The Lost Boy (Patrick Hedstrom and Erica Falck, Book 7) Page 36

  ‘That’s Gunnar’s boat all right. I’m sure of it,’ said Peter. ‘Who wants to be the first ashore?’

  Martin looked at Paula, who pretended not to have heard the question. She was a city girl from Stockholm. Wading ashore on sharp rocks was something she would leave to Martin. He climbed up on the bow, grabbed the mooring line, and waited for the right moment. Peter turned off the engine and then helped Paula out of the boat. She almost fell in after slipping on some algae, but she managed to keep her balance. Martin would never stop teasing her if she fell in the water.

  Moving cautiously, they made their way over to the motorboat. On closer inspection they could see that it was undamaged.

  ‘How the hell did it end up here?’ Martin scratched his head.

  ‘It looks like it just drifted,’ said Peter.

  ‘Could it have drifted here all the way from the harbour?’ asked Paula, but from the look on Peter’s face she could tell that she’d asked a silly question.

  ‘No,’ he said.

  ‘She’s from Stockholm,’ Martin explained, and Paula glared at him.

  ‘Stockholm has an archipelago too.’

  Martin and Peter both looked sceptical.

  ‘A flooded forest,’ they said in unison.

  Paula walked around the boat. Sometimes people who lived on the west coast were so narrow-minded. If she heard anybody say one more time: ‘Ohhhh, you’re from the backside of Sweden,’ she was going to slug the individual in question.

  Peter climbed back on board MinLouis, and Martin tied a towline to Gunnar’s motorboat. Then he motioned for Paula to come closer.

  ‘Come and help me push,’ he said, as he started shoving the boat out of the crevice.

  Paula carefully made her way over the sharp rocks to lend a hand. After a good deal of effort, they managed to get the boat loose, and it slipped smoothly away from the shore.

  ‘All right then,’ said Paula and headed back to the Coast Guard vessel. Suddenly she felt her feet slip out from under her, and she fell. She was instantly soaking wet. Shit. Her colleagues were going to make fun of her for a long time to come.

  They were constantly with her now. They made her feel safe, even though she saw them only out of the corner of her eye. Sometimes she thought the boy looked a little like Sam, with his curly hair and that mischievous glint in his eye, except that he was blond, while Sam had dark hair. But like Sam, the boy kept his gaze fixed on his mother.

  Nathalie sensed rather than saw the woman. And she heard her. The hem of her dress sweeping along the floor, the small admonitions directed at the boy, the warnings whenever she saw something that might be dangerous. She was a rather over-protective mother, just as Nathalie was. Occasionally the woman had tried to speak to her. There was something she wanted to say, but Nathalie refused to hear it.

  The boy liked being in Sam’s room. Sometimes it sounded as if Sam was talking to him, but she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t dare move closer to listen, because she didn’t want to disturb them if they really were having a conversation. It gave her hope. In time, Sam would talk to her too. Even though she represented safety for him, she understood that Sam also associated her with all the terrible things he’d experienced in his life.

  It was warm inside the house, but she found herself suddenly shivering. What if they weren’t safe here after all? Maybe one day they’d see a boat approaching the island, just as she’d feared. A boat filled with the same evil that they’d tried to leave behind.

  She heard voices coming from Sam’s room. Her fear vanished as swiftly as it had appeared. The little blond boy was talking to Sam, and it sounded as if Sam was replying. Her heart leaped with happiness. It was so hard to know what was right. All she could do was follow her instinct, which was based on her love for Sam – and it kept telling her to give him more time. Let him heal here, in peace and quiet.

  No boat was going to come. She repeated that to herself like a mantra as she sat at the kitchen table and looked out of the window. No boat was going to come. Sam was talking, and that must mean that he was on his way back to her. She heard the little boy’s voice again. She smiled. She was glad that Sam had a friend.

  Patrik was watching Gösta rummage in his jacket pocket.

  ‘Could you please tell me what this is all about?’

  After a moment Gösta seemed to find what he was looking for. He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to Patrik.

  ‘What’s this? Or rather, who is this?’ Patrik was looking at the photograph he held in his hand.

  ‘I don’t really know. But I found it in Sverin’s flat.’

  ‘Where?’

  Gösta swallowed hard. ‘In his bedroom.’

  ‘Can you explain to me how it happened to end up in your jacket pocket?’

  ‘I thought it might be of interest, so I took it along. But then I forgot about it,’ said Gösta in a subdued voice.

  ‘You forgot about it?’ Patrik was so angry that for a second everything went black before his eyes. ‘How could you possibly forget something like this? All we’ve talked about lately is how little we know about Mats, and how hard it’s been to find out who he knew.’

  Gösta seemed to shrink as they stood there in the corridor. ‘I realize that, but at least I’m showing it to you now. Better late than never, right?’ He attempted a smile.

  ‘And you have no idea who this is?’ asked Patrik, now taking a moment to study the picture properly.

  ‘Not a clue. But it must have been someone who was important to Sverin. And it occurred to me that … I thought about it when we were …’ He nodded towards the room where Marie was waiting for them.

  ‘It’s worth a try,’ said Patrik. ‘But we’re not done talking about this, you and I. Just so you know.’

  ‘I know.’ Gösta looked down at the floor, but he seemed relieved at the reprieve, no matter how temporary.

  They went back into the break room. Marie looked as nervous as she had before.

  Patrik got straight to the point.

  ‘Who is this?’ he said, placing the photo on the table in front of Marie. He saw her eyes open wide.

  ‘Madeleine,’ she said, looking scared. She covered her mouth with her hand.

  ‘Who’s Madeleine?’

  Patrik tapped his finger on the photo in order to force Marie to keep looking at it. She didn’t answer as she uneasily shifted position on her chair.

  ‘This is a murder investigation, and any information you have may help us to find out who killed Mats. That’s what you want too, isn’t it?’

  Marie looked at them with an unhappy expression. Her hands were shaking, and her voice faltered as she finally began to tell them what she knew. About Madeleine.

  When the tech team arrived to carry out a thorough examination of the boat, Paula and Martin drove back to the station. Paula had borrowed a huge pair of waterproof trousers and an orange fleece shirt from the Coast Guard office. She glared at anyone who might even consider making some sort of sarcastic remark. Once seated inside the car, she turned up the heat. The sea water had been icy cold, and she was still freezing.

  The volume on the radio was up as high as it would go, so they almost didn’t hear Martin’s mobile when it rang. He turned down the music before answering his phone.

  ‘That’s great! Can we go over there now? We’re headed back, so we can stop off there on the way.’ He ended the conversation and turned to Paula. ‘That was Annika. Lennart has finished going through the documents, so we can go see him any time we like.’

  ‘Perfect,’ said Paula, looking a bit happier.

  Fifteen minutes later they parked in front of the ExtraFilm office. Lennart was eating lunch at his desk when they came in, but he set aside his sandwich and wiped his hands on a napkin. He cast a surprised look at what Paula was wearing, but wisely decided not to comment.

  ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he said.

  Lennart radiated warmth, just as his wife did. Paula thought that th
eir adoptive daughter had no idea how lucky she was to end up with Annika and Lennart as her parents.

  ‘She’s so cute,’ said Paula, pointing at the photo of the little girl that Lennart had pinned up on his bulletin board.

  ‘Yes, she certainly is.’ He smiled broadly, then motioned for them to sit down in the visitors’ chairs in front of his desk. ‘I don’t know whether it’s really worth your time to sit down. I’ve looked through everything as carefully as I could, but there’s really not much to tell you. The finances seem to be in order, and I didn’t find anything that leaped out at me. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was supposed to be looking for. From what I can tell, the town has invested a lot of money in the project and also negotiated extended payment clauses. But there’s nothing that set off any alarm bells in here – my best financial instrument.’ Lennart patted himself on the stomach.

  Martin started to say something, but Lennart went on:

  ‘The Berkelins – Vivianne and Anders – are responsible for a large part of the expenses, and according to the documents, the financing that they’ve arranged is due to arrive on Monday. I’m afraid I haven’t been much help.’

  ‘Yes, you have. At least it’s good to hear that the town is doing a good job of handling our money.’ Martin stood up.

  ‘Well, so far, so good. But everything depends on whether they’re able to bring in customers. Otherwise it’s going to be expensive for the taxpayers.’

  ‘We thought it was really nice, at any rate.’

  ‘Yes, Annika told me that all of you had a good time at the spa. And that Mellberg was apparently pampered like royalty.’

  Paula and Martin laughed. ‘We wish we could have seen it. Rumour has it that they gave him an oyster treatment. But we’ll just have to imagine Mellberg covered with oyster shells,’ said Paula.

  ‘Well, here’s everything.’ Lennart handed them the stack of papers. ‘As I said, I’m sorry that I couldn’t be of more help.’

  ‘It’s not your fault. We’ll have to keep looking, that’s all,’ said Paula, but she couldn’t hide how discouraged she felt. The discovery of Gunnar’s boat had given them a little boost, but the euphoria hadn’t lasted long. It seemed very unlikely that the boat would provide any new leads in the investigation.

  ‘I’ll drop you off and then go home to change my clothes,’ she told Martin as they neared the station. Then she gave him a warning look.

  He nodded, but she knew that the minute he stepped in the door, he would be gleefully embellishing the story of how she’d taken an involuntary dip in the water.

  Paula parked outside her building and dashed upstairs to the flat. She was still feeling chilled, as if the cold water had seeped right into her bones. Her hands shook as she put the key in the lock, but finally she got the door open.

  ‘Hello?’ she called, expecting to hear her mother’s cheerful voice from the kitchen.

  ‘Hi,’ she heard. It was Johanna’s voice, coming from the bedroom. She went in, surprised to find her home from work at this time of day.

  Something was going on. Something that had kept Paula awake at night, listening to Johanna breathing. Even though Paula could tell that she too was wide awake, she hadn’t dared say anything. She wasn’t sure that she really wanted to know what was troubling her. Now Johanna was sitting on their bed with such a dejected look on her face that Paula wanted to turn around and run away. All sorts of thoughts raced through her mind. All kinds of potential scenarios popped up, and she didn’t want to see how any of them played out. But now they were both here, face to face, in an empty flat without all the usual commotion to hide behind. No dogs running around. No Rita singing loudly in the kitchen and playing with Leo. No Mellberg shouting obscenities at the TV. Nothing but silence. And the two of them.

  ‘What on earth are you wearing?’ asked Johanna at last, looking Paula up and down.

  ‘I fell in the water,’ said Paula, glancing down at the ugly fleece shirt which was so big that it reached almost to her knees. ‘I just came home to change.’

  ‘Why don’t you do that. Then we’ll talk. I can’t have a serious conversation with you dressed like that.’ She smiled wryly, which made Paula’s stomach lurch. She loved Johanna’s smile, but she hadn’t seen it much lately.

  ‘Could you make some tea while I get changed? Then we can sit in the kitchen.’

  Johanna nodded and left the room. Paula’s fingers were stiff with cold and fear as she changed into jeans and a white T-shirt. Then she took a deep breath and went out to the kitchen. This was not a conversation that she wanted to have, but she had no choice. All she could do was close her eyes and dive in.

  He hated lying to her. She had been everything to him for so long, and it frightened him that for the first time he was prepared to sacrifice what they had together. Anders was breathing hard as he headed up the steep, narrow slope towards Mörhult. He had to get out in the fresh air for a while, and away from Vivianne. There was no other way to view it.

  Sometimes the past seemed so close. Sometimes he was still five years old, lying under the bed next to Vivianne, with his hands over his ears and his sister’s arm wrapped tightly around him. Under that bed they had learned so much about surviving. But he was no longer content simply to survive. He wanted to live, and he didn’t know whether Vivianne was helping or hindering him.

  A car came rushing past at high speed, and he had to jump on to the verge. Badis was behind him. Their big project, and their last. Erling was the one who was making it all possible. And now the poor devil had actually proposed to Vivianne.

  Erling had phoned to invite Anders to dinner tonight to celebrate the engagement. Somehow Anders doubted that his sister was aware of these plans. Especially since that fat little police chief and his live-in girlfriend had been invited as well. Anders had declined the invitation, offering some feeble excuse. The combination of Erling and Bertil Mellberg didn’t sound like a recipe for a pleasant evening. And under the circumstances, it would feel strange to be celebrating.

  The road started to slope downward. He didn’t really know where he was going; it didn’t matter which direction he chose. Anders kicked at a stone that rolled down the hill until it disappeared in a ditch. That was exactly how he was feeling at the moment. As if he was rolling faster and faster down a slope. The only question was, which ditch would he wind up in? It was bound to end badly, because there was no good option. He’d lain awake all night, trying to work out a solution, a compromise. But there was none to be found. Just as there had been no middle road in the days when they lay under the bed with their heads pressed against the wooden slats.

  He stood on the dock in front of the little stone bridge. There were no swans in sight. He’d been told that they usually built their nests to the right of the bridge, and every year they had a new flock of babies, who lived precariously close to the road. Apparently swans mated for life. That was what he wanted too. So far the only woman in his life was his sister. Not as a lover, of course, but she had always been his partner, the one he was supposed to spend his life with.

  Now everything had changed. He needed to make a decision, but he had no idea how he was going to do that. Not when he could still feel the wooden slats against his head and Vivianne’s protective arm holding him. Not when he knew that she had always been his defender and his best friend.

  They had almost lost the battle for survival. The alcohol and the smells had been present even when their mother was still alive. But at the same time there had been small islands of love – moments that they had clung to. When she chose to escape, when Olof found her in the bedroom with an empty pill bottle on the floor, the last remnants of their childhood vanished. He blamed them, and they were severely punished. Every time the ladies from social services dropped by, he would pull himself together and charm them with his blue eyes, showing off his home and Vivianne and Anders, who silently stared at their feet as the ladies fussed over him. Somehow he always found out in advance when they were plann
ing to come over, so the flat would be clean and tidy when they showed up for their supposedly impromptu visits. Why hadn’t he just given them up if he hated them so much? Anders and Vivianne had spent so many hours imagining the new mother and father they could have had if only Olof would let them go.

  Presumably he wanted to keep them close so he could watch them suffer. But in the end they were determined to win. Though he’d been dead for years now, he continued to serve as their incentive. They were determined to prove to him that they could be successful. And success was now within their reach. They couldn’t simply give up and admit that Olof had been right when he said that they were worthless and would never amount to anything.

  Off in the distance Anders could see the swan family approaching. The baby swans were bobbing along after their stately parents. They looked so sweet, with their downy grey feathers, but they were nothing like the stylish birds they would eventually become. Had he and Vivianne grown up to be big, beautiful birds? Or were they still little grey cygnets, hoping to be something else?

  Anders turned around and slowly walked back up the hill. No matter what he decided, he had to do it soon.

  ‘We know about Madeleine,’ said Patrik as he sat down in front of Leila without waiting for an invitation.

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘We know about Madeleine,’ Patrik repeated calmly. Gösta had taken the chair next to him, but he was staring at the floor.

  ‘I see. But what …’ said Leila, looking nervous.

  ‘You said that you were willing to cooperate with us, and that you’d told us everything. We now know that’s not entirely true, and we’d like an explanation.’ He made his voice sound as stern as he could, and it seemed to work.

  ‘I didn’t think …’ Leila swallowed hard. ‘I didn’t think it was relevant.’

  ‘I don’t believe that. Besides, it’s not your job to decide what might be relevant or not.’ Patrik paused, then said, ‘What can you tell us about Madeleine?’

  For a moment Leila sat in silence. Then she abruptly stood up and went over to the bookcase. She stuck her hand behind a row of books and took out a key. Taking her seat behind her desk again, she bent down and unlocked the bottom drawer.