Authors: Michael Hjorth
Tags: #Mystery, #Fiction / Thrillers, #Adult, #Thriller
This realization had frightened Sebastian, but had also better equipped him for his work in helping the police track down serial
killers. He made progress in his analysis. His profiling became sharper. It was as if he had that little something extra that made him unusually well suited to understanding the psychology of a perpetrator. And it was true, of course. Deep inside, behind the academic veneer, the wide knowledge, and the intelligent comments, he was actually very similar to those he was hunting.
Arthur called back an hour later. By that time Sebastian had already rung directory inquiries and discovered that there were so many Anna Erikssons in Sweden that their computers simply said “too many matches.” He then tried restricting the query to Stockholm and was told there were 463 matches; of course, he didn’t even know if she still lived in Stockholm. Or if she had married and changed her name.
Arthur had good news and bad news. The bad news was that, according to the notes Arthur still had, no Anna Eriksson had registered in the Psychology Department in 1979. Someone of that name had started in 1980, but obviously it couldn’t be the same woman.
The good news was that he had managed to gain access to Ladok.
Of course—why hadn’t Sebastian thought of that? The system for the storage and management of higher education results had been only a few years old when he left the university. Addresses, name changes, and similar information were updated automatically from the electoral roll. And the best part of all: this information was public property. It wasn’t usually given out over the telephone, but one of the administrators at the university had made an exception for the former head of department on this early morning. He had the addresses and numbers of the three Anna Erikssons who had been registered at the university during the period in question.
Sebastian couldn’t thank Arthur enough. With the promise of an excellent dinner at one of Stockholm’s best restaurants when he was back in town, he hung up. His heart was pounding. Three Anna Erikssons.
Was one of them the right person?
The first Anna on the short list had been forty-one at the time, and Sebastian quickly dismissed her. Not that she couldn’t have been pregnant,
but he’d never been much of one for that whole MILF thing. Not at the time, anyway. These days age was less important.
Which left two. Two possible Anna Erikssons. It was a long time since Sebastian had felt such a mixture of energy, fear, and anticipation as when he picked up the phone to call the first one. She lived in Hässleholm and had been studying film. He got hold of her on her way to work. Sebastian decided to be brutally honest and told her the whole story of the letter he had found earlier that morning. She was somewhat surprised by the unexpected call and the private details so early in the morning, but still explained quite pleasantly that she had absolutely no idea who he was and that she definitely hadn’t had a child by him. She did have children, but they were born in 1984 and 1987. Sebastian thanked her and crossed her off the list.
One left.
He called her. Woke her up. Perhaps that was why she was significantly more wary. She said she didn’t know who he was. She admitted that she had studied Social Sciences and graduated in 1980, but she certainly hadn’t slept with any of the tutors in the Psychology Department. She would have remembered. And if she had gotten pregnant, she would definitely have remembered that. No, she didn’t have any children. If he had managed to find her and get hold of her telephone number after all these years, no doubt he could check on that as well. Then she hung up.
Sebastian crossed the last Anna Eriksson off his list.
He exhaled as if he had been holding his breath for the last few hours. The energy that had carried him along drained away. He sank down on a chair in the kitchen. His thoughts were all over the place. He needed to get them in some kind of order.
So the Anna Eriksson he was looking for had not been a student. That made things more difficult. But she had some link to the university; she had written that they had met there. So what was it? Had she been a tutor, a temporary lecturer, or just a friend of someone who was studying there? Perhaps they had met at a party?
Lots of possibilities.
No answers.
A name, an address, a year, and a link to his time at Stockholm University—that was all. He didn’t even know her age—that might have helped a bit. But he needed to know. More. Everything. For the first time in ages Sebastian felt something other than the endless weariness that had been his companion for so long. It wasn’t hope, but it was something. A small connection with life. He recognized the feeling. Lily had given it to him, the sense of a context. Of belonging to something. In the past Sebastian had always felt alone, as if he were living alongside life and other people. Lily had changed that. She had found her way inside him, got past his wall of attitude and intelligence, and touched him as no one else had done. She saw through him. Forgave his stumbles but made demands. That was something new for Sebastian.
Love.
He had stopped screwing around. It had been a struggle, but somehow, in some magical way, Lily had always managed to find the words to console him in his moments of doubt or despair. Suddenly he realized that she hadn’t been the only one who was fighting for them. He had been part of it too. Before her, he had always searched for a way out; and then he wanted to find the way forward. It had been a wonderful feeling. He had no longer been the lone soldier; they were together. When Sabine was born that August day, he was enveloped by life. He had felt complete. He was a part of something. He was not alone.
The tsunami had changed all that. Ripped away every connection, every finely woven thread linking him to everything else. Once again he had stood alone.
Lonelier than ever.
Because now he knew how life could feel.
How it ought to feel.
Sebastian went out onto the deck. He felt strangely uplifted. As if a life raft had suddenly been thrown in his direction. Should he grab it? No doubt it would end badly. No doubt at all. But that morning he felt
something bubbling up inside him that he hadn’t felt for a very long time—an energy, a desire. Not for sex, not for conquest, but for life. He would go along with it. After all, he was already doomed. So he had nothing to lose. Only something to gain. He had to know.
Did he have another child?
He had to find this Anna Eriksson. But how? Suddenly he was struck by an idea. There were those who could help him. But it wouldn’t be easy.
T
ORKEL AND
Ursula arrived in the hotel dining room for breakfast at the same time, but they didn’t come down together. When Ursula spent the night in Torkel’s hotel room she set the alarm for 4:30 a.m., got up as soon as it went off, dressed, and went back to her own room. Torkel also got up and said good-bye to her in the doorway, fully dressed and perfectly correct. If anyone should be passing in the corridor at such an ungodly hour, it would look as if two colleagues had been working all night and one of them was now heading back to her room for a few hours’ well-earned sleep. The fact that they had met on the stairs this morning and arrived in the dining room at the same time was, therefore, pure chance. They also heard the shrill whistle at the same time, and looked over at one of the tables by the window. Sebastian was sitting there. He raised a hand in greeting. Torkel heard Ursula sigh as she left his side, pointedly turned her back on Sebastian, and busied herself with the breakfast buffet.
“Over here, Torkel! I’ve got you a coffee!” Sebastian’s voice filled the dining room. The guests who had shown no interest when he whistled were now paying attention. Torkel marched over to the table.
“What do you want?”
“I want to get back to work. With you. With that boy.” Torkel looked at Sebastian for some sign that he was joking. When he couldn’t see any such thing, he shook his head.
“It’s impossible.”
“Why? Because Ursula doesn’t want me around? Come on, give me two minutes.”
Torkel looked over at Ursula, who still had her back to them. He pulled out a chair and sat down. Sebastian pushed a cup of coffee across to him. Torkel glanced at his watch and put his head in his hands.
“Two minutes.”
There was a brief silence as Sebastian waited for Torkel to go on. Ask a question. He didn’t.
“I want to get back to work. With you. With that boy. What was it you didn’t understand about that?”
“But
why
do you want to get back to work? With us. With that boy.” Sebastian shrugged his shoulders and took a swig of coffee from the cup on the table in front of him. “Personal reasons. My life is… a little fluid at the moment. My therapist says routine would be good for me. I need discipline. Focus. Besides which, you need me.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You’ve completely gotten off track.”
Torkel should be used to this. How many times had he or his colleagues put forward a theory or sketched out a scenario, only to be shot down in flames by Sebastian? In spite of this, Torkel still caught himself feeling annoyed at his former colleague’s casual dismissal of all their work so far. Work he knew nothing about.
“Have we?”
“The neighbor’s kid didn’t do it. The body was moved to a remote and pretty clever dump site. The attack on the heart seems almost ritualistic.” Sebastian leaned in close and lowered his voice. “The murderer is more sophisticated and considerably more mature than a bully who can hardly get himself to school.”
He leaned back with his coffee cup and met Torkel’s gaze over the rim. Torkel pushed back his chair.
“We know, that’s why we’ll be releasing him today. And the answer to your question is still ‘no.’ Thanks for the coffee.”
Torkel stood up and pushed his chair in. He could see that Ursula
had sat down at a window table farther down the room and was about to go and join her when Sebastian put down his cup and raised his voice.
“Do you remember when Monica was unfaithful? All that business of your divorce.” Torkel stopped and turned back to Sebastian, who met his gaze with a relaxed expression. “Your first divorce, that is.”
Torkel stood in silence, waiting for the follow-up he knew was inevitable.
“You really were in bad shape then, weren’t you?”
Torkel didn’t answer, but gave Sebastian a look that made it clear he didn’t want to talk about that. A look that Sebastian ignored completely.
“I’d put money on the fact that you wouldn’t be the boss today if someone hadn’t covered up for you in the dark days of that autumn. The whole fucking year, in fact.”
“Sebastian…”
“What do you think would have happened if someone hadn’t got the reports in on time? Fixed your mistakes? Carried out damage control?”
Torkel put both hands on the table, palms down.
“I don’t know what you’re up to, but this has to be some kind of personal low. Even for you.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Threats? Blackmail? What is it I don’t understand?”
Sebastian didn’t say anything for a moment. Had he gone too far? He really did need to get into this investigation. And he did actually like Torkel—or he used to, once upon a time long ago, in a different life. The memory of that life made Sebastian try, at least. A more friendly tone this time.
“I’m not threatening you. I’m asking you. For a favor.” Sebastian looked up and met Torkel’s gaze, his face open. In his eyes there was an honest plea that Torkel couldn’t remember ever seeing from Sebastian
before. But he was still trying to shake his head when Sebastian got in first.
“A favor for a friend. If you know me half as well as you think you do, then you know I would never ask you like this unless I really needed it.”
They had gathered in the conference room at the station. Ursula had given Torkel a particularly nasty look when she had walked in and seen Sebastian ensconced in one of the chairs. Vanja appeared mostly puzzled by the presence of this unknown person when she arrived; she introduced herself, but Sebastian thought he noticed her inquiring expression change to open dislike when he told her his name. Had Ursula been holding forth about him?
Of course she had.
Talk about an uphill struggle.
The only person who had shown no obvious reaction to his presence was Billy, who was sitting at the table with his 7-Eleven breakfast. Torkel knew there wasn’t actually a good way of saying what he was about to say. The simplest approach was often the best. So he said it as simply as he could.
“Sebastian is going to be working with us for a while.”
Brief silence. An exchange of glances. Surprise. Anger.
“Is he?” Torkel could see Ursula’s jaw hardening as she clenched her teeth. She was professional enough not to call Torkel an idiot and have a go at him in front of the team, even though he was convinced that was what she really wanted to do. He had let her down. Twice. For a start, he had brought Sebastian back into her professional life, but, worse than that, he had said nothing about his plans during breakfast or while they were walking to the station together. Yes, she was angry. With good reason. He would be sleeping alone during the rest of this investigation. Perhaps longer.