Dark Secrets (27 page)

“Ah yes, that unfortunate incident.”

Ragnar Groth unbuttoned his jacket and sat down behind his desk, looking as if he might have eaten something unpleasant. Vanja was standing just inside the door, arms folded. She was finding it difficult to keep the anger out of her voice.

“When we were here earlier, I said that someone at this school could have been involved in Roger Eriksson’s murder. But you didn’t consider an employee who was fired because of Roger?”

The principal threw his arms wide in a gesture that managed to be both apologetic and belittling.

“No, I’m afraid not. I’m sorry. I didn’t make the connection.”

“Could you tell us a little about ‘that unfortunate incident’?”

Groth was staring with open dislike at Sebastian, who had settled down in one of the armchairs with a brochure about the school that he had found in a rack outside the principal’s office while they were waiting.

Palmlövska High. Where your opportunities begin.

“There isn’t much to tell. It became apparent that our janitor, Axel Johansson, was selling alcohol to the students. Bootlegging, you might say. Of course he was dismissed with immediate effect, and that was the end of the matter.”

“And how did you find out what he was up to?” Vanja said. Ragnar Groth gave her a weary look as he leaned forward and brushed a few specks of dust from the surface of his desk.

“That’s why you’re here, I suppose? Roger Eriksson came to me as the responsible student he was and told me what was happening. I asked a girl in one of the lower grades to call Axel and place an order. When he turned up to meet her with the goods, we caught him red-handed.”

“Did Axel know it was Roger who had given the game away?”

“I don’t know. Probably. I think several of the students knew.”

“But you didn’t report this to the police?”

“I couldn’t really see that there was anything to be gained by doing so.”

“Could it be that your reputation as ‘an outstanding educational environment, encompassing security, inspiration, and extensive developmental opportunities for each individual from a Christian point of view with underlying Christian values’ might have been slightly sullied?” Sebastian looked up from the brochure and couldn’t suppress a malicious smile. Ragnar Groth fought to keep the distaste out of his voice when he replied.

“It’s no secret that our excellent reputation is our principle resource.”

Vanja simply shook her head, unable to understand.

“So you don’t report crimes committed on school premises?”

“It was just bootlegging. Small amounts. Admittedly those involved
were underage, but even so. Axel would have been fined, wouldn’t he? If that?”

“Probably, but that’s not the point.”

“No!” Groth interrupted her sharply. “The point is that the loss of the parents’ confidence would have cost me a great deal more. It’s a question of priorities.” He stood up, buttoned his jacket, and headed for the door. “If that’s all, I have other things to do. But the receptionist will provide you with Axel Johansson’s address if you wish to speak to him.”

Sebastian was in the corridor waiting for Vanja. The walls were covered in portrait photographs of former principals and other members of staff who had earned the right to be remembered by future generations. In the middle of the display hung the only oil painting. Of Sebastian’s father. A full-length portrait. He was standing by a desk that was full of items and symbols relating to a classical education. The painting was done slightly from a worm’s eye view, so that Ture Bergman was constantly looking down on the person gazing at him.

Which probably suited him perfectly
, Sebastian thought.

Looking down on everyone and everything.

Judging.

From the very center of things.

Sebastian allowed his thoughts to wander. What kind of father had he been during the four years he had been permitted with Sabine? The answer was probably “so-so.”

Or, rather: he had been as good a father as he could, but that was still only “so-so.” In his darker moments, when Sebastian doubted his ability as a parent, he had thought it was just like when Sabine was watching TV: the quality of the program was irrelevant. As long as it was fairly colorful and moved around on the screen, she was happy. Was it the same with him? Was Sabine happy with him just because he happened to be there? She made no demands as far as the quality went. He had spent a lot of time with his daughter, there was no doubt about that.
More than Lily. It wasn’t a conscious decision based on a desire to share things equally, but more a result of their everyday lives. Sebastian had often worked from home, followed by short, intensive periods of working away, then a fair amount of time off before starting to work from home again. So yes, he had been there. And yet Sabine had still turned to Lily whenever something happened. Always Lily first. That had to mean something, surely? Sebastian refused to believe it was merely genetic. Some women he knew maintained that it was impossible to replace a mother, but that was nonsense. So he had constantly picked over his own abilities.

What had he actually given his daughter, apart from the security of always having someone there? Sebastian hadn’t found the first couple of years with Sabine all that special or—to be honest—all that much fun. No, that wasn’t true—they had been special. Dizzying. He had heard of many people who convinced themselves that nothing would change when they had children. They would carry on living their lives just as they had always done, with the minor difference that they were now parents. Sebastian hadn’t been quite that naive. He knew he would have to change his whole life. Everything he was. And he had been willing to do that. So those first years
had
been special, but he hadn’t gotten a great deal out of them. To put it crudely: Sabine gave him too little in those first years.

That’s what he had thought at the time.

Now he would give anything to get them back.

Things had improved, he had to admit. The older she got, the better things were, and he felt as if their relationship was growing and becoming closer as she developed an ability to give something back to him. But what did that show, apart from the fact that he was an egotist? He had hardly dared to think about what things would be like when she grew up.

When she started making demands.

When she became more of a person than a child. When he no longer knew best. When she could see through him. He loved her more than
anything in the world. But had she known that? Had he been able to show her that? He wasn’t sure.

He had loved Lily too. He had told her.

Sometimes.

Not nearly often enough.

He didn’t feel comfortable saying those words. Not when he was supposed to mean them, anyway. He assumed she knew that he loved her. That he showed it in other ways. He had never been unfaithful during the time he was with her. Could you show love through the things you didn’t do? Was he capable of showing it at all?

And now he was standing here, perhaps with a grown-up son or daughter somewhere. Anna Eriksson’s letter had knocked him sideways, and since then he had been operating on autopilot. He had immediately decided that he had to find her. He had to find his child. But did he, if he really thought about it? Was he really going to track down a person who was almost thirty years old, and who had lived his or her whole life without him? What would he say if he did? Anna might have lied, told the child someone else was the father. She might have said he was dead. He might just end up causing problems.

For everyone.

But mainly for himself.

Sebastian didn’t really give a damn whether it was right or wrong to go trampling into the life of an adult and turn it upside down, but what would he get out of it? Did he think there was a new Sabine waiting for him somewhere? There wasn’t, of course. No one was going to slip a hand wearing a butterfly ring into his; no one was going to fall asleep on his shoulder, drowsy and warm with sunshine. Nobody was going to cuddle up to him in bed in the mornings, snuffling almost inaudibly down his ear. The overwhelming risk was that he would be sent packing. Or, at best, clumsily embraced by a complete stranger who could never be anything more than an acquaintance. Possibly a friend, in the very-best-case scenario. He certainly didn’t have too many of those. What if he wasn’t allowed into his child’s life at all? Would he be able to
cope with that? If he was going to embark on yet another selfish course of action, then at least he ought to be sure that he would be the one who was going to benefit the most. And he was no longer sure of that at all. Perhaps he should just forget the whole thing. Sell the house, leave the investigation and Västerås, go back to Stockholm.

His thoughts were interrupted by Vanja closing the door of the office down the corridor a little too loudly; she marched toward him with rapid, angry steps.

“I’ve got an address,” she said as she passed Sebastian without slowing down.

He followed her.

“What does it take before they actually report something to the police in this place?” Vanja asked as she pushed open the doors and strode outside. Sebastian assumed this was a rhetorical question and didn’t answer. There was no need for him to do so; Vanja carried straight on.

“Seriously, how far are they prepared to go to protect the school’s reputation? Ten days before he dies Roger gets an employee fired, and Groth doesn’t even mention it. If some girl is gang raped in the bathroom, would he try to keep that quiet as well?”

Once again Sebastian assumed that Vanja wasn’t really expecting a reply, but at least he could show he was listening. Besides which, he found the question quite interesting.

“If he thought he had more to gain than to lose, then yes, absolutely. He’s not difficult to understand. His priorities are always the school and the reputation of the school. On some level it’s understandable: it’s their main selling point.”

“So when we’re told there’s no bullying here, that’s bullshit as well, is it?”

“Of course it is. Establishing hierarchies is part of human nature. As soon as we become part of a group, we have to know where we stand, and we do whatever is necessary to maintain our place or to climb higher. Sometimes it’s obvious, sometimes not. Sometimes it’s deliberate, sometimes not.”

They had reached the car. Vanja stopped by the driver’s door and turned to face Sebastian, her expression skeptical.

“I’ve worked as part of this team for several years. We don’t do anything like that.”

“That’s because your hierarchy is static, and because Billy, who is down at the bottom, has no ambition to climb higher.”

Vanja looked amused and quizzical.

“Billy’s down at the bottom?”

Sebastian nodded. It had taken him less than three seconds to work out that Billy was at the bottom of the pile.

“And where am I, according to your analysis?”

“Immediately below Torkel. Ursula allows you to occupy that position because you don’t work on the same things. She knows she’s the best in her field, so you’re not really competing with each other. If that had been the case, she would have bumped you down the ranking order.”

“Or I might have done it to her.”

Sebastian smiled at her as if she were a little girl who had unwittingly said something highly amusing.

“I think everybody should believe what they want to believe.”

He opened the passenger door and got in. Vanja stood there for a moment, trying to shake off a growing feeling of irritation. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of annoying her. She cursed herself.
Don’t start a conversation.
As long as he kept his mouth shut, he couldn’t infuriate her. Two deep breaths, then she opened the door and got in. She glanced briefly at Sebastian. Against her better judgment, she spoke to him again. She wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of having the last word, anyway.

“You don’t know us. You’re just talking shit.”

“Am I? Torkel brought me in. Billy wasn’t bothered. You and Ursula don’t really know where you are with me; you just know I’m really good, and you’ve both very clearly distanced yourselves from me.”

“And that’s because we feel threatened, is it?”

“Why else would it be?”

“Because you’re a bastard.”

Vanja started the car.
Ha! Victory!
She had the last word. And now they were going to drive to Axel Johansson’s house in complete silence, if it was up to her. It wasn’t.

“It’s important to you, isn’t it?”

Why the fuck couldn’t he just keep quiet? Vanja sighed.

“What is?”

“Having the last word.”

Vanja gritted her teeth and kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead. At least she wouldn’t have to see that smug smile on his lips as he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.