccupied with other thoughts. Miranda’s face was white as a sheet. Martin suddenly remembered that both she and her mother had had an odd look on their faces when he met them on the stairs. That might be something worth checking out.

‘What sort of book?’ Lisette now asked, turning to look at Martin.

‘Sherlock Holmes. An anthology, I think.’

Lisette giggled. A strangely hollow sound. ‘It probably belongs to Grandpa. He was obsessed with Sherlock Holmes.’

‘In his younger days he was the chairman of a Sherlock Holmes club,’ Harald added. ‘And he continued to be a member all these years. I’ve always had a feeling that the club – and the purported interest in those detective stories – was merely an excuse for a bunch of old men to sit around chatting and drinking whisky once a month.’

‘No, Ruben was genuinely interested.’ Britten’s voice still sounded very fragile. ‘And he got Matte interested too. They used to discuss the stories whenever they got together on Fridays.’

‘But you have no idea who might have put the book there? Or why?’

No one answered.

Gustav cleared his throat. ‘No sign of the gun?’

‘No. I’m afraid not.’

Silence again settled over the room. Everyone was gathered in the library, and only now did it fully occur to Martin that one of these individuals was a murderer. There was no getting around that. Two men lay dead inside the cold-storage room. One poisoned, the other fatally shot. Whoever committed the murders was here in this room. Martin felt cold shivers ripple through his body. It was an alarming thought.

‘What will happen once we get back to the mainland?’ Miranda asked the question that was on everyone’s mind.

‘All of you will be interviewed by my colleagues at the police station. The tech team will come over here to examine the crime scene.’ He hesitated for a moment but then went on.

‘The bodies of Ruben and Matte will be taken to the pathology lab for a post mortem. I’m hoping that we’ll be able to solve the case relatively quickly.’

Miranda nodded. She looked from one person to the next, and she seemed to be thinking the same thing as Martin. It was as if she was seeing the other family members for the first time, considering them as suspects. Then her eyes alighted on her mother, and that odd expression returned to her face. For her part, Vivi was looking at Martin, and he noticed a sense of calm in her gaze that he hadn’t seen before. The nervous and fitful energy that had been so prevalent seemed to have vanished. That made Martin even more curious. He decided to get to the bottom of this.

‘Vivi … Could I have a word with you? In the office?’

She nodded and stood up to follow him out of the library.

When they were both seated in the small office for the second time that dramatic weekend, he saw a different woman from the one he’d seen at the first interview.

‘I have a feeling that something has happened. Something you haven’t told me about.’ He paused for a second before going on.

‘I can’t point to anything concrete, but it feels as if …’ Martin was searching for the right words when Vivi interrupted.

‘You’re more sensitive than I thought.’ Her composure gave her an entirely different personality, and Martin found that he liked this new Vivi. Whatever had caused the change, it was definitely for the better.

‘If I tell you that it’s a family matter that has nothing whatsoever to do with the murders, will you drop the subject?’ She tilted her head and gazed at him intently as she waited to hear his reply.

‘No,’ Martin told her. ‘Right now I’m the one who decides what’s relevant and what isn’t. So I’d appreciate it if you would tell me everything, even though you’d prefer to keep the matter private.’

‘I thought that’s what you would say,’ replied Vivi. ‘Oh well, since Pandora’s box has already been opened, I suppose there’s no harm in informing the authorities too.’ She laughed, and Martin found himself liking this woman more and more. She seemed to have truly come alive. As if a strong and vibrant Vivi had shaken off her fragile shell.

‘As you’ve noticed, something has changed between Miranda and me. That’s because a short time ago I told her that she is not Gustav’s daughter. Harald is her father.’

Martin’s mouth fell open. Whatever he may have been expecting, this was not it. He didn’t say a word as Vivi continued:

‘I had a brief affair with Harald and ended up pregnant. And the result was Miranda.’

‘What about Bernard?’ Martin was still having trouble collecting his thoughts.

Vivi snorted. ‘Bernard is definitely Gustav’s son. He’s the spitting image of his father. But I’ve always thought that Miranda looked a little like Matte.’ For the first time since she’d started talking, her voice quavered.

‘That’s why I … Well, I considered it was only right that Miranda should be told that it was her brother who was dead. Not her cousin.’

‘And Gustav? Does he know about this?’ Martin still could hardly believe what she’d told him. It was like something out of a soap opera.

‘Gustav? No, he’d never imagine that I would have the courage to go behind his back. He has always underestimated me. In every regard. I think he’d be mostly … surprised. And furious with Harald, naturally.’

‘Does Harald know about Miranda?’

Vivi laughed. ‘Of course. Harald was present when she was conceived, after all. Although I don’t think he has ever been a hundred per cent certain that Miranda is his daughter. But he knows that it’s possible.’

‘You must have been scared that the whole story would come out.’

Vivi’s face softened at Martin’s sympathetic tone.

‘Yes. I’ve had my share of sleepless nights. But more than anything …’ She hesitated, but Martin didn’t say a word. ‘More than anything, I’ve been so worried about what would be inherited.’

‘Inherited? The money?’ asked Martin, looking puzzled. ‘Do you mean that Ruben would be upset if he—’

Vivi shook her head. ‘No, not the money to be inherited. I meant genetically speaking. Considering all that Matte has been through over the years … the constant episodes of depression and everything else. So of course I’ve worried that Miranda would suffer the same psychological problems.’

‘But she hasn’t?’

‘No, and thank God for that. It seems to be something that affected only poor Matte.’

‘How serious were these periods of depression? No one wants to talk about it.’

‘No, I’m sure they don’t.’ Vivi’s tone turned bitter. ‘That poor boy never had an easy time of it. Britten did her best, but the men in this family tried to ignore what was going on. Even Ruben, who was so fond of Matte, didn’t want to acknowledge how serious the boy’s mental problems were. He should have had professional help much earlier, and more extensive treatment than he ever received. Not even when he—’ The sound of a distant crash stopped her mid-sentence.

They both looked out of the window.

‘The icebreaker seems to have started work,’ said Martin, but then he encouraged Vivi to pick up where she’d left off. ‘You were saying: “not even when he …”’

‘Right,’ said Vivi, turning to look at Martin again. ‘Not even when he tried to kill himself. He tried several times, but they refused to acknowledge how dire the situation was. He would be admitted to an institution for “rest and recuperation”, but there was never any question of intensive treatment. I think Harald even said once that he “hoped the boy would grow out of the problem”.’ Now she sounded angry.

A knock on the door interrupted them. It was Börje.

‘The icebreaker is on its way. Everyone should pack their bags and head down to the dock ASAP.’

Martin looked at Vivi. ‘All right. I think we’re done here.’

She nodded and stood up. ‘I’ll go upstairs and pack. I have to admit, it’s going to be a relief to leave this place behind.’

‘I couldn’t agree more.’ Martin followed her out and then went to the room he was sharing with Lisette. She was already there, packing her clothes in a suitcase. Her eyes were red-rimmed.

‘How’s it going?’ he said, putting his arms around her. For a moment she relaxed and pressed closer.

Then she pulled away and said, ‘I assume this is goodbye. Am I right?’ She looked him calmly in the eye.

Martin could only reply, ‘Yes, I think so. I suppose it is.’

She stepped forward, took his face in her hands, and kissed him on the cheek.

‘I’m sorry for being so stupid,’ she said.

‘No, not at all. The whole situation has just been so … stressful. It’s affected everybody, in one way or another.’

‘You’re a nice man, Martin.’ She kissed him again on the cheek. Then she picked up her suitcase and left the room without looking back. For several minutes Martin didn’t move. He was filled with an overwhelming sense of relief, but he also felt a twinge of sorrow. Once again he’d seen a relationship crumble, and it was an experience that was starting to wear him down. Was there really no one out there for him?