Authors: Lars Kepler
“Almira,” Elin says. “Do you have any idea where Vicky might be hiding?”
“No idea,” Almira says, and sucks on her spoon.
“Vicky is fucking dead,” Indie says. “Didn’t you hear? She killed herself and that little boy.”
“Shit!” Lu Chu exclaims. She points right at Elin. “I recognize you! Aren’t you, like, the richest woman in Sweden?”
“Cut it out,” Daniel says.
“Fuck! I swear!” Lu Chu says, and drums on the table. Then she yells right at Elin. “Give me some money!”
“Please lower your voice,” Daniel says.
“I only said I recognized her. I can say that, right?”
“Yes, you can say what you want,” Daniel says.
“We just want to ask if you have any idea where Vicky might be hiding,” Elin says.
“She kept to herself,” Daniel says. “But you girls had the chance to talk to her. You don’t have to be best friends to know something about another person. For example, I know the name of your former boyfriend, Indie.”
“We got back together,” Indie says with a grin.
“When did that happen?” asks Daniel.
“I called him yesterday. We talked for a long time,” she said.
“Wonderful. I’m happy for you,” Daniel says with a smile.
“Those last few days, Vicky tended to hang with Miranda,” Indie says.
“And with Caroline,” adds Daniel.
“Because they had All Day Lifestyle classes together,” Indie replies.
“Who is Caroline?” asks Elin.
“She’s one of the older girls,” Daniel says. “She also was in a class called Life Training with Vicky.”
“I don’t get how anyone could care about Vicky,” Almira says. “She slaughtered Miranda like a pig.”
“That’s not completely clear,” Elin tries to say.
“Not completely clear?” Almira raises her voice. “You should have seen her! She was really fucking dead! There was blood all over the place!”
“Please don’t shout,” Daniel asks.
“Well, what the fuck are we supposed to say? Are we supposed to pretend that nothing ever happened?” Indie yells. “Are we going to pretend that Miranda is still alive? That Elisabet is still alive? Or what?”
“I only meant—”
“You weren’t fucking there!” Almira screams. “Vicky turned Elisabet’s head to applesauce with a fucking hammer! You act like she’s still alive!”
“Please try to speak one at a time,” Daniel says, doing his best to keep his composure.
Indie holds up a hand as if she’s in school. “Elisabet was a fucking drug addict! I hate drug addicts and I—”
Almira grins. “Because your mother overdosed.”
“I don’t give a fuck about Elisabet! She can burn in hell for all I care!” Indie says.
“How can you say something like that?” asks Elin.
“We heard her screaming that night,” Lu Chu lies. “She called for help for a long, long time. We just stayed in bed and listened to her scream.”
“She screamed and screamed,” Almira says, smiling.
Daniel has turned away from them. The girls stop talking. Daniel says nothing and eventually he dries his face with his sleeve.
“You realize that it’s a rotten thing to do, to talk like that,” he says finally.
“But it’s fun,” Almira says.
“Do you really think so?”
“I sure do!”
“You, too, Lu Chu?”
Lu Chu shrugs.
“You don’t know?”
“No, I don’t.”
“We’ve talked about situations like this,” he says.
“Okay. I’m sorry. It was a rotten thing to say.”
Daniel tries to smile reassuringly at Lu Chu, but it only makes him look unbearably sad.
“Where is Caroline?” asks Elin.
“In her room,” Lu Chu answers.
Elin asks, “Can you show us the way?”
91
Lu Chu leads them down the ice-cold hall between the living room and the dining room with its glassed-in veranda facing the water. Beyond the living room, a second hall leads to the bedrooms. Lu Chu points out her room and Tuula’s room then stops in front of a door that has a colorful small porcelain bell hanging from the handle.
“Here’s where Caroline sleeps,” she says.
“Thank you,” Elin says.
“It’s getting late,” Daniel says. “Why don’t you brush your teeth and get ready for bed?”
Lu Chu waits for a moment and then heads off to the bathroom. When Daniel knocks on the door, the little porcelain bell rings. A young woman Elin assumes is Caroline opens the door and looks at Daniel in surprise. Then she gives him a careful hug.
“May we come in?” Daniel asks.
“Of course.” She holds out her hand to Elin. “I’m Caroline.”
Elin greets the girl, and holds her thin hand for a moment. Caroline has a pale, freckled face. She’s plucked her sand-colored eyebrows and has carefully applied makeup. Her straight hair is drawn into a thick topknot.
The wallpaper in her room is mottled and the wooden dresser by the window has been stripped. On the wall, there’s a picture of an old fisherman wearing a sou’wester, his teeth clamped on a pipe.
“We’re here to talk about Vicky,” Daniel says.
“I was Vicky’s foster mother a few years ago,” Elin explains.
“When she was small?” asks Caroline.
Elin nods. Caroline bites her lip and looks out the window.
“You know Vicky a little bit,” Elin says.
“I don’t think she trusted people,” Caroline says, and smiles. “I liked her, though. She was calm and had a sick sense of humor when she got tired.”
Elin asks straight-out, “Did she ever talk about people she knew? Friends or boyfriends?”
“We never talk about old shit. It brings us down.”
“Good things, then? What did she dream of doing when she got out?”
“We’d talk about working abroad for the Red Cross or Save the Children, but who would ever hire us?” Caroline replies.
“Did you two want to do that together?”
“We were just talking,” Caroline says patiently.
“I just thought of something,” Daniel says, rubbing his forehead. “I was off duty on Friday, but from what I understand, Miranda was in the isolation room. Do you know why?”
“She hit Tuula,” Caroline says in a matter-of-fact way.
“Why did she hit Tuula?” Elin asks.
Caroline shrugs. “Because Tuula deserved it. Tuula steals stuff all the time. She took my earrings the other day. She said they wanted to stay with her.”
“What did she take from Miranda?”
“When we were swimming, she took Vicky’s purse and she took Miranda’s necklace.”
“She took Vicky’s purse?” Elin asks.
“Yeah, she gave it back, but she took something out of it. I don’t know what. Something Vicky’s mom gave her.”
“Was Vicky angry at Tuula?” Elin asks.
“No.”
“Vicky and Caroline never get into fights,” Daniel says, and he pats Caroline’s thin arm.
“Daniel, we need you,” Caroline says. She looks anxious. “You have to take care of us.”
“I’ll be back soon,” he says. “I want to take care of you, but I’m not really in shape for—”
“You will come back, won’t you?”
“I will.”
Elin glances back as they leave the room. Caroline’s face has fallen. She looks as if she’s been completely abandoned.
92
Daniel knocks on Tuula’s door. No one answers, so they head back to the kitchen.
“Remember what I told you earlier,” Daniel says seriously.
As they pass the dining room, its table uncleared from dinner, they see the little red-haired girl. Beyond the large windows of the glass veranda, the harbor is gleaming in the darkness. The faded silver fishing huts stand in a row and are reflected in the water. It’s a beautiful view. But the girl has turned her chair away from the windows to face the wall and she’s staring right at it.
“Hello, Tuula,” Daniel says.
The girl turns her head. Her eyes are pale. Her haunted expression changes into something else, something harder to define.
“I have a fever,” she says, and turns back to face the wall.
“Nice view,” Daniel says.
“Yeah,” she says, but keeps staring at the wall.
“I need to talk to you,” Daniel says gently.
“Go ahead.”
“I want to see your face as we talk.”
“You want me to cut it off?”
“It would be easier if you turned your chair around.”
She sighs and gets up, turns her chair, and sits back down. Her face doesn’t reveal a thing.
“Last Friday, you took Vicky’s purse,” Elin says.
“What?” Tuula exclaims. “What did you say? What the fuck did you say to me?”
Daniel tries to minimize the effect of Elin’s words. “She was wondering—”
“Shut up!” screams Tuula.
They don’t say anything. Tuula presses her lips together while she rips a cuticle from her fingernail.
“You took Vicky’s purse,” Elin says again.
“You’re a fucking liar,” Tuula says. She looks at the floor. She’s trembling.
Elin leans forward and strokes her cheek. “I don’t mean—”
Tuula grabs Elin’s hair and yanks, then snatches a fork from the table and pulls back her arm to stab Elin’s face. But Daniel seizes her hand and holds on while she screams and kicks.
“Fucking bitch! I’m going to…”
Daniel holds Tuula until she quiets down. He takes her onto his lap and she finally starts to relax.
Elin has backed away.
“I know. You only borrowed Vicky’s purse,” Daniel says.
“She only had crap in there. I should have burned it all.”
“So there was nothing in her purse that said it wanted to stay with you?”
“Just the flower button.”
“It sounds lovely. May I see it?”
“A tiger is keeping watch over it.”
“Oh, my.”
“You can nail me to a wall,” Tuula whispers.
“Was there anything else that wanted to stay with you?” Daniel says.
“I should have set fire to Vicky when we were in the forest.”
Tuula keeps talking to Daniel and Elin leaves the room. The hall is dark and empty. She walks to Tuula’s bedroom and listens to make sure that Daniel is still talking to the girl. Then she opens the door.
93
Elin’s heart is racing as she enters the small room. There’s a narrow bed, a chair, a wooden dresser, and a single window. A table lamp is lying on its side on the floor, lighting the room from below. On one white wall, an embroidered hanging promises “The best thing we have is each other.”
Elin can still see Tuula licking her dry lips and shaking right before she tried to stab her face with a fork.
There’s an odd, sweet, almost rotten smell in the stale air of the room.
She hopes that Daniel realizes that she’s here and will keep Tuula occupied for a while.
The mattress is missing from the narrow bed and beneath the bed slats Elin can see a small red suitcase. Her shadow grazes the slats as she leans over and pulls it out. Inside there’s a photo album, some wrinkled clothes, a perfume bottle with Disney princesses on it, and a candy wrapper.
Elin closes the suitcase and pushes it back under the bed. She looks around the room and notices that the dresser has been moved out from the wall. The mattress and bedclothes are on the floor behind it. Tuula has been sleeping there instead of in the bed.
Elin walks over slowly, stopping for a moment when a floorboard creaks. She pulls open each dresser drawer but there are only tangled sheets and small cloth bags of lavender inside. She lifts the sheets, but there’s nothing underneath. She hears steps in the hallway. She stands still and tries to breathe without making a sound. She hears the bell ring on Caroline’s door. Then silence.
Elin waits a moment, then looks through the bedclothes behind the dresser. She lifts the mattress, and the stench of rotting food makes her rear back. On a newspaper on the floor lies a mound of old food: moldy bread, chicken bones, brown apples, sausage, and fried potatoes.
94
Tuula mumbles that she’s tired. She wiggles out of Daniel’s embrace and walks to the window. She starts to lick the glass.
“Have you ever heard Vicky say something?” asks Daniel.
“Like what?”
“That she has a hiding place somewhere or places where—”
“Nope,” Tuula says, turning toward him.
“But you like to listen to the bigger girls when they talk,” Daniel says.
“So do you,” Tuula replies.
“I know,” Daniel says. “But right now I’m having trouble remembering things. The doctor calls it ‘arousal.’”
“Is it dangerous?”
He shakes his head but he does not try to smile.
“I go to a psychologist and I get drugs for it.”
“Don’t be sad,” she says, and she cocks her head. “It was a good thing that Miranda and Elisabet were killed. There are too many people on the planet anyway.”
“I loved Elisabet, I needed her and—”
Tuula slams her head backward into the windowpane and cracks the glass.
“The best thing for me to do right now is to hide behind the dresser in my room,” she says.
“Wait a moment.”
95
Elin is on her knees at the end of the bed looking at a trunk. She can tell it’s an American chest from the name and address written on the lid in elegant lettering: “Fritz Gustavsson 1861 Harmånger.” At the beginning of the twentieth century, more than a quarter of the Swedish population emigrated to America, their belongings packed into these trunks, but perhaps Fritz never got away. Elin tries to lift the lid. She can’t get it open and breaks a nail. The trunk is definitely locked.
She hears the sound of glass shattering. Someone screams.
Elin shudders and walks to the window. There are seven small containers on the sill, some tin and others porcelain. She opens the first two. One is empty and the other has a coil of old string.
Through the small window, she can see the dark abyss of the lawn. Beyond it, light from another window falls on the outhouse and the stinging nettles beside it.
She opens another porcelain jar and sees a few old copper coins. A tin jar with a painted harlequin on the side contains a few nails and a dead bumblebee.
She glances outside again as she feels her pulse rise in her temples. Everything is quiet. All she can hear is her own breathing. The shadow of a figure passes over the nettles and Elin drops the jar. Someone could be standing outside and looking right at her. She moves away from the window and is heading for the door when she spots a small sticker on the closet door. It’s Tigger from
Winnie-the-Pooh
.