The Drowning (47 page)

‘Don’t worry. Considering my extensive experience, I’ll be able to twist them around my little finger,’ said Mellberg, leaning back in his chair.

‘Paula and I have been out to Trollhättan, as all of you probably already know.’

‘Did you find out anything?’ asked Annika eagerly.

‘I’m not sure yet. But I think that we’re on the right track, so we’ll keep digging.’ Patrik took another sip of water. It was time to tell his colleagues what they’d discovered and what he was having such a hard time digesting.

‘As Annika found out, Christian was orphaned at a very young age. He lived alone with his mother, Anita Thydell. There’s no record of who his father was. According to information from the social welfare office, the boy and his mother were terribly isolated, and at times Anita had difficulty caring for Christian because of a mental illness she suffered from, combined with drug abuse. The authorities kept a watchful eye on Anita and her son after receiving several calls from the neighbours. But apparently the only home visits were made during the periods when Anita had the situation more or less under control. At least that was the explanation we were given for why no one intervened. And the fact that “times were different” back then,’ Patrik added without concealing the sarcasm in his voice.

‘One day when Christian was three years old, another tenant reported to the welfare office that he’d noticed a stench coming from Anita’s flat. The authorities obtained a master key, and when they went in they discovered Christian alone with his dead mother. Presumably she’d been dead about a week, and Christian had survived by eating whatever he could find in the kitchen, and drinking
water from the tap. But the food had apparently run out after a few days, because when the police and medics arrived, the boy was starving and weak. They found him huddled close to his mother’s body, only semi-conscious.’

‘Good Lord,’ said Annika, and her eyes filled with tears. Gösta was also blinking away tears, and Martin’s face had turned green. He looked like he was fighting hard not to be sick.

‘Unfortunately, Christian’s troubles didn’t end there. He was placed very quickly with a foster family, a couple by the name of Lissander. Paula and I paid them a visit today.’

‘Christian couldn’t have had an easy childhood with them,’ said Paula quietly. ‘To be honest, I got the impression that something wasn’t quite right with Mrs Lissander.’

Gösta felt something flash through his mind. Lissander. Where had he heard that name before? He somehow associated it with Ernst Lundgren, their former colleague who had been fired from the police force. Gösta tried to think what the connection could be. He considered telling everyone that the name sounded familiar, but then decided to wait until the explanation came to him on its own.

Patrik went on: ‘The Lissanders say that they’ve had no contact with Christian since he turned eighteen. That was when he apparently broke off the relationship with them and left.’

‘Do you think they’re telling the truth?’ asked Annika.

Patrik looked at Paula, who nodded.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Unless they’re very good liars.’

‘And they didn’t know of any woman who might bear some sort of grudge against Christian?’ Gösta asked.

‘They said they didn’t. But on that point I’m not sure they were being completely truthful.’

‘Did he have any brothers or sisters?’

‘They didn’t mention any, but maybe you could find out, Annika. That ought to be easy enough to research. I’ll give you all the names and information you need. Could you work on it right away?’

‘I can do it now, if you like,’ said Annika. ‘It won’t take long.’

‘Okay, great. There’s a yellow Post-it note with everything you need on the folder that’s lying on my desk.’

‘I’ll be back,’ said Annika, getting to her feet.

‘What about having a chat with Kenneth? Now that Christian is dead, he might decide to start talking,’ said Martin.

‘Good idea. So that means we have the following items on our to-do list: talk with Kenneth, and conduct a thorough search of Christian’s house. We also need to find out all the details of Christian’s life before he came to Fjällbacka. Gösta and Martin, I’d like you to talk with Kenneth, okay?’ They both nodded, and Patrik then turned to Paula. ‘You and I will drive over to Christian’s house. If we find anything of interest, we’ll call in the tech team.’

‘That sounds good,’ she said.

‘Mellberg, you’ll stay here at the station to answer any questions from the media,’ Patrik went on. ‘And Annika will keep digging into Christian’s past. At the moment we have a few facts to go on, at least.’

‘More than you thought,’ said Annika, appearing in the doorway.

‘Did you find out anything?’ asked Patrik.

‘Yes, I did,’ she said, giving her colleagues an excited look. ‘The Lissanders had a daughter two years after they took in Christian as a foster child. So he has a sister. Alice Lissander.’

‘Louise?’ Erik called, standing in the front hall. Could he be so lucky that she wasn’t at home? In that case,
he wouldn’t have to think up some excuse to get her to leave for a while. Because he needed to pack his suitcase. He felt as if he had a fever, as if his whole body was screaming at him to get out of town.

He’d taken care of all the practical matters. He’d made a reservation under his own name for a plane departing tomorrow. He hadn’t bothered to set up a false identity. That would take far too much time, and to be honest, he really had no idea how to go about it. But there was no reason to believe that anyone would try to stop him from leaving. And after he reached his destination, it would be too late.

Erik hesitated outside the upstairs rooms belonging to his daughters. He wished he could go in and have a look around, as his way of saying goodbye. At the same time, he couldn’t get himself to do it. It was easier just to focus only on what he needed to get done.

He put the big suitcase on top of the bed. It was always stored downstairs in the basement, so by the time Louise noticed it was missing, he would be far away. He planned to leave tonight. What he’d learned from talking to Kenneth had shaken him badly, and he didn’t want to stay here even a minute longer. He’d write a note to Louise saying that he had to leave on an urgent business trip. Then he’d drive to Landvetter airport in Göteborg and get a room at a nearby hotel. Tomorrow afternoon he’d be sitting in a plane, heading for southern climes. Unreachable.

Erik tossed one item of clothing after another into the suitcase. He couldn’t take much. If the chest of drawers and wardrobe were noticeably empty when Louise came home, she’d know what he was up to. But he took as much as he could. Later he could buy new clothes. Money was not going to be a problem.

While he packed, he was on the alert for Louise’s arrival,
not wanting her to surprise him. If she came home now, he’d have to shove the suitcase under the bed and pretend to be packing the small carry-on bag that he kept in the bedroom. That was the one he always took on business trips.

For a moment he paused. The memory that had surfaced now refused to sink back into oblivion. He couldn’t say that it particularly upset him. Everybody made mistakes; that was only human. But he was fascinated by the fact that someone could be driven by such a single-minded purpose. After all, it had happened so long ago.

Then he shook himself. It would do no good to brood over things. The day after tomorrow he would be safe.

The ducks came rushing towards him. By now they were old friends. He always stopped here, bringing a sack of stale bread. Now they flocked around his feet, eager for what he had to offer.

Ragnar thought about the conversation with the two police officers, and about Christian. He should have done more. He should have known, even back then. All his life he had been little more than a bystander, weak and silent, watching without intervening. Her bystander. That’s how it had been between them from the very beginning. Neither of them had been able to break the pattern they’d created.

Iréne had always been preoccupied with her own beauty. She had loved the good things in life: parties, drinks, and men who admired her. He knew all about them. Just because he’d hidden behind his inadequacies didn’t mean that he was unaware of the affairs she’d had with other men.

And that poor boy had never had a chance. Christian could never measure up, never give her what she wanted.
The boy had probably thought that Iréne loved Alice, but he was wrong. Iréne was incapable of loving anyone. She had merely seen her own reflection in her daughter’s beauty. Ragnar wished that he had spoken to the boy before they chased him away like a dog. He wasn’t sure what really happened, or what was the truth. He wasn’t like Iréne, who had accused and condemned him all in one breath.

Doubt had been gnawing at Ragnar, and it still was. But over the years the memories had faded. They had gone on living their lives. He stayed in the background while Iréne continued to believe that she was still beautiful. No one had dared tell her that her looks were gone, so she kept on behaving as if she could again be the life of the party at any moment. The woman who was both beautiful and desirable.

But it had to end. At that moment Ragnar understood why the police had come, and he realized that he’d made a mistake. A huge, fateful mistake. And now it was time to put things right.

Ragnar took Patrik’s business card out of his pocket. Then he got out his mobile and punched in the number on the card.

‘Seems like we keep driving this same road over and over,’ said Gösta as he accelerated past Munkedal.

‘And we do,’ said Martin. He cast a quizzical look at his colleague, who had been unusually quiet ever since they left Tanumshede. Gösta wasn’t a big talker at the best of times, but right now he seemed more taciturn than ever.

‘Is something wrong?’ Martin asked after a while when he could no longer stand the lack of at least sporadic conversation.

‘What? No, it’s nothing,’ said Gösta.

Martin didn’t press the issue. He knew that it would
do no good to try forcing something out of Gösta if he didn’t want to share what was on his mind. He’d reveal whatever it was in his own time.

‘What a bloody awful story. Talk about getting a rough start in life,’ said Martin. He was thinking about his little daughter and what might happen if she was subjected to such a terrible experience. It was true what everyone said about becoming a parent. It made a person a thousand times more sensitive to everything concerning children in difficult circumstances.

‘That poor little boy,’ said Gösta, and all of a sudden he looked less distracted.

‘Don’t you think we should wait to talk to Kenneth until we find out more about the sister, Alice?’

‘I’m sure Annika will double-check and triple-check everything while we’re away from the station. The first thing we need to know is where to find Alice.’

‘Couldn’t we just ask the Lissanders?’ said Martin.

‘Since they never even mentioned her existence when Patrik and Paula were there, I assume that Patrik thinks there’s something fishy about the whole situation. And it won’t hurt to find out as many facts about the family as possible.’

Martin knew that his colleague was right. He felt foolish for even asking the question.

‘Do you think she’s the one behind it all?’

‘I have no idea. It’s too early to speculate about that.’

They drove the rest of the way to the hospital in silence. After parking the car, they went straight to the ward where Kenneth was a patient.

‘We’re back,’ said Gösta as they entered his room.

Kenneth didn’t reply, just looked at them as if he didn’t care who came in.

‘How do you feel? Are your wounds starting to heal?’ asked Gösta, sitting down on the same chair as before.

‘It’s going to take a lot more time for that,’ said Kenneth, moving his bandaged arms. ‘They’re giving me painkillers. So it doesn’t really hurt much.’

‘You heard about Christian?’

Kenneth nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘You don’t seem particularly upset about it,’ said Gösta, without sounding unfriendly.

‘Not everything is visible on the outside.’

Gösta gave him a puzzled look.

‘How’s Sanna?’ asked Kenneth, and for the first time they could see a glint of something in his eyes. Sympathy. He knew what it felt like to lose someone.

‘Not so good,’ said Gösta, shaking his head. ‘We were over there this morning. It’s very sad for the boys, too.’

‘Yes, it is,’ Kenneth agreed, his face clouding over.

Martin was starting to feel superfluous. He was still standing, but now he pulled a chair over to the other side of the bed, across from Gösta. Then he glanced at his colleague, who nodded, encouraging him to ask his own questions.

‘We think that everything that has happened lately is connected to Christian, and so we’ve been delving into his background. One thing we found out is that he had a different last name when he was growing up. Christian Lissander. He also has a stepsister named Alice Lissander. Did you ever hear him talk about any of this?’

Kenneth paused before answering.

‘No. It doesn’t sound familiar.’

Gösta fixed his eyes on the man, looking as if he’d like to climb into Kenneth’s head to see if he was telling the truth or not.

‘I said this before, and I’ll say it again: If you know something that you’re not telling us, you’re putting not only your own life in danger, but Erik’s too. Now that Christian is dead, you must realize how serious this is.’

‘I don’t know anything,’ said Kenneth calmly.

‘If you’re withholding information, we’re going to dig it up sooner or later.’

‘I’m sure you’ll make a very thorough job of it,’ said Kenneth. He looked small and fragile as he lay there with his bandaged arms resting on top of the blue hospital blanket.

Gösta and Martin exchanged glances. They realized that they weren’t going to get any more out of Kenneth, but neither of them believed that he was telling the truth.

Erica closed the book. She’d spent the last few hours curled up in an armchair reading, interrupted only by Maja, who came over once in a while to ask for something. On such occasions Erica was grateful for her daughter’s ability to play by herself.