Buried Angels (10 page)

Gösta nodded and moved a short distance away as he tapped in a number on his mobile.

‘Do you think there’s something else … underneath there?’ asked Ebba, her voice quavering.

Patrik realized at once what she was hinting at.

‘It’s impossible to say. We’re going to have to rip up the rest of the floor to see what we can find.’

‘It’s true that we could use some help with the renovation, but this wasn’t exactly what we had in mind,’ said Tobias with a hollow laugh. No one else laughed.

Gösta finished his phone call and came back to join them. ‘The techs can’t come out here until tomorrow. So I hope you can stand to leave things the way they are until then. Nothing must be touched. You can’t do any cleaning or tidying up.’

‘We won’t touch anything. Why would we do that?’ said Tobias.

‘This is my chance to find out what happened,’ said Ebba.

‘Maybe we could sit down somewhere and have a little talk.’ Patrik backed away from the section of the floor that had been removed, but what he’d seen was already burned into his memory. For his part, he was convinced that it was blood. A thick layer of congealed blood, no longer red but dark with age. If his theory was right, it had to be more than thirty years old.

‘We can sit in the kitchen, that’s nice and neat,’ said Tobias, making a move to show Patrik the way. Ebba stayed where she was, along with Gösta.

‘Are you coming?’ Tobias turned to his wife.

‘You go ahead. Ebba and I will join you in a minute,’ said Gösta.

Patrik was about to say that it was Ebba, above all, that they needed to talk to. But he glanced at her pale face and realized Gösta was right. She could use a moment to herself, and there was really no hurry.

Describing the kitchen as nice and neat proved to be an overstatement. Tools and paintbrushes were scattered everywhere, and the worktop was hidden beneath piles of dirty dishes and the remains of breakfast.

Tobias sat down at the kitchen table.

‘We’re actually neat-freaks, Ebba and I. Or rather, we were,’ he corrected himself. ‘Hard to believe when you see things in this state, isn’t it?’

‘Renovating is hell,’ said Patrik, sitting down on a chair after first brushing off a few breadcrumbs.

‘It doesn’t seem so important to keep everything neat and clean any more.’ Tobias looked towards the kitchen window. It was covered with dust, as if a veil had been drawn across it to hide the view.

‘What do you know about Ebba’s past?’ asked Patrik.

He could hear Gösta and Ebba talking in the dining room, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying, although he tried. Gösta’s behaviour surprised him. Back at the station, when he had dashed into Gösta’s office to tell him what had happened, his colleague’s reaction had also seemed completely out of character. But then Gösta had closed up like a clam, remaining silent all the way out to Valö.

‘My parents and Ebba’s adoptive parents are good friends, and what happened in her past has never been a secret. So I’ve known for a long time that her family disappeared without a trace. I don’t think there’s much more to know, is there?’

‘No. The police didn’t make any progress with their investigation, despite putting in a lot of time and energy. It remains a mystery why they simply disappeared.’

‘But maybe they’ve been here the whole time.’ Ebba’s voice made them both jump.

‘I don’t think they’re lying under the floor,’ said Gösta, pausing in the doorway. ‘If someone had damaged the floorboards in any way, we would have noticed. The planks were completely untouched, and there was no trace of blood either. It must have seeped in between the boards.’

‘Well, I want to know for sure that they’re not under there,’ said Ebba.

‘The techs will inspect every millimetre when they get here tomorrow. You can be sure of that,’ said Gösta, putting his arm around Ebba.

Patrik stared. Normally when they were out on a job, Gösta made very little effort. And Patrik couldn’t recall ever seeing him touch another person.

‘Right now you need some strong coffee.’ Gösta gave Ebba a pat on the shoulder and went to turn on the coffee maker. As the coffee began dripping into the pot, he stood at the sink and washed a few cups.

‘Why don’t you tell us what you know about what happened here.’ Patrik pulled out a chair for Ebba.

She sat down, and he was struck by how thin she was. Her T-shirt seemed much too big, and her collarbone was clearly visible under the fabric.

‘I don’t think I can tell you anything that people around here haven’t already heard. I was barely a year old at the time, so I don’t remember. And my adoptive parents know only that someone called the police to report that something had happened. When the police arrived, my family were nowhere to be seen, and I was here all alone. This was on the evening before Easter. That’s when they disappeared.’ She pulled out the pendant that was hidden under her T-shirt and began tugging on it, just as Patrik had noticed her doing the day before. It made her seem even more fragile.

‘Here.’ Gösta set a cup of coffee in front of Ebba, and poured one for himself before sitting down. Patrik couldn’t help smiling. Gösta was his old self again.

‘How about some coffee for the rest of us?’

‘Do I look like a waiter?’

Tobias got up. ‘I’ll do it.’

‘Is it true that you were left all alone when your family disappeared? That you had no living relatives?’ asked Patrik.

Ebba nodded.

‘Yes. My mother had no brothers or sisters, and my maternal grandmother died before I turned one. My father was much older, and his parents had died long ago. The only family I have is my adoptive family. And in one sense, I’ve been very lucky. Berit and Sture have always made me feel like their very own daughter.’

‘There were a few boys from the school who were staying here over the Easter holiday. Have you ever been in contact with any of them?’

‘No, why would I do that?’ Ebba’s eyes looked huge in her thin face.

‘We’ve had nothing to do with this place until we decided to move here,’ said Tobias. ‘Ebba inherited the house when her biological parents were declared dead, but after that it was rented out several times. Periodically it stood empty. That’s actually what prompted us to get started on the renovation. Nobody was taking care of the house. Only the most basic repairs have been done.’

‘I think we were meant to come here and tear up the floor,’ said Ebba. ‘There’s a reason for everything.’

‘Really?’ said Tobias. ‘For everything?’

But Ebba didn’t reply, and when Tobias followed Patrik and Gösta to the door, she was still sitting at the table in silence.

As they left Valö behind, Patrik was pondering the same question. What would they do if the techs confirmed that it was blood under the floor? The statute of limitations had expired. Too much time had elapsed, and there were no guarantees that answers could be found this long after the event. So what was the reason behind this discovery? Patrik’s head was filled with uneasy thoughts as he steered the boat homeward.

The doctor stopped talking and utter silence descended over the room. The only sound that Martin heard was the beating of his own heart. He looked at the doctor. How could he seem so unaffected by what he’d just said? Did he give people this sort of news several times a week? And if he did, how could he stand it?

Martin forced himself to keep breathing. He felt as if he’d forgotten how. Every breath demanded a conscious act, a specific instruction to his brain.

‘How long?’ he managed to say.

‘There are several different types of treatment, and the field of medicine is constantly making progress …’ The doctor threw out his hands.

‘But what’s the prognosis, statistically speaking?’ asked Martin, trying to remain calm. He would have liked to launch himself across the desk, grab hold of the doctor’s coat, and shake the information out of him.

Pia didn’t say a word, and Martin still couldn’t look at her. If he did, everything would fall apart. Right now all he could do was focus on the facts. Something tangible, something he could grasp.

‘It’s difficult to be precise. There are so many factors that play a role.’ The same apologetic expression, his hands raised in the air. Already Martin detested that gesture.

‘Answer me!’ he shouted, practically jumping at the sound of his own voice.

‘We’ll start treatment immediately, and then we’ll see how Pia responds. But considering how the cancer has spread, and how aggressive it seems to be … well, we’re talking about six months to a year.’

Martin stared at him. Had he heard right? Tuva wasn’t yet two years old. She couldn’t possibly lose her mother. Things like that didn’t happen. He started shaking. It was oppressively hot in the small room, but he was so cold that his teeth were chattering. Pia put her hand on his arm.

‘Calm down, Martin. We need to stay calm. There’s always a chance that the prognosis is wrong. And I’m going to do whatever it takes to …’ She turned to the doctor. ‘Give me the best treatment you have. I plan to fight this.’

‘We’ll admit you at once. Go home and pack a bag. A room will be arranged for you.’

Martin felt ashamed. Pia was being so strong while he was on the verge of collapse. Images of Tuva whirled through his head, from the moment of her birth to early this morning when she had snuggled with them in bed. Her dark hair tousled, her eyes lively with laughter. Would that laughter be silenced now? Would she lose her joy, her faith that everything was good and that the next day would be even better?

‘We’ll make it through this.’ Pia’s face was ashen, but there was a determination in her expression, which he knew was a sign of her great tenacity. And she was going to need all the resolve she could muster for the most important fight of her life.

‘Let’s go pick up Tuva from Mamma’s place and go out for coffee,’ she said, standing up. ‘We can talk in peace and quiet after she has gone to bed. And I need to pack. How long should I plan on being away from home?’

Martin slowly got to his feet, although his legs felt as if they might buckle at any moment. It was so typical of Pia to think of the practical details.

The doctor hesitated. ‘Just pack enough things for a while.’

He said goodbye and then left to see his next patient.

Martin and Pia stood in the corridor for a moment. Silently they reached out to hold hands.

‘You give them juice in their bottles? Aren’t you afraid it’ll be bad for their teeth?’ Kristina cast a disapproving look at Anton and Noel, who were sitting on the sofa, each holding a bottle.

Erica sighed heavily. Her mother-in-law meant well, and she had actually improved of late, but sometimes Kristina really got on her nerves.

‘I’ve tried giving them water, but they refuse to drink it. And they need fluids in this heat. But I’ve diluted the juice quite a bit.’

‘Well, it’s up to you,’ sniffed Kristina. ‘I’ve given you my opinion. Patrik and Lotta were only given water, and that worked out fine. They didn’t have a single cavity before they left home, and the dentist was always complimenting me on their beautiful teeth.’

Erica bit her tongue as she stood in the kitchen, cleaning up, well out of Kristina’s view. Her mother-in-law was tolerable in small doses, and she was wonderful with the children, but these half-day visits tested Erica’s patience to the limit.

‘I think I’ll put a load of washing in the machine, Erica,’ said Kristina loudly and then continued talking, as if to herself: ‘It’s easier if you pick up things a little at a time and keep the place tidy, then you don’t end up with piles of clutter. Everything should have its place. You need to put it all away when you’re done with it, and Maja is big enough to tidy up after herself. Otherwise she’ll turn out to be a spoiled teenager who never moves away from home and who expects to be waited on, hand and foot. You know my friend Berit? Well, her son is almost forty, but he’s never …’

Erica stuck her fingers in her ears and leaned her forehead against one of the kitchen cupboards. She quietly pounded her head against the cool wooden surface, praying for patience. A firm tap on her shoulder made her jump.

‘What are you doing?’ Kristina was standing next to her, with a fully loaded laundry basket at her feet. ‘I was talking to you, but you didn’t answer.’

With her fingers still stuck in her ears, Erica tried to come up with a plausible explanation.

‘I’m having … trouble with pressure in my ears.’ She pinched her nose and blew hard. ‘It’s been bothering me a lot lately.’

‘Oh my,’ said Kristina. ‘That’s something you need to take seriously. Have you checked to make sure it’s not an ear infection? Children are forever bringing home illnesses when they go to day-care. I’ve always said that day-care centres are not the best solution. In my day, I stayed home with Patrik and Lotta until they started middle school. They didn’t need to go to day-care or stay with a babysitter for even a single day. And they were never sick. Our doctor was always praising me because they were so—’

Erica cut her off mid-flow. ‘The kids haven’t been there for weeks, so I don’t think the day-care centre is the culprit.’

‘If you say so,’ replied Kristina, looking hurt. ‘But at least you know my opinion. After all, who is it you call whenever the children are sick and the two of you have to work? I’m the one who always has to step in.’ She tossed her head, picked up the laundry basket, and left the room.

Erica slowly counted to ten. There was no denying that Kristina often helped out, but they certainly paid a high price for it.

Josef’s parents were both over forty when his mother received the highly unexpected news that she was pregnant. Having long since accepted the fact that they’d never have any children, they had arranged their lives accordingly, devoting all their time to the small tailor’s shop in Fjällbacka. Josef’s arrival changed everything. Although they felt great joy at the prospect of a son and heir, they also felt a great weight because of the responsibility of passing on their heritage, through him.

Josef lovingly studied the photograph of them, which he kept in a solid silver frame on his desk. Behind that photo stood framed pictures of Rebecka and the children. He’d always been the centre of his parents’ lives, and they would always be at the centre of his. That was something his family had to accept.