The Preacher (13 page)

Read The Preacher Online

Authors: Camilla Läckberg

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Thrillers, #Crime, #Juvenile Fiction

‘What is it, Stefan? What’s happened?’

‘Pappa.’

The rest of the sentence was drowned in sobs, and Robert strained to hear what he was saying.

‘What are you saying about Pappa, Stefan?’

Stefan took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down and then said, ‘Everyone’s going to realize now that Pappa was innocent. That he didn’t make those girls disappear. Don’t you see? People will finally know that it wasn’t him!’

‘What are you raving about?’ Robert shook him, but could feel his heart skipping a beat.

‘Mamma was in town and heard that they’d found a girl murdered, and along with her they found the girls who disappeared. Don’t you see? A girl was murdered now. So nobody can claim that it was Pappa who did it, right?’

Stefan laughed. He sounded slightly hysterical. Robert still couldn’t fully take in what he was saying. Ever since he had found his father on the floor of the barn with a noose around his neck he had dreamed and fantasized about hearing the words that Stefan was now spouting out.

‘You’re not screwing with me, are you? Because you’ll have hell to pay if you are.’

Robert clenched his fist, but Stefan merely kept laughing hysterically, and the tears ran down his face. Robert now understood they were tears of joy. Stefan turned and hugged his brother so hard that he could hardly breathe. When it dawned on Robert that his brother was speaking the truth, he hugged him back as hard as he could.

Finally their father would be vindicated. Finally they, and Mamma too, would be able to hold their heads high without hearing the whispers behind their backs and without seeing the fingers pointing in their direction when people didn’t think they were looking. Now all those people would be sorry for everything, those damned gossipmongers. For twenty-four years the town had discredited their family, but now everyone else would feel the shame.

‘Where’s Mamma?’

Robert pulled away from his brother and gave him an enquiring look. Stefan began to giggle uncontrollably. He said something incoherent as he laughed.

‘What did you say? Calm down and speak up. I asked you where Mamma is.’

‘She’s with Uncle Gabriel.’

Robert’s face clouded over. ‘What the hell is she doing with that old bastard?’

‘Telling him the truth, I think. I’ve never seen Mamma as mad as when she came back and told me what she’d heard. She went right up to the farm to give Gabriel a piece of her mind. That probably kicked some life into him. You really should have seen her. With her hair sticking straight up and smoke practically coming out of her ears.’

The image of their mother with her hair sticking straight up and puffs of smoke coming out her ears now made Robert snicker too. She had been a shambling, mumbling shadow as long as he could remember, so it was hard to imagine her as a raging fury.

‘I would have loved to see Gabriel’s face when she came storming in. And can you imagine Aunt Laine?’

Stefan did a spot-on imitation of her worried expression as she wrung her hands. In a shrill voice he declaimed, ‘But Solveig, really! My dear Solveig, you shouldn’t use such language!’

Both brothers collapsed in convulsions of laughter on the floor.

‘Do you ever think about Pappa?’ asked Stefan. His question drew them back to seriousness again, and Robert was quiet for a moment before he replied.

‘Yes, of course I do. Although I have a hard time thinking of anything but the way he looked the day he died. You should be glad you didn’t have to see him. What about you, do you think about him?’

‘Sure, all the time. But it feels like I’m watching a film, if you know what I mean. I remember how he was always happy and the way he used to joke around and dance and swing me up in the air. But I see everything from a distance, just like in a film.’

‘I know what you mean.’

They lay side by side staring up at the ceiling while the rain hammered on the sheet-metal above them.

Stefan said quietly, ‘He loved us, didn’t he, Robert?’

Robert replied just as quietly, ‘He certainly did, Stefan, he certainly did.’

* * *

Erica heard Patrik shaking out his umbrella on the front steps and heaved herself up from the sofa to meet him at the door.

‘Hello?’ he said in surprise as he looked around. Apparently he wasn’t expecting everything to be calm and quiet. Actually she should have been a bit annoyed with him because he hadn’t called her all day, but she was too glad to see him at home to be annoyed. She also knew that he was never more than a mobile phone call away, and she had no doubt that he thought about her a thousand times a day. She felt a great sense of security when she thought about their relationship. It was very comforting.

‘Where are Conny and the bandits?’ he whispered, still not sure whether they had left or not.

‘I dumped a bowl of macaroni and Falun sausage on Britta’s head, so they didn’t want to stay around any longer. Such ungrateful guests.’

Erica was amused at Patrik’s shocked expression.

‘I simply blew up. You have to draw the line somewhere. It doesn’t look like we’ll be getting any invitations from that side of the family for the next century, but it’s not anything I regret. Do you?’

‘Good Lord, no.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Did you really do that? Dump a whole plate of food on her head?’

‘Swear to God. All my good upbringing went straight out the window. Now I’ll probably never get to Heaven.’

‘Mmm, you’re a little bit of heaven yourself, so you don’t have to …’

He nibbled at her neck, right where he knew she was ticklish. She shoved him away with a laugh.

‘I’ll fix myself some hot chocolate, and then you have to tell me all about the Big Row.’ Patrik took her hand and led her into the kitchen, where he helped her lower herself onto a chair.

‘You look tired,’ she said. ‘How are things going?’

He sighed as he whipped some O’Boy into a pan of milk.

‘Well, the case was going okay, but not any more. It was lucky that the techs finished going over the crime scene before this weather arrived. If we’d found the bodies today rather than day before yesterday, there wouldn’t have been a thing left to search for. Thanks for that information you looked up for me, by the way. It turned out to be really useful.’

He sat down facing her while he waited for the chocolate to heat up.

‘And what about you, how are you doing? Everything all right with the baby?’

‘Everything’s fine with us. Our future little football star has been running riot as usual, but I had a lovely day after Conny and Britta left. That was just what I needed. I was finally able to relax and read for a while. All it took was a visit from a bunch of crazy relatives.’

‘That’s great. So I don’t have to worry about you two?’

‘No, not a bit.’

‘Do you want me to try and stay home tomorrow? Maybe I could do a little work from here – at least I’d be nearby.’

‘That’s sweet of you, but I’m doing fine, really. I think it’s more important that you concentrate on finding the murderer before the trail goes cold. I’ll be demanding your presence soon enough.’ She smiled and patted him on the hand. Then she went on, ‘Besides, a general sense of hysteria seems to be brewing. I’ve received a number of calls today from people trying to pump me about how much the police know. Naturally I wouldn’t say a word, even if I did know anything, which I don’t.’ She paused to catch her breath. ‘And the tourist bureau isn’t the only place getting a lot of cancell ations from people who don’t dare come here. A lot of the sailboat traffic has headed for other harbours. So if you haven’t yet heard from the local tourism industry, you might as well prepare yourself.’

Patrik nodded. He’d been afraid that this would happen. The hysteria was going to spread and get worse until they had someone to put behind bars. For a town like Fjällbacka that lived off the tourist trade, the homicides spelled disaster. He recalled a summer a couple of years ago when a rapist had committed four rapes during the month of July before he was finally apprehended. The town’s businesses had taken a beating, because tourists had gone elsewhere, to nearby communities such as Grebbestad and Strömstad. A murder would create an even worse situation. Fortunately it was the chief’s job to handle such matters. He was glad to let Mellberg deal with those types of issues.

Patrik rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could feel a bad headache coming on. He was about to take a pain tablet when he suddenly realized that he hadn’t had a thing to eat all day. Food was normally one of the indulgences he permitted himself in life, and an incipient bulge around his waist bore witness to that fact. He couldn’t remember when he’d last missed a couple of meals, or even one. He was too tired to cook. Instead he made a couple of open-faced sandwiches with cheese and caviar, which he dipped in his hot chocolate. As usual Erica gave him a slightly disgusted look at the sight of this gastronomically repulsive combination, but for Patrik it was sheer ambrosia. Three sandwiches later, his headache was only a memory, and he felt a new spurt of energy.

‘Sweetheart, why don’t we invite Dan and his girlfriend over this weekend?’ he said to Erica. ‘We could do a little barbecuing.’

Erica frowned and did not look overly enchanted.

‘Listen, you haven’t really given Maria a chance. How many times have you met her? Twice?’

‘All right, all right, I know. But she’s just so …’ she searched for the right word. ‘Such a twenty-one-year-old.’

‘Well, she can’t help that. I agree that she does seem a little clueless, but who knows, maybe she’s just shy? And it’s worth it to make an effort for Dan’s sake, at least. I mean, he did choose her, after all. And after the divorce from Pernilla it’s nice that he’s met someone new.’

‘It’s astounding how tolerant you’ve become lately,’ said Erica sullenly, though she had to admit that he had a point. ‘Why are you being so magnanimous?’

‘I’m always magnanimous when it comes to twenty-one- year- olds. They have such fine qualities.’

‘Oh yeah, like what?’ Erica snapped before she realized that Patrik was teasing her. ‘Oh, never mind. You’re probably right. Of course we should invite Dan and his little cutie.’

‘Listen to you.’

‘All right, all right, Dan and Maria. I’m sure it’ll be fun. I could get out Emma’s old doll house so she’ll have something to do while we grown-ups have dinner.’

‘Erica …’

‘Okay, I’ll stop. It’s just so hard to resist. It’s like some sort of tic.’

‘You wicked girl. Come here and get a hug instead of hatching your dastardly plans.’

She took him at his word and they curled up on the sofa together. For Patrik this was what made it possible for him to face the darker sides of humanity that he encountered in his work. Erica, and the thought that perhaps he could make a small contribution to ensuring the world would be a safer place for the baby now pressing the soles of its feet against his palm inside the skin stretched across Erica’s belly. Outside their windows the wind died down as twilight fell, and the colour of the sky turned from grey to flaming pink. He predicted that tomorrow it would be sunny again.

Patrik’s premonitions about sunshine turned out to be true. The next day it seemed as though the rain had never come. By noon the asphalt was steaming again. Although he was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, Martin was sweating but that was starting to feel like a normal state. Yesterday’s cool temperature was only a dream.

Martin felt a bit bewildered about how to proceed with his assignment. Patrik was in Mellberg’s office, so Martin hadn’t had a chance to confer with him yet. One problem he had was the information from Germany. The German police might get back to him at any time, and he was afraid of missing anything they might say, because of his poor knowledge of German. So the best thing would be to find someone who could help him interpret, in a three-way phone hook-up. But who would he ask for help? The interpreters Martin had worked with before had mostly been people who spoke the Baltic languages, along with Russian and Polish, because of problems with stolen vehicles that kept vanishing to those countries. He’d never needed help with German before. He took out the phone book and paged through it more or less at random, not sure what he was looking for. One heading gave him a bright idea. Considering the number of German tourists that streamed through Fjällbacka each year, the Fjällbacka tourist bureau must have someone on staff who was fluent in the language. He eagerly dialled their number.

A bright, cheerful female voice answered the phone. ‘Fjällbacka Tourist Bureau, good morning, this is Pia.’

‘Hello, this is Martin Molin at the Tanumshede police station. I wonder whether you have anyone there who’s fluent in German?’

‘Well, I suppose that would be me. What’s this about?’

Her voice sounded more and more attractive with each second, and Martin had a brilliant idea.

‘Could I come down there and discuss it with you? Do you have time?’

‘Of course. I’m going to lunch in half an hour. If you could be here by then, maybe we could meet for lunch at Café Bryggan.’

‘That sounds perfect. I’ll see you there in half an hour.’

Exhilarated, Martin hung up the phone. He wasn’t really sure what sort of foolishness had come over him, but she had such a pleasant voice.

He parked his car half an hour later outside the ironmonger’s shop and walked across Ingrid Bergman’s Square making his way through all the summer visitors. He was starting to get cold feet. This isn’t a date, this is police business, he reminded himself. But he couldn’t deny that he would be cruelly disappointed if Pia at the tourist bureau turned out to have buck teeth and weigh 450 pounds.

He headed along the wharf to the café tables and looked around. At one of the tables by the railing a young woman in a blue blouse and a colourful scarf with the tourist bureau’s logo on it was waving to him. He heaved a sigh of relief, immediately followed by a sense of triumph that he had guessed right. Pia was as sweet as a piece of chocolate. Big brown eyes and dark, curly hair. A big smile with gleaming teeth and charming dimples. This was going to be a much more pleasant lunch than shovelling down a cold pasta salad with Hedström in the lunchroom at the station. Not that he didn’t like Hedström, but his colleague was certainly no match for this peach!

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