Third Voice (34 page)

Then his reflexes kicked in.

He waded out into the water. Some way out he used the strength in his arms to heave himself along the iron trellis, until he finally managed to swing around the far edge. When he reached firm ground he started moving towards the light. He didn’t dare switch on his torch, which meant that he didn’t
see the dry plank of wood. It broke right off as he stepped on it, causing a loud creak. Suddenly the light went off. Stilton stopped, and listened. He thought he heard a faint splashing sound. He pulled out his torch. He didn’t give a shit whether anyone saw him. As fast as he could, he went over to where the light had been shining. He reached a low brick wall leading up to a carved-out opening in the rock. He couldn’t see in very far, so he shone the torch down towards the water instead and saw a body floating on the surface.

Borell was standing in the doorway of the vacuum room, drying his forearms with a small towel. He’d been interrupted out there by a noisy creaking sound over by the wall. Probably just a deer, but nevertheless. He’d dumped Olivia’s body in the water and hurried back to the boathouse. She’d be found, drowned – there were no outer injuries on her body. If the discovery of her body was linked to his house he could claim that it was attempted burglary, the door to the boathouse had been open when he came home. Picked open. Unfortunately the alarm down there had been temporarily disabled due to some minor reconstruction work. The woman had probably made her way in and out through the boathouse, slipped out by the edge of the quay because it was so dark and drowned. It wasn’t up to him to explain that.

If the body was even found.

He took out the mobile he’d taken off Olivia. He was curious. He knew there were incriminating pictures of Sahlmann’s laptop on it, but maybe there were even more things of interest. More about what this young lady had gathered together? Maybe pictures taken at Silvergården? Of the woman who died there? Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to turn it on. He’d seen that it died in the office and assumed that the battery must have been flat.

But he had a few chargers in the house.

Stilton staggered out into the water and felt the panic rising in his chest. He saw the body and the long hair floating on the surface. It was facing upwards.

‘OLIVIA!’

Once he reached her he tried to lift her out of the water. He took hold of her under her arms and dragged her back to dry land. He pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around her body. He shone the torch on her face, leant down over her mouth, trying to see if she was breathing. He let go of the torch and started giving her mouth-to-mouth in the dark. A few seconds later he sat up and started pumping her chest with all his strength. He knew there was life in her, he just needed to get her system going again. He leant down and pressed his mouth against hers. At that very moment came the first gasp, a deep inhalation that almost screamed out of her body. Stilton sat up. He carried on pumping her chest to help her breathe, but now he knew that he’d succeeded. A few seconds later her eyes opened, she saw him, and then they closed shut again. Stilton took the torch in one hand, lifted Olivia up under her arms and started carrying her along the edge of the shore. He both felt and heard her breathing. He was stumbling around in the dark, trying to avoid all the driftwood. He knew he had to get around the iron trellis by the wall, all the way out, with her in his arms.

How would he manage?

Once he got there he did the only thing that was possible. He lifted Olivia’s body up onto his shoulder and started wading out. He was almost waist deep. When he got all the way out to the edge of the fencing, he took hold of the railings with his right hand and swung himself out into the water and around. For a few seconds the iron dug so far into his hand with the heavy weight that he felt the pain rush all the way up into his arms and into his brain.

But he did it.

Borell put the lights out in the house. A couple of minutes ago he’d heard something sounding like a scream. A man’s scream. He couldn’t understand where it was coming from or who it could have been. He went around looking out through different windows. No movements on the outside. He half-ran to the large kitchen and unlocked one of the back doors. The wind was blowing through the forest on the other side of the wall. He stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

Stilton was carrying Olivia in his arms through the forest towards the cars. He didn’t know exactly where they were, he had to follow his instincts, worrying about that lunatic in the house behind them the whole time. Had he seen them?

Finally he saw the cars.

Once he reached them, he tried to open the door to the back seat of Luna’s car with one hand. Just as he’d managed to open it, Olivia slid out of his arms and onto the ground. Onto her feet. She gasped. He gasped. They looked at each other for a few seconds.

‘Jump in,’ Stilton said, a rather strange choice of words in this situation. ‘Jump in’ wasn’t really something that Olivia was capable of at the moment. But she managed to get onto the back seat with Stilton’s help and he pushed the door closed. Then he noticed the blood seeping from his right hand. The iron trellis had slashed a deep cut into his palm. He took off his T-shirt and wrapped it around his hand, and pulled his jacket back over his bare upper body. Olivia would be warm enough now with the car heaters on.

Then he reversed the car out from the logging track.

Half an hour later he was helping Olivia up the ladder. She felt her chilled body trembling. She’d perked up on the way back to the city. Her lungs were hurting and Stilton had wanted to drive her to Söder Hospital. She didn’t want that, so he drove her to the barge instead.

He’d called Luna and explained. Not in detail, Luna didn’t demand any details. She’d put the lights on in the lounge and made some hot drinks. She didn’t know what Olivia wanted, they’d never met.

Stilton helped Olivia down into the lounge. She lay down on one of the benches. Luna was just about to put a blanket over her when she noticed that her clothes were completely soaked.

‘You’ll have to take those off,’ she said.

Olivia got up. Luna helped her peel off her wet clothes. Stilton crept off into his cabin, he didn’t want Olivia to feel uncomfortable. And he needed to tend to his hand, he’d driven the car with his left. As he unwrapped the bloody T-shirt he saw that the cut was deep.

‘We’re done now!’

Stilton wrapped his T-shirt around his hand again, put on another T-shirt and a dry pair of trousers, went out and sat down next to Olivia. Luna had lent her some clothes and she’d been wrapped up in a big yellow dressing gown.

‘Thank you for coming,’ Olivia said.

Her throat still hurt, her voice was thin.

‘You’re nuts, you know that?’ Stilton said.

‘Now I know.’

Olivia sank down onto her back. Borell had caught her. He’d tried to kill her. And Stilton had saved her. He’d done what he once promised her father he’d do – watched out for her. It was thanks to that that she’d survived. But she’d done what she’d set out to do. Photographed the cork bag and filmed the office. She’d found some rather incriminating evidence. She turned to face Luna.

‘Could you pass me my trousers?’

Luna gave Olivia her trousers. She put one hand in her pocket. And in the other pocket. No phone. She sank back down onto the bench again.

‘That fucking bastard,’ she whispered.

‘What’s the matter?’ Stilton said.

‘He’s stolen my phone.’

‘That’s not the end of the world, is it?’ Luna said.

‘Yes, it is end of the world,’ Olivia said. ‘The stuff on there was going to prove it all. That’s why he stole it.’

Olivia rubbed her eyes.

‘Are you up to talking about what happened out there?’ Stilton said.

She wasn’t really, but considering Stilton’s efforts, she felt that she ought to. So she told the whole story. From the moment she stepped into the boathouse, to the office and vacuum room.

When she’d finished, she blinked for few seconds and fell asleep.

Luna covered her up with a couple of thick blankets and put an extra heater in the lounge. Stilton did nothing, but inside he was full of rage. He looked at the young woman sleeping on the bench. Olivia. That fucking monster had tried to kill her. On the way back from Värmdö he’d tried to make Olivia realise that this was attempted murder and that she should contact the police. Olivia didn’t want to. She’d broken into his house, after all. Stilton hadn’t pressured her, he didn’t know what state she was in. Maybe she’d think differently once she’d recovered a bit. But he wasn’t sure now. He saw her tossing and turning under the blankets and recalled the feeling of panic in his chest.

He stood up.

‘I’m going out for a while,’ he told Luna.

‘Where?’

‘To Värmdö.’

‘What are you going to do there?’

‘Get her mobile.’

Luna looked at him. Get her mobile?

‘Then I’m coming too,’ she said.

‘Why?’

‘Her car’s still out there, isn’t it? Are you going to drive both of them back?’

Stilton had forgotten about that.

He pulled Olivia’s wet trousers towards him and got her car keys out. Luna walked over to a little curtain and pulled it to one side, revealing a safe. She opened it and took out a gun. Stilton looked at it.

‘Have you got a licence for that?’

‘Yes, do you want to see it?’

‘No.’

Stilton looked at Olivia. She was snoring. She was OK. He’d just go and get her mobile.

They set off and sat in silence for a while. Luna had put a gauze bandage and a plaster on Stilton’s hand.

‘That’ll need stitches.’

‘Yes.’

They were occupied by their own thoughts. Stilton was thinking about Abbas. He tried as best he could not to think ahead. To Borell. He wanted to remain in his state of fury when he got there. Not plan anything. He was just going to fetch a mobile.

Abbas?

He ought to be on his way home now. By train, of course, that would take a while. I wonder how he looks? He knew that Jean-Baptiste hadn’t wanted to go into detail about his injuries, so it was hard to know what to expect.

But he’s alive.

He’s on his way home.

Luna on the other hand
was
thinking ahead. To Borell. She was preparing for trouble. Based on the little she knew of the man who lived on her barge, she understood that he wouldn’t be showing mercy. She’d brought the gun just in case.

She hoped there would be no need for it.

Just before they reached Brunn, Luna broke the silence in the car.

‘What was it like being homeless?’

‘Lonely.’

‘Did you take drugs?’

‘No.’

Stilton’s responses were truncated and Luna felt that he didn’t want to delve into this any further, so she tried another approach.

‘You’re not that interested in other people, are you?’ she said.

‘No?’

‘You’ve lived with me for a while now. What do you know about me?’

‘Your father’s a captain.’

‘Exactly, and that’s about it.’

‘Yes, what’s wrong with that?’

‘It’s quite revealing.’

Stilton turned off towards Brunn and felt the irritation rising in him. What did she want? He’d rented a cabin on her barge. She’d got paid in advance.

‘I’m quite tired of other people,’ he said.

‘In general?’

‘Yes.’

‘Thanks.’

Stilton heard the undertone.

‘What do you want me to say?’ he said.

‘Nothing. You’ve been very clear.’

Stilton didn’t reply. He drove down the dark, narrow forest lane as fast as he dared and felt that the conversation had taken a bad turn. He had nothing against Luna, quite the contrary, she’d been there for him and Muriel and Olivia. There was also something about her, something he didn’t want to feel. Perhaps it was that he was trying to protect himself against?

‘There it is.’

Stilton had driven down the narrow logging track and was pointing over at the Mustang.

‘Can you drive it back?’ he said.

‘OK.’

Stilton passed her Olivia’s car keys.

‘You needn’t wait.’

‘Is it a long way to the house?’

‘Quite a way, yeah.’

Luna got out and Stilton drove off. Luna got in the Mustang, reversed out and followed Stilton. Keeping a distance. With only her parking lights on.

Stilton slowed down as he approached the large iron gate. It was open. He wondered whether he should park and walk down. Why? He drove through the gate and sped up to the lit-up pathway and slammed the brakes on outside the spectacular entrance. Just as he was getting out of the car he saw Luna’s gun. She’d put it on the passenger seat. He hesitated a moment. Then he stuffed it into the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

He leapt up the front steps in a couple of strides. When he reached the large wooden door he saw that it was ajar. First the gate and now the door? He noted this in his subconscious and pulled the heavy door open.

‘Hello!’ he shouted into the hallway. No answer. Just strange music. He headed in towards a lit-up room. To the right he saw a bar. Not a soul in sight.

‘HELLO! IS THERE ANYONE HERE?’

Total silence, except for the music. Stilton looked around. Until now he’d just been running on rage. He’d expected to be meeting a person whom he was going to deal with as necessary. And now there wasn’t anyone here. Even though the lights were on everywhere. Is he hiding? Where? Perhaps in that bloody vacuum room?

Stilton started walking through the house.

Luna had stopped at the gate. She didn’t want to drive in. She was standing outside the car looking down towards where she thought the house must be. She couldn’t hear anything from over there. But she did hear something that sounded like a motorboat. She knew that the house was situated by the water,
although she couldn’t see any. But she recognised that sound. She tried to listen harder.

It was a motorboat.