Patrick Hedstrom 07: The Lost Boy Read online

  Erica reached out and put her hand on her sister’s shoulder. Anna didn’t brush it away.

  Filled with a restless energy, Nathalie began cleaning the house. It had helped to air out the place, but the stuffy smell still clung to the curtains and bed linens. She threw them all into a big laundry basket, which she lugged down to the dock. Equipped with some laundry detergent and the old scrubbing-board that had been in the house for as long as she could remember, she rolled up her sleeves and began the hard work of doing the wash by hand. Every once in a while she would glance up towards the cottage to make sure that Sam hadn’t awakened and come running outside. He’d been asleep for an unusually long time. Maybe it was in response to the shock. In that case, it was probably best to let him sleep. One more hour, she decided, and then she’d wake him up and see to it that he got something to eat.

  Suddenly Nathalie realized that there actually wasn’t much food in the house. She hung the laundry on the clothesline outside and then went in to have a look at the pantry. All she found was a tin of Campbell’s tomato soup and a tin of Bullen’s pilsner sausages. She didn’t dare look at the expiry dates. Surely that sort of tinned food would last for ever? Regardless, she and Sam would have to settle for that today.

  There was no temptation to go into town. She felt safe here. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. She wanted to be left in peace. Nathalie paused to consider the situation as she held the soup tin in her hand. There was only one solution. She would have to call Gunnar. He had looked after the house for her after her parents died, and she could undoubtedly ask him for help. The landline no longer worked, but she was able to get good reception on her mobile, so she tapped in his number.

  ‘SVERIN.’

  The name stirred up so many memories that Nathalie gave a start. It took a few seconds before she composed herself enough to speak.

  ‘Hello? Is anyone there?’

  ‘Yes. Hi. It’s Nathalie.’

  ‘Nathalie!’ exclaimed Signe Sverin.

  Nathalie smiled. She had always loved Signe and Gunnar, and the feeling was mutual.

  ‘Sweetie, is that really you? Are you calling from Stockholm?’

  ‘No, I’m here on the island.’ To her surprise she felt the words catch in her throat. She’d slept only a few hours, and fatigue must be making her overly sensitive. She cleared her throat. ‘I got here yesterday.’

  ‘But, my dear, you should have warned us so we could go out there and do some cleaning. The place must look terrible, and—’

  ‘Don’t worry about the cleaning.’ Nathalie interrupted Signe’s torrent. She’d forgotten how much she talked, and how fast. ‘You’ve kept everything so nice out here. And it did me good to clean up a bit and do the laundry.’

  Signe snorted. ‘Well, you could have at least asked for help. We’ve got nothing to occupy ourselves these days, Gunnar and I. Not even any grandchildren to look after. But Matte has moved home from Göteborg. He’s got a job working for Tanum council.’

  ‘That’s nice for you. Why did he decide to do that?’ She pictured Matte. Blond, tanned, and always cheerful.

  ‘I don’t really know. It all happened rather fast. He was involved in an accident, and afterwards I had the impression that … No, it’s nothing. Don’t pay any attention to an old woman who talks too much. So what’s on your mind, Nathalie? Is there something we can do for you? And do you have the little guy with you? It would be so nice to see him.’

  ‘Yes, of course, Sam is here. Only he’s not feeling very well.’

  Nathalie fell silent. Nothing would make her happier than to introduce Signe to her son. But not until they were settled on the island; not until she saw what effect the recent events might have had on him.

  ‘That’s why I thought I’d ask for your help. We don’t have much food out here, and I don’t want to make Sam get up so we could go into—’

  Before she could finish her sentence, Signe interrupted.

  ‘But of course we’d love to help. Gunnar is taking the boat out this afternoon anyway, and I can do your grocery shopping for you. Just tell me what you need.’

  ‘I can pay Gunnar back in cash, if you wouldn’t mind buying the food for me.’

  ‘Absolutely. That’s no problem, dear. So, what should I add to my shopping list?’

  Nathalie could picture Signe putting on her reading glasses, sliding them down to the very tip of her nose as she reached for pen and paper. Gratefully Nathalie rattled off everything she could imagine they might need. Including a bag of sweets for Sam. Otherwise things could get difficult when Saturday arrived. He always kept track of the weekdays, and on Sunday he was already counting down to the next bag of Saturday sweets.

  When she finished the phone conversation, Nathalie considered waking Sam. But something told her that she should let him sleep another hour.

  Nobody was doing any work at the police station. Displaying a sensitivity that was unusual for him, Bertil Mellberg had asked Patrik whether he wanted his colleagues to attend the funeral. Patrik had merely shaken his head. He’d only been back on the job a few days, and everyone was tiptoeing around him. Even Mellberg.

  Paula and Mellberg had been the first officers to arrive at the scene of the accident. When they caught sight of the two cars, crumpled beyond recognition, they didn’t think that anyone could have survived the crash. They peered in one of the windows and immediately recognized Erica. Only half an hour earlier an ambulance had come to the station to take Patrik to the hospital, and now his wife was dead, or at least seriously injured. The medics were unable to specify what the extent of her injuries might be, and it seemed to take an unbearably long time for the fire brigade to cut open the car.

  Martin and Gösta were busy with another case and only heard about the accident and Patrik’s collapse several hours later. They drove to the hospital in Uddevalla and spent the whole evening pacing the corridors. Patrik was in Intensive Care, and both Erica and her sister Anna, who had been seated next to her in the car, underwent emergency surgery.

  But now Patrik was back on the job. Thankfully he hadn’t had a heart attack, as was first thought; instead, he’d suffered a vascular spasm. After nearly three months on sick leave, the doctors had given him permission to return to work, although with strict orders to avoid stress. As if that’s going to be possible, thought Gösta. With newborn twins at home, and considering what happened to Erica’s sister. The devil himself would be stressed in that situation.

  ‘Do you think we should have gone anyway?’ asked Martin, stirring his coffee. ‘Maybe Patrik said no but he really wanted us to attend the funeral.’

  ‘No, I think Patrik meant what he said.’ Gösta scratched Ernst, the station’s dog, behind one ear. ‘I’m sure there are plenty of people at the church. We can do more good here.’

  ‘How can you say that? We haven’t heard a peep from anyone all day.’

  ‘It’s the calm before the storm. By July you’ll be longing for a day without any drunks, burglaries, or other sorts of trouble.’

  ‘That’s true,’ said Martin. He’d always been the newbie at the station, but he no longer felt like such a beginner. By now he’d had a few years of experience on the police force, and he’d participated in several investigations that had been very difficult, which was putting it mildly. He had also become a father, and he felt as if he’d grown several inches the minute that Pia gave birth to their daughter.

  ‘Did you see the invitation we received?’ Gösta reached for a Ballerina biscuit and began his usual routine of meticulously separating the vanilla top from the chocolate bottom.

  ‘What invitation?’

  ‘Apparently we’re going to have the honour of acting as guinea pigs at that new place they’re building in Fjällbacka.’

  ‘You mean at the Badis Hotel?’ Martin woke up a bit.

  ‘That’s right. Erling’s new project. Let’s just hope that it goes better than all that Sodding Tanum nonsense.’

  ‘I think it s
ounds great. Lots of guys laugh at the idea of having a facial, but I had one in Göteborg and it was bloody marvellous. My skin was as smooth as a baby’s bottom for weeks afterward.’

  Gösta gave his colleague a disgusted look. A facial? Over his dead body. Nobody was going to smear a load of muck all over his face. ‘Well, we’ll have to see what they’re offering. I’m hoping for at least some fancy grub. Maybe a dessert buffet.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ laughed Martin. ‘Places like that are usually more concerned with getting people to stay in shape than stuffing themselves with food.’

  Gösta looked offended. His weight was exactly the same as when he finished secondary school. With a snort, he helped himself to another biscuit.

  Chaos reigned when they arrived home. Maja and Lisen were jumping on the sofa, Emma and Adrian were fighting over a DVD, and the twins were crying at the top of their lungs. Patrik’s mother looked as if she might jump off a cliff at any second.

  ‘Thank God you’re home,’ she exclaimed as she handed Patrik and Erica each a screaming baby. ‘I don’t know what got into these kids. They’ve been crazy. And I tried to feed the babies, but every time I fed one of them, the other would start crying, and then the first one would get distracted and couldn’t eat and would start crying too …’ She fell silent, trying to catch her breath.

  ‘Sit down, Mamma,’ said Patrik. He went to get a bottle for Anton, whom he was holding in his arms. The boy’s face was beet-red, and he was crying as loudly as his tiny body would allow.

  ‘Could you bring a bottle for Noel too?’ asked Erica as she tried to comfort her shrieking son.

  Anton and Noel were still so small. Not like Maja, who had been big and robust right from the start. Yet the boys were actually enormous in comparison to their size at birth. Like tiny birds, they had lain in separate incubators, their thin arms hooked up to various tubes. They were fighters, according to the nurses at the hospital. And they had quickly gained weight, for the most part exhibiting a good appetite. But Erica and Patrik couldn’t help worrying about them.

  ‘Thanks.’ Erica took the bottle that her husband handed to her and sat down in an armchair, holding Noel. He greedily began drinking the formula. Patrik sat down in the other armchair with Anton, who stopped crying as swiftly as his brother. Erica thought that there were definite advantages to the fact that she hadn’t been able to breastfeed. This way she and Patrik were able to share responsibility for the babies. That hadn’t been possible with Maja, and it had felt as if her daughter were glued to her breast 24/7.

  ‘How did it go?’ asked Kristina. She lifted Maja and Lisen down from the sofa and told them to go upstairs to play in Maja’s room. Emma and Adrian had already disappeared upstairs, so the two girls didn’t need any further persuasion.

  ‘It was fine. I don’t know what else to say,’ Erica told her. ‘But I’m worried about Anna.’

  ‘Me too.’ Patrik cautiously changed position so he was sitting more comfortably. ‘It’s as if she’s shut Dan out. She’s keeping him at a distance.’

  ‘I know. I’ve tried talking to her. But after all she’s been through …’ Erica shook her head. It was so terribly unfair. For years Anna had lived a life that could only be described as hell, but lately it seemed as if she’d finally found some peace of mind. And she’d been so happy about the baby that she and Dan were expecting. What had happened was unbelievably cruel.

  ‘Emma and Adrian seem to be handling it relatively well.’ Kristina cast a glance upstairs, where the children could be heard laughing merrily.

  ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ said Erica. ‘Right now they’re probably just so happy to have their mother back home. I’m not sure that they’ve fully taken in what happened yet.’

  ‘You’re probably right,’ said Kristina, and then looked at her son. ‘And what about you? Shouldn’t you stay home from work a while longer until you’re properly rested? No one’s going to thank you for working yourself to death over at the station. What happened to you was a wake-up call.’

  ‘At the moment things are actually calmer over there than here,’ said Erica, nodding at the twins. ‘But I told him the same thing.’

  ‘It feels good to be working again, but I’ll stay home if you really want me to,’ said Patrik. He set the empty bottle on the coffee table and placed Anton against his shoulder to burp him.

  ‘No, that’s okay. We’re doing just fine now.’

  Erica meant what she said. After Maja was born, she’d felt as if she were walking around in a thick fog, but this time everything was different. Maybe the circumstances surrounding the birth of the twins left no room for her to be depressed. It also helped that they had developed a set routine while in the hospital. They slept and ate at specific hours, and always together. Erica wasn’t the least bit concerned about being able to take care of the babies. She was happy for every second that she had with them, since she had come so close to losing both of them.

  She closed her eyes, leaned forward, and pressed her nose against the top of Noel’s head. For a moment his downy skin made her think of Anna, and she closed her eyes even tighter. She hoped she’d be able to find a way to help her sister, because right now she felt so powerless. She took a deep breath, drawing in Noel’s comforting scent.

  ‘My sweet baby,’ she murmured. ‘My sweet little baby.’

  ‘So how’s it going with your job?’ Signe tried to strike a light tone as she piled meatloaf, peas, mashed potatoes, and cream gravy on to a plate. A huge serving.

  Ever since Matte had moved back to the area, he’d hardly touched his food, even though she’d made his favourite meals every time he had dinner with them. The question was whether he ate anything at all when he was alone in his flat. He was as thin as a rail. Thank goodness he at least looked better now that all traces of the assault had disappeared. When they went to see him at Sahlgrenska Hospital, she hadn’t been able to hold back a cry of dismay. He had been beaten to a pulp. His face was so swollen that she could hardly tell whether it was really Matte lying in that hospital bed.

  ‘It’s fine.’

  Signe jumped at the sound of his voice. The answer to her question came after such a delay that she’d forgotten she asked it. Matte ploughed his fork through the mashed potatoes and then stabbed a bite of meatloaf. She realized she was holding her breath as she watched him raise the fork to his mouth.

  ‘Stop staring at the boy while he’s eating,’ muttered Gunnar. He was already helping himself to seconds.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘It’s just that I’m … I’m so glad to see you eating something.’

  ‘I’m not about to starve to death, Mamma. See? I’m eating.’ As if in defiance, he loaded his fork and quickly stuffed the food into his mouth before it toppled off.

  ‘They’re not working you too hard at the office, are they?’

  Signe received yet another annoyed look from Gunnar. She knew that he thought she was being over-protective, that she ought to leave their son in peace for a while. But she couldn’t help it. Matte was her only child, and ever since that December day when he was born, which was almost forty years ago, she’d regularly woken up in the middle of the night, her nightgown soaked with sweat and her head filled with nightmares about the terrible things that might have happened to him. Nothing in life was more important to her than seeing him happy. She had always felt that way. And she knew that Gunnar was every bit as devoted to their son as she was. But he was better equipped to shut out the ominous thoughts that love for a child always entails.

  She, on the other hand, was constantly aware that she might lose everything in a matter of seconds. When Matte was a baby, she’d dreamt that he had a heart defect, and so she had persuaded the doctors to do a thorough examination, which showed that her son was perfectly healthy. During his first year she slept no more than an hour at a time, because she kept getting up to make sure he was still breathing. As he got bigger, up until he started school, she would cut his food int
o small pieces so they wouldn’t get stuck in his throat and cause him to choke. And she had nightmares about cars driving right over his soft little body.

  By the time he was a teenager, her dreams had become even worse, filled with alcoholic comas, drunken driving, and fist-fights. Sometimes she tossed and turned so much in bed that she woke Gunnar. One feverish nightmare after another until she forced herself to sit up and wait for Matte to come home, her gaze fixed first on the window, then on the telephone. Her heart gave a leap every time she heard someone outside, approaching the house.

  The nights were a bit calmer after he moved away from home. Which was rather odd, because it seemed as if her fears should have grown when she was no longer able to keep watch over him. But she knew that he wouldn’t take any unnecessary risks. He was a cautious person – that much she’d managed to teach him. He was also considerate and would never think of hurting anyone. In her mind, this meant that no one, in turn, would ever try to harm him either.

  She smiled at the memory of all the animals he had brought home over the years. Injured, abandoned, or generally in a bad way. Three cats, two hedgehogs that had been hit by a car, and a sparrow with an injured wing. Not to mention the snake that she happened to find when she was just about to put his newly laundered underwear in his drawer. After that episode, he had to swear to her that he’d leave all reptiles to their fate, no matter how injured or abandoned they might be. He had reluctantly agreed.

  It had surprised Signe that he hadn’t become a veterinarian or a doctor. But he seemed to enjoy his studies at the business school, and from what she understood, he definitely had a head for numbers. He also seemed to like his job at the council. Yet there was something about him that worried her. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but the bad dreams had started up again. Every night she awoke, bathed in sweat, with fragments of images in her head. Something was amiss, but her tactful queries were merely met with silence. That was why she had decided to focus her efforts on getting him to eat. If only he would put on a few pounds, everything would probably be fine.