The Lost Boy (Patrick Hedstrom and Erica Falck, Book 7) Read online

  Leila took a deep breath. ‘Why have you come here to ask questions about Matte? It was months ago that he left.’

  ‘Has anyone been in touch with him since then?’ asked Patrik, ignoring her question.

  ‘No. We didn’t socialize outside of work, so we lost touch after he left. But now I really want to know why you’re asking all these questions.’ Her voice rose slightly, and her hands were clasped on top of her desk.

  ‘Mats was found dead the day before yesterday. Shot.’

  Leila gasped. ‘That can’t be true.’

  ‘I’m afraid it is,’ said Patrik. Leila’s face had turned white, and he wondered whether he ought to go and get her a glass of water.

  She swallowed hard, trying to pull herself together, but her voice shook as she asked ‘Why? Do you have any idea why?’

  ‘At this point we’re dealing with an unknown perpetrator.’ Patrik heard himself, as usual, switch to dry police jargon, which he did whenever the situation became emotionally charged.

  ‘Is there any connection to …?’ Leila was too shaken to complete the sentence.

  ‘At the moment we don’t know,’ Paula told her. ‘We’re simply trying to find out more about Mats. To find out whether there was anyone in his life who had a motive for killing him.’

  ‘Running an organization of this kind,’ said Patrik, ‘I assume that you’re accustomed to receiving threats.’

  ‘Yes, we are,’ said Leila. ‘Although the threats are usually directed at the women rather than at us. Besides, Mats dealt primarily with the financial side of things, so he was the contact staff member for only a handful of women. And as I said, he left more than three months ago. I have a hard time seeing why …’

  ‘You don’t recall any incidents from the time he was working here? Was there any situation that stands out, any threat directed specifically at him?’

  Again Patrik thought he saw a flash in her eyes, but it vanished so swiftly that he assumed he must have imagined it.

  ‘No, not really. Matte mostly worked in the background. He took care of the account books. Debits and credits.’

  ‘How much contact did he have with the women who sought help from your group?’ asked Paula.

  ‘Very little. He mainly dealt with administrative issues.’ Stunned by the news of Mats’s death, Leila could only stare at Patrik and Paula in bewilderment.

  ‘Then I don’t think we have any further questions at this time,’ said Patrik. He put one of his business cards on Leila’s orderly desk. ‘If you or anyone else happens to think of anything, don’t hesitate to give me a call.’

  Leila nodded and picked up his card. ‘Absolutely.’

  After they said goodbye, the heavy steel door fell shut behind them.

  ‘What do you think?’ asked Patrik quietly as they went down the stairs.

  ‘I think she’s hiding something,’ said Paula.

  ‘I do too.’

  Patrik had a grim expression on his face. They were going to have to take a closer look at the Refuge.

  FJÄLLBACKA 1871

  A strange mood had hovered over the house all day long. Karl and Julian took turns tending to the lighthouse, but the rest of the time they had been avoiding her. Neither of them would look her in the eye.

  The others also seemed to sense something ominous in the air. They were more present than usual, suddenly turning up, only to vanish just as swiftly. Doors slammed, and she heard footsteps overhead that stopped as soon as she went upstairs. They wanted to tell her something, she realized that, but she couldn’t work out what it might be. Several times she felt someone breathing against her cheek and someone touching her shoulder or arm. A feather-light touch on her skin, but as soon as it disappeared, she thought she must have imagined it. Yet she knew it was real – just as real as the feeling that she needed to flee.

  Emelie stared at the ice with longing. Maybe she ought to venture out on it. As soon as that thought occurred to her, she felt a hand on her back that seemed to be nudging her towards the front door. Was that what they wanted to say? That she should leave while she still could? But she lacked the courage. Aimlessly she wandered through the house. Cleaning, tidying up, and trying not to think. It felt as if the absence of those malevolent glances from the two men was more foreboding and frightening than their stares.

  All around her the others were trying to catch her attention. They wanted to make her listen, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t understand. She felt hands touching her, she heard footsteps impatiently following her everywhere she went, but the agitated whisperings, all those words jumbled on top of each other, were impossible to decipher.

  As dusk fell, she found herself shaking all over. She knew that Karl would soon take the first shift in the lighthouse, and she needed to hurry to get dinner ready. Without thinking, she prepared the salted fish. As she poured out the water from the potatoes, her hands shook so badly that she almost scalded herself.

  They sat down at the table, and suddenly she heard a thudding sound overhead. The sound got louder, more insistent. Karl and Julian didn’t seem to hear it, but they stirred uneasily as they sat on the kitchen bench.

  ‘Get out the schnapps,’ said Karl, his voice cracking. He nodded at the cupboard where the liquor was kept.

  She didn’t know what to do. Even though they usually came back from Abela’s tavern as drunk as skunks, they rarely drank at home.

  ‘Schnapps, I said!’ Karl growled, and Emelie quickly got up. She opened the cupboard and took out the bottle, which was nearly full. She set it on the table and then got out two glasses.

  ‘A glass for you too,’ said Julian. His eyes glittered with a look that sent shivers down her spine.

  ‘I’m not sure if I …’ she stammered. She seldom drank spirits. On a few occasions she had tasted a tiny bit, just enough to know that she didn’t care for it.

  Annoyed, Karl got up and took another glass out of the cupboard, slamming it down on the table in front of Emelie. Then he filled it to the brim.

  ‘I don’t want to …’ Her voice broke, and she felt herself trembling more than ever. No one had touched the food. Slowly she raised the glass to her lips and took a sip.

  ‘Drink it down,’ said Karl. He took his place again, and poured an equal amount for himself and for Julian. ‘Drink it all down. Now.’

  From upstairs the thudding sound was growing louder. She thought about the ice that stretched all the way to Fjällbacka. The ice would have been able to carry her to safety if only she had listened, if only she had dared. But now it was dark, and it was no longer possible to flee. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder, a brief touch telling her that she was not alone.

  Emelie lifted her glass and downed the schnapps. She had no choice; she was a captive here. She didn’t know why, but that was the way it was. She was their prisoner.

  Karl and Julian emptied their glasses when they saw that she had finished hers. Then Julian reached for the bottle and filled her glass again, all the way to the top. The liquid spilled over the side and on to the table. They didn’t have to say a word; she knew what she had to do. As they filled their own glasses, they kept their eyes fixed on her, and she realized that no matter what else happened she would be forced to raise her glass, again and again.

  After a while the whole room seemed to be spinning, and she felt them taking off her clothes. She let them do it. The alcohol had made her limbs heavy, and she was unable to offer any sort of resistance. And while the thudding overhead got so loud that the sound filled her head, Karl lay down on top of her. Then came the pain and the darkness. Julian gripped her by the arms, and the last thing she saw was his eyes. They were filled with hatred.

  10

  It was a brilliantly sunny Friday morning. Erica turned over in bed and put her arm around Patrik. He had come home late. By then she had already gone to bed and managed only to mutter a sleepy ‘Hi’ before she fell asleep again. But now she was awake, and she felt such a longing
for him, for his body and the sort of intimacy that had occurred far too seldom during the past few months. She sometimes wondered when they’d find their way back to it. These years were passing much too quickly. Everyone had told her that the early childhood years were especially tough, that they could be hard on a marriage, and that it might be difficult for a wife and husband to feel close to one another. Now that she was in the midst of it all, she agreed, but only partially. Of course things had been hard when Maja was a baby. But her relationship with Patrik hadn’t changed for the worse since the twins were born. After the accident the bond between them had grown stronger than ever, and she knew that nothing could tear them apart. But she missed the intimacy. It was something they just didn’t get around to, what with all the nappies that had to be changed, the meals that had to be cooked, and the constant chore of dropping off and picking up their daughter at day-care.

  Patrik lay with his back to her. She crept close to him. It was one of the rare mornings she had woken of her own accord rather than because a child was crying. She pressed closer, sliding her hand inside his underwear. Slowly she began stroking him, feeling his response. Patrik still hadn’t moved, but she could hear his breathing change and knew that he was awake. He was breathing harder. She was enjoying the warm feeling that spread through her body. Patrik turned over to face her. As they looked into each other’s eyes, she felt a tingling in her stomach. Gently he began kissing her throat. She uttered a faint moan as she stretched her neck so that he could reach the spot behind her ear that was so sensitive.

  Their hands began wandering, and he slipped off his underwear. She quickly removed the T-shirt she slept in and with a giggle pulled off her knickers.

  ‘It’s been a while,’ murmured Patrik as he continued to nibble the back of her neck, making her squirm.

  ‘Mmmm, I think we need a little more practice.’ Erica ran her fingertips along his spine. Patrik turned her over on her back and was just about to lie down on top of her when a familiar sound issued from the room across the hall.

  ‘Waaaaa!’ A shrill voice followed by another, and then they heard feet padding along the hall. Maja was standing in the doorway with her thumb in her mouth and her favourite doll under her arm.

  ‘The babies are crying,’ she said with a frown on her face. ‘Get up, Mamma. Get up, Pappa.’

  ‘Okay, okay, we’re coming, you little munchkin.’ With a heavy sigh Patrik rolled out of bed. He quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and headed for the nursery after casting an apologetic glance at Erica.

  The lovemaking was over for the day. She pulled on her jogging suit, which lay on the floor next to the bed, and then followed Maja downstairs to the kitchen to make breakfast for them, and prepare bottles of formula for the twins. Her body was still warm, but the tingling feeling had vanished.

  But when she looked up and saw Patrik coming down the stairs holding a newly awakened baby in each arm, she felt the tingling again. She really loved that husband of hers.

  ‘We didn’t come up with anything particularly useful,’ said Patrik when everyone was present. ‘On the other hand, there are some new questions that we need to answer.’

  ‘So you didn’t find out any more about the assault?’ asked Martin, looking disappointed.

  ‘No, according to the police there were no witnesses to the attack. The only thing they had to go on was Mats Sverin’s own statement that he didn’t know the group of kids who assaulted him.’

  ‘You don’t sound too convinced by that,’ said Martin.

  ‘We discussed it on the way home,’ said Paula. ‘We both had the feeling that there’s more to the story, so we need to do some digging.’

  ‘Are you sure that wouldn’t be a waste of time?’ asked Mellberg.

  ‘I can’t guarantee it, but we think it would be worth our while taking a closer look,’ said Patrik.

  ‘What did you find out at Sverin’s former workplace?’ asked Gösta.

  ‘Nothing much of interest there either. At least, not directly. But we plan to keep that avenue open too. We talked to the director of the organization, and she seemed upset to hear of Mats’s death, but she wasn’t … how should I put it?’

  ‘She didn’t seem terribly surprised,’ Paula interjected.

  ‘Another of your feelings?’ said Mellberg, sighing heavily. ‘Bear in mind that the station has limited resources. We can’t be running off in all directions and doing whatever we like. Personally, I think it’s a waste of effort to be sniffing around the victim’s life in Göteborg. My long experience on the force has taught me that the answer is often to be found closer to home. For example, have we taken a good hard look at his parents? I take it you’re all aware of the statistics – most murders are committed by a relative or someone close to the victim.’

  ‘Yes, well, in this case I don’t consider Gunnar and Signe Sverin to be at the top of our list of candidates.’ Patrik restrained himself from rolling his eyes.

  ‘I don’t think that they should be ruled out so quickly. You never can tell what secrets a family might be hiding.’

  ‘True, but in this particular instance, I don’t agree.’ Patrik crossed his arms as he leaned against the kitchen counter and swiftly changed the subject. ‘Martin and Annika, did you come up with anything?’

  ‘No, everything seems in order. There’s nothing out of the ordinary about Mats Sverin in the public records. He never married, and he’s not listed as the father of any children. After he moved away from Fjällbacka, he was registered at three different addresses in Göteborg. The last one was on Erik Dahlbergsgatan. The lease on that flat was still in his name, but he had sublet it to another tenant. He had taken out two loans: a student loan and a car loan. Nothing unusual about the payments. He’d owned a Toyota Corolla for the past four years.’ Martin paused to consult his notes. ‘His employment record matches the information we already have. He was never convicted of any sort of crime. That’s as much as we’ve been able to find out. Judging by the public records, Sverin seems to have led a completely normal life with nothing remarkable to report.’

  Annika nodded her agreement. They had hoped to find more, but this was all they’d been able to track down.

  ‘Okay, at least we know that much,’ said Patrik. ‘But we still need to search Sverin’s flat. Who knows what we might find there?’

  Gösta cleared his throat. Patrik gave him an enquiring look.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Er, well …’ Gösta began.

  Patrik frowned. It was never a good sign when Gösta cleared his throat.

  ‘What are you trying to say?’ Patrik wasn’t sure he really wanted to know, since his colleague was obviously having a hard time spitting out the words. When Gösta cast an entreating glance at Mellberg, Patrik felt his stomach lurch. Gösta and Bertil did not make a good combination.

  ‘The thing is … Torbjörn phoned yesterday while you were in Göteborg.’ Gösta fell silent, swallowing hard.

  ‘Yes?’ Patrik repeated. He had to stop himself from stepping forward to shake the words out of the man.

  ‘Torbjörn turned over the flat to us yesterday. And we know how you hate to waste time, so Bertil and I thought we might as well go over there and have a look around.’

  ‘You did what?’ Patrik grabbed hold of the edge of the counter, forcing himself to breathe calmly. He remembered all too well the feeling of pressure in his chest, and he knew that under no circumstances should he allow himself to get upset.

  ‘There’s no reason to react that way,’ said Mellberg. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the boss of this station. Which means that I’m your superior officer, and I made the decision to go over to the flat.’

  Though Patrik realized that Bertil was right, that didn’t make it any easier to bear. Mellberg might be the official police chief, but in reality Patrik had undertaken that role ever since Mellberg had arrived at the station when he was transferred from Göteborg.

  ‘What did you find?�
�� he asked after a moment.

  ‘Not much,’ Mellberg admitted.

  ‘The flat felt more like a temporary residence than somebody’s home,’ said Gösta. ‘There were hardly any personal possessions. In fact, I’d say none.’

  ‘Seems a bit odd,’ said Patrik.

  ‘His laptop is missing,’ Mellberg added, as he scratched Ernst behind the ear.

  ‘His laptop?’

  Patrik’s irritation grew. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Of course Mats Sverin would have a laptop, and it should have been one of the first things he asked the crime-scene techs about. He silently cursed himself.

  ‘How can you be certain that it’s missing?’ he went on. ‘Maybe it’s at the office. Maybe he didn’t have a computer at home.’

  ‘Apparently he had only one computer,’ said Gösta. ‘And we found a cord for a laptop in the kitchen. Plus Erling has confirmed that Sverin had a laptop that he used for work and usually took home with him.’

  ‘So you’ve had another talk with Erling?’

  Gösta nodded. ‘I went over there yesterday after we were done at the flat. He seemed concerned that the computer is missing.’

  ‘I wonder if the killer took it. And if so, why?’ said Martin. ‘By the way, has anyone found Sverin’s mobile phone? Has that disappeared too?’

  Patrik swore again. Yet another thing that he’d missed.

  ‘Maybe there’s something on his computer that might reveal a motive for the murder or who the killer is,’ said Mellberg. ‘If we can just locate the computer, we’ll have the whole case sewn up.’

  ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,’ said Patrik. ‘We have no idea where the laptop might be, or who could have taken it. But we definitely need to locate it, as well as his mobile. Until then, let’s not jump to conclusions.’

  ‘If we ever find it,’ said Gösta. Then his face lit up. ‘Erling said that Sverin was concerned about something in the accounts. He was going to meet with a man named Anders Berkelin, who’s in charge of finances at Badis. Maybe he has the laptop. They were working together on the project, so it’s possible that Sverin left the computer with him.’