Buried Angels (43 page)

The most important thing was to do things properly. That was what her mother always said: ‘Anything worth doing needs to be done right.’ Inez was never allowed to be sloppy. Her lessons had to be written out neatly on the lines, and the numbers in her maths book had to be correctly formed. The faint impressions left by incorrect figures were forbidden, even if they had been carefully erased. If Inez was unsure, she had to write them down on a piece of scratch paper first, before entering the correct numbers in her notebook.

It was also important not to make a mess, because any sort of disarray at home would cause something terrible. She didn’t know what that might be, but her room always had to be in perfect order. She never knew when Laura might peek inside. If anything was out of place, her mother would look so disappointed and say that she wanted to have a talk with Inez, who hated those conversations. She didn’t want to make her mother sad, and that was usually the subject of such discussions – that Inez had disappointed Laura.

She wasn’t allowed to make a mess in Nanna’s room or in the kitchen either. The other rooms in the house – her mother’s bedroom, the living room, the guest room, and the parlour – were all off-limits to the girl. She might break something, her mother explained. Children didn’t belong in there. Inez obeyed, because that made life simpler. She hated quarrels, and she didn’t like having that sort of conversation with her mother. If she did as Mamma said, she could avoid both.

In school she kept to herself, careful to do everything that was expected of her. And that clearly made her teachers happy. The grown-ups seemed pleased when children obeyed them.

Her classmates paid no attention to Inez, as if it wasn’t worth the trouble to quarrel with her. On a few occasions they had jeered at her, saying something about her grandmother, which Inez found very strange, since she didn’t have a grandmother. She had asked her mother about it, but instead of answering, Laura had decided they needed to have one of those conversations again. Inez had also asked Nanna, but she had unexpectedly pursed her lips and then said that it wasn’t her place to discuss such matters. So Inez didn’t ask any more questions. It wasn’t important enough to risk yet another conversation, and besides, Mamma knew best.

Ebba jumped on to the dock at Valö, offering effusive thanks for the lift. For the first time since she’d come here, she had a sense of anticipation and joy as she walked up the path towards the house. There were so many things she was looking forward to telling Tobias.

As she got closer, she was struck by how beautiful the house was. Of course it still needed a lot of work – in spite of all their efforts, they’d really only just begun – but it had potential. Like a white jewel, it stood there amidst all the greenery, and even though she couldn’t see the water, she knew it was all around her.

It was going to take time for her and Tobias to find their way back to each other, and their life would never be the same. But that didn’t mean that it would be worse. Maybe they’d be able to have a stronger relationship. She’d hardly dared think of such a thing before, but maybe they could also find room for a child in their life. Not while everything was still so new and fragile and they had so much work left to do, both on the house and on themselves, but maybe later Vincent could have a brother or sister. That was how she looked at it. A brother or sister for their angel-child.

And she’d managed to calm her parents’ fears. She had apologized for not telling them about everything that had happened and then persuaded them not to come rushing out to Fjällbacka. She’d also given them another call to say that she’d been learning about her biological family, and she knew they would be happy for her and understand how much it meant to her. But her adoptive parents didn’t want her to go back to the island until the police worked out what was going on. So she had told a white lie, saying that she would spend another night at Erica’s house, and that had seemed to satisfy them.

It scared her to think that someone was trying to harm them, but Tobias had chosen to stay, and now she had decided to join him. For the second time in her life, she chose Tobias. The fear of losing him was greater than her fear of some unknown person threatening them. It was impossible to control everything in life – Vincent’s death had taught her that. And it was her destiny to stay with Tobias, no matter what happened.

‘Hello?’ Ebba dropped her bag on the floor in the front hall. ‘Tobias? Where are you?’

It was very quiet in the house. She listened for sounds as she slowly went upstairs. Could he have gone to Fjällbacka on some errand? No, she’d seen the boat at the dock. There was another boat moored there too. Did they have visitors?

‘Hello?’ she called again, but she heard only her own voice echoing between the bare walls. Bright sunshine shone through the windows, lighting the dust motes that whirled through the air as she moved. She went into the bedroom.

‘Tobias?’ She stopped in surprise at the sight of her husband sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, staring straight ahead. He didn’t respond.

Ebba was instantly alarmed. She squatted down and stroked his hair. He was haggard and worn out. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

He turned to look at her.

‘You came back?’ he said in a flat voice, and she nodded.

‘Yes, and you have no idea all the things I want to tell you. I’ve had time to think while I’ve been staying with Erica. I realized something that I think you already know: that we only have each other, that we need to try. I love you, Tobias. Both of us will always carry Vincent here,’ she placed her hand on her heart, ‘but we can’t live as if we’re dead too.’

She fell silent, waiting for a reaction, but he didn’t say a word.

‘So many things fell into place when Erica told me about my family.’ She sat down next to him and eagerly began recounting the stories about Laura, Dagmar, and the Angelmaker.

When she was done, Tobias nodded. ‘The guilt has been passed down.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The guilt has been passed down,’ he repeated, his voice rising to a falsetto.

He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. Ebba reached out to smooth it down, but he knocked her hand away.

‘You’ve never been willing to admit your guilt.’

‘What guilt?’ An uneasy feeling settled over her, but she tried to shake it off. This was Tobias, her husband.

‘Guilt for Vincent’s death. How can we go on if you never will admit your guilt? But now I understand why. It’s inside of you. Your grandmother’s grandmother was a murderer of children, and you murdered our child.’

Ebba recoiled as if he’d struck her. And he might as well have done; that was how terrible his words were. He was accusing her of killing Vincent? Despair rose in her chest, and she wanted to scream at him, but she realized that something must be wrong with him. He didn’t know what he was saying. That was the only explanation. Otherwise he would never say something so dreadful to her.

‘Tobias,’ she said as calmly as she could, but he merely pointed at her and went on:

‘You’re the one who murdered him. You carry the guilt. You always have.’

‘Sweetheart, what are you talking about? You know what happened. I didn’t kill Vincent. No one is to blame for his death, and you know that.’ She grabbed Tobias by the shoulders, trying to shake some sense into his eyes.

She looked around and suddenly noticed that the bed was rumpled and had not been made. A tray on the floor held plates with leftover food and two glasses with dregs of red wine.

‘Who’s been here?’ she asked, but he didn’t answer. He merely stared at her with ice-cold eyes.

Slowly she began to slide away from him. She instinctively knew that she had to get out of here. This was not Tobias, this was someone else, and for a second she wondered how long he’d been this person that she now saw in front of her. How long had that coldness been in his eyes without her noticing?

She continued to back away.

Moving stiffly, and without taking his eyes off her, Tobias stood up. Terrified, she moved faster, trying to get to her feet, but he stretched out his hand and pushed her back down to the floor.

‘Tobias?’ she said again.

He had never laid a hand on her. Never. He was the one who always protested if she wanted to kill a spider, insisting instead that she carefully carry it outside. But that Tobias no longer existed. Maybe he had been destroyed when Vincent died. She’d just been too immersed in her own grief to notice, and now it was too late.

Tobias tilted his head to one side as he studied her, as if she were a fly caught in his web. Her heart was pounding, but she didn’t have the strength to fight back. And where could she flee? It was easier to surrender. She would go to join Vincent. Death didn’t scare her. Right now all she felt was sorrow. Sorrow that Tobias had fallen apart like this, sorrow that her hopes for the future had been so quickly shattered.

When Tobias leaned down and placed his hands around her neck, she calmly looked him in the eye. His hands were warm and their touch was so familiar. Those hands had caressed her skin so many times before. He pressed harder, and she felt her heart race. She saw flashes of light, and her body resisted, fighting for air, but by sheer force of will she made herself relax. As the darkness descended over her, she accepted her fate. Vincent was waiting for her.

Gösta was alone in the conference room. The excitement he’d felt when they discovered one passport was missing had now subsided. Maybe he was a cynic, but he couldn’t help thinking that there could be many explanations for a missing passport. Annelie’s passport could have been destroyed or lost, or it might simply have been kept elsewhere, separate from the others, and then disappeared when the house was emptied. It was still plausible that its absence was significant, but Patrik would have to work that out. In the meantime, Gösta felt an urge to go through everything one more time. He owed it to Ebba to be as thorough as possible. There might be something they’d overlooked, something they hadn’t examined sufficiently.

Maj-Britt would never have forgiven him if he failed to do all he could to help the lass. Ebba had gone back to Valö. Something dark and threatening awaited her out there, and he had to do everything in his power to prevent her from being harmed.

She’d held a special place in his heart ever since she’d clung to him on that day as she was about to leave their home. It had been one of the worst days of his life. Every detail of that morning when the social worker had come to take Ebba to her new family was imprinted in his memory. Maj-Britt had given the child a bath and combed her hair, tying it with a bow. Then she’d put the little girl into the dress with the ribbon around the waist, the dress that she’d sat up sewing for several nights in a row. Gösta had hardly been able to face the sight of Ebba on that morning, she had looked so sweet.

Fearing that his heart might break, he had planned to avoid saying goodbye, but Maj-Britt had insisted that they take a proper farewell from the lass. So he had squatted down and held out his arms, and she had come running to him, the bow in her hair fluttering and the skirt of her dress spread out like a white sail behind her. She had put her arms around his neck and held on tight, as if she knew that this would be the last time they saw each other.

Gösta swallowed hard as he cautiously took Ebba’s baby clothes out of the box that Patrik had just packed.

‘Gösta.’ Patrik was standing in the doorway.

He gave a start and turned around. He was still holding a baby jumper in his hands.

‘How did you happen to know where Ebba’s parents live in Göteborg?’ asked Patrik.

Gösta didn’t reply. Thoughts whirled through his mind, and he tried to think of some explanation. Maybe he could say that he’d seen the address somewhere. He could probably make Patrik believe him, but instead he sighed and said:

‘I was the one who sent all those cards.’

‘So you’re “G”?’ Patrik asked. ‘I can’t believe that never occurred to me before.’

‘I should have told you. I did try to bring it up a few times.’ He bowed his head in shame. ‘But I only sent cards to Ebba’s parents. The last one that Tobias brought over here was not from me.’

‘I realize that. To be honest, I’ve been wondering about that particular card. The message was so drastically different from the others.’

‘And it wasn’t a very good copy of my handwriting either.’ Gösta put down the baby sweater and crossed his arms.

‘No, it wouldn’t be easy to copy your cramped style.’

Gösta smiled, relieved that Patrik had decided to be so understanding. He wasn’t sure that he’d have been as magnanimous.

‘I know that this case has special meaning for you,’ said Patrik, as if he’d read Gösta’s mind.

‘I can’t let anything happen to her.’ Gösta turned around and began going through the contents of the box again.

Patrik didn’t move, and Gösta turned to face him. ‘It would change everything if Annelie is still alive. Or at least
was
still alive. Have you contacted Leon to say that we want to have another talk with him?’