The Stonecutter: A Novel (Pegasus Crime) Page 39

  ‘Charlotte!’ Lilian came toward her with arms outstretched as she entered the waiting room. Her mother was sobbing, and everyone turned to look at her. People crying had the same effect on their fellow human beings as car crashes. Nobody could help looking.

  Charlotte awkwardly patted her mother on the back. Lilian had never been particularly demonstrative, and physical contact with her felt unusual.

  ‘Oh, Charlotte, it was dreadful! I went up to bring him some tea and he was completely out of it! I called his name and tried to shake him, but I got no response at all. And nobody can tell me what was wrong with him. He’s in intensive care and they won’t let me see him. Shouldn’t I be allowed to be with him? And what if he dies?!’

  Lilian shrieked so loudly it was heard all over the room, and for a moment Charlotte was embarrassed to have everyone looking at them. Her mother had always had a tendency toward the dramatic, but that didn’t make her worry any less genuine.

  ‘Sit down, and I’ll go see whether I can find us a cup of coffee. Niclas will be here soon, and he can probably find out something in no time. They’re his old colleagues, after all.’

  ‘Do you think so?’ said Lilian, clinging to her daughter’s arm.

  ‘Certainly,’ said Charlotte, carefully loosening Lilian’s grip. It actually surprised her how calm and secure she felt. The loss of Sara had dulled her emotions, which made her able to think practically despite her own concern about Stig.

  Gratefully, she saw Niclas enter the waiting room, and she met him at the door.

  ‘Mamma is hysterical. I’ll go and fetch some coffee for all of us. I promised her that you would try to find out more about what’s happening with Stig.’

  Niclas nodded. He raised his hand and caressed Charlotte’s cheek. The unaccustomed gesture made her flinch. She couldn’t really remember him ever touching her with such tenderness.

  ‘How are you holding up?’ he asked her with genuine concern, and despite the sadness of the situation she felt something like joy blossom in her heart.

  ‘I’m doing all right,’ she replied, smiling at him as a sign that she wasn’t going to break down.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m sure. Go talk to your colleagues now, so we can get some straight answers.’

  He did as she said. A while later, as she and Lilian were sitting together sipping their coffee, he came back and sat down next to them.

  ‘Well? Did you find out anything?’ said Charlotte, trying by sheer force of will to make him say something positive. Unfortunately it didn’t work.

  Niclas’s face was grim when he said, ‘I’m afraid we have to prepare for the worst. They’re doing what they can, but they’re not sure that Stig will live out the day. We just have to wait and see.’

  Lilian gasped and threw her arms round Niclas’s neck. He awkwardly patted her back. Charlotte had a sense of déjà vu. Lilian had been in this same state when Charlotte’s father died, and the doctors ended up giving her a sedative so she wouldn’t totally fall apart. The whole thing was so unfair. Losing one husband was bad enough. Charlotte turned to Niclas.

  ‘Couldn’t they tell you anything about what’s wrong with him?’

  ‘They doing lots of tests and will probably work out eventually what it is. But right now the most important thing is to keep him alive long enough to be able to find the proper treatment. As things look now, it could be anything from cancer to some viral infection. All they said was that he should have come to the hospital long ago.’

  Charlotte saw the guilt flicker like a shadow across his face. She leaned her head against his shoulder.

  ‘You’re only human, Niclas. Stig didn’t want to go to the hospital, and it didn’t seem dangerous when you examined him, did it? He was up now and then and seemed fairly spry, and he said himself that he didn’t have much pain.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have listened to him. Damn it, I’m a doctor, I should have known better.’

  ‘Don’t forget that we’ve had a few other things on our minds,’ Charlotte said in a low voice, but Lilian still heard her.

  ‘Why does all the misfortune in the world have to descend on us? First Sara, and now Stig,’ she wailed, blowing her nose in the paper napkin that Charlotte had given her. People in the waiting room who had gone back to reading their magazines now looked at them again. Charlotte felt irritation seize hold of her.

  ‘You have to pull yourself together. The doctors are doing all they can,’ she said, trying to make her voice as soothing as possible, without taking the force out of what she said. Lilian gave her an injured look, but obeyed and stopped sniffling.

  Charlotte sighed and rolled her eyes at Niclas. She didn’t doubt that her mother’s distress about Stig was genuine, but her tendency to turn every situation into a drama starring herself was incredibly trying. Lilian had always thrived when she was the center of attention, and she used every means at her disposal to achieve that position, even now. That was just how she was, and Charlotte struggled to accept it and conceal her vexation. This time her mother’s suffering was real.

  Six hours later they still hadn’t heard any news. Niclas had gone in to talk with the doctors repeatedly, but they didn’t have any more information. The prognosis for Stig was still uncertain.

  ‘Somebody has to drive home and see to Albin,’ said Charlotte, talking as much to Lilian as to Niclas. She saw that her mother opened her mouth to protest, unwilling to let either her daughter or son-in-law go, but Niclas anticipated what she was going to say.

  ‘Yes, you’re right. He’ll be terrified if Veronika tries to put him to bed at her house. I’ll go, so you can stay here.’

  Lilian looked annoyed, but she knew that they were right and reluctantly gave in.

  Niclas kissed Charlotte on the cheek and then patted Lilian on the shoulder. ‘Everything will work out, you’ll see. Call if you hear anything.’

  Charlotte nodded. She watched him vanish down the corridor and then leaned back in the uncomfortable chair and closed her eyes. It was going to be a long wait.

  31

  Göteborg 1958

  The disappointment ate at Mary from the inside. Nothing had turned out the way she’d thought. Nothing had changed. Except that she didn’t even receive the brief displays of kindness and tenderness from her mother now that Åke was no longer here. In fact, Mary hardly ever saw her. She was either on her way out to meet Per-Erik, or she had to go to a party somewhere. Her mother also seemed to have abandoned all attempts to control Mary’s weight, so she could eat anything in the house. By now she had far surpassed her former top weight. Sometimes when she looked at herself in the mirror she saw only the monster that had been growing inside her for so long. A voracious, fat, loathsome monster, constantly surrounded by a nauseating smell of sweat. Mother didn’t even bother to conceal the disgust she felt when she looked at her. Once she had even obviously held her nose when she passed by. The humiliation still stung.

  This wasn’t the way that Mother had promised things would be. Per-Erik was supposed to be a much better father than Åke ever was, Mother would be happy, and they would finally live together like a real family. The monster would disappear, she would never again have to sit in the cellar, and that dry, sickening, dusty taste would never again fill her mouth.

  Duped. That was how she felt. Duped. She’d tried to ask her mother when things were going to turn out as she’d promised, but got only brusque answers in return. When she insisted, she’d been locked in the cellar, after first being fed a little Humility. She had cried bitter tears that contained far more disappointment than she could handle.

  Sitting in the dark, she felt the monster thriving. It liked the dryness in her mouth. It ate it and rejoiced.

  The door closed heavily behind him. Moving slowly, Patrik went into the hall and wriggled out of his jacket. He left it lying on the floor, too exhausted to bother hanging it up.

  ‘What happened?’ said Erica in a worried voice from the living room. ‘D
id you find out something new?’

  When he saw her face, Patrik felt a pang of guilt that he hadn’t stayed at home with her and Maja. He must look like a wreck. He had phoned home from time to time, of course, but the chaos at the station after what happened had made the conversations extremely abrupt and stressful. As soon as he confirmed that everything was all right at home, he had more or less hung up on her.

  He plodded into the living room. As usual, Erica was sitting in the dark and watching TV with Maja on her lap.

  ‘I’m sorry I was so curt on the phone,’ he said, rubbing his face wearily.

  ‘Did something happen?’

  He collapsed onto the sofa and at first couldn’t reply.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said after a moment. ‘Ernst got the idea of bringing in Morgan Wiberg for questioning, completely on his own authority. He managed to stress the poor boy out so badly that he escaped out of a window, ran into the street, and was hit by a car.’

  ‘My God, that’s horrible!’ said Erica. ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘He died.’

  Erica gasped. Maja, who was asleep, whimpered but then settled down again.

  ‘It was so horrendous, you can’t imagine,’ said Patrik, leaning his head back and staring up at the ceiling. ‘As he lay there in the street, his mother showed up. She rushed forward before we could stop her, took his head in her lap, and then sat rocking him and wailing in a way that hardly sounded human. We finally had to tear her away from him. Jesus Christ, it was ghastly.’

  ‘And Ernst?’ said Erica. ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘For the first time I actually think he’s going to be sacked. I’ve never seen Mellberg so mad. He sent him home on the spot, and after this I don’t think he’ll be coming back. Which would be a blessing.’

  ‘Does Kaj know?’

  ‘Yeah, and that’s a whole other story. Martin and I were questioning him when the accident happened, and we had to run outside. If it had happened a few minutes later, I think we could have got him to talk. Now he’s totally clammed up and refuses to say a word. He blames us for Morgan’s death, and to some degree he’s right. Some colleagues from Göteborg were supposed to arrive this morning to interrogate Kaj, but they had to postpone it indefinitely. Kaj’s lawyer put a stop to all questioning for the time being, considering the circumstances.’

  ‘So you still don’t know whether he was involved in Sara’s murder? And in … in what happened yesterday?’

  ‘No,’ said Patrik wearily. ‘The only thing that’s sure is that it couldn’t have been Kaj who took Maja out of the stroller. We had him in custody at the time. Has Dan been here, by the way?’ he said, caressing his daughter and lifting her over to his own lap.

  ‘Yes, he was. He’s been like a faithful watchdog.’ Erica smiled, but it didn’t reach all the way to her eyes. ‘I finally had to send him away, more or less. He left half an hour ago. I wouldn’t be surprised if he spends the night in our garden in a sleeping bag.’

  Patrik laughed. ‘Yeah, that sounds plausible. At any rate, I owe him one. It feels good to know that you two weren’t alone here today.’

  ‘You know, we were just on our way upstairs to go to bed, Maja and I. But we can sit up a while longer if you’d like company.’

  ‘Don’t be offended, but I’d prefer to sit by myself for a while,’ Patrik replied. ‘I brought home some work to do, and then maybe I’ll watch TV to wind down for a while.’

  ‘Do whatever you feel like doing,’ said Erica. She got up and took Maja from Patrik after giving him a kiss on the mouth.

  ‘By the way, how was your day?’ he asked when she was halfway up the stairs.

  ‘Fine,’ said Erica, and Patrik could hear that there was new energy in her voice. ‘Today she didn’t need to sleep at my breast at all; she slept in the stroller. And now she doesn’t cry for more than twenty minutes. In fact, last time it was actually only five.’

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘It sounds like you’re starting to get control of the situation.’

  ‘Yeah, what a miracle that it actually works,’ she said with a laugh. Then she turned serious. ‘Although Maja can only sleep indoors now. I don’t dare put her outside ever again.’

  ‘I’m sorry I was so … dumb the other night,’ said Patrik hesitantly. He didn’t want to risk saying anything stupid again, so that’s why he fumbled for every word, even to apologize.

  ‘That’s okay,’ she said. ‘I’ve been a little oversensitive too. But I think the tide has turned now. The fright I got when she was missing had at least one beneficial effect. It made me realize how thankful I am for every minute with her.’

  ‘Yeah, I know what you mean,’ he said with a wave as she continued upstairs.

  He shut off the sound on the TV, took out his cassette player, and pressed REWIND and then PLAY. He had already listened to the tape several times at the station. It was the few minutes that were recorded of Ernst’s so-called ‘interrogation’ of Morgan. Not much was said, but there was still something that bothered him, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

  After listening to the tape three times, he gave up, put away the cassette player, and went to the kitchen. He puttered about for a couple of minutes and emerged with a cup of hot chocolate and three cheese-and-caviar sandwiches on delicious Skogaholm bread. He turned up the sound on the TV and switched to ‘Crime Night’ on the Discovery Channel. Watching re-enactments of real crimes was perhaps an odd way for a cop to relax, but he always found it soothing. The crimes were always solved.

  As he watched the program, a thought of a highly private nature began to take shape. A highly pleasurable and invigorating thought, which effectively repressed all images of crime and death. Patrik smiled as he sat there in the dark. He would have to go on a little shopping expedition.

  The light was piercing and relentless in the cell. It felt like it was penetrating every part of him, every nook and cranny. Kaj tried to hide from it by burying his head in his arms, but he still felt the light prickling the back of his neck.

  In only a few days his whole world had come crashing down. It might seem naïve in hindsight, but he had felt so safe, so untouchable. He had been part of a group that seemed above the ordinary world. They weren’t like the others. They were better, more enlightened than everyone else. What the world didn’t understand was that it was all about love. Nothing but love. Sex was only a small part of the whole. Sensuality was the closest word he could find to describe it. Young skin was so pure, so unsullied. Children’s minds were full of innocence, not befouled by the ugly thoughts of adults. What they were doing was helping these young people to develop so that they could reach their full potential. They helped them to understand what love was. Sex was the tool, but not the goal in itself. The goal was to achieve an accord, a union of souls. An association between young and old, so beautiful in its purity.

  But no one would understand. They had talked about it so much in the chat rooms. How the stupidity of the others and the narrow-mindedness of their thinking made them unable to imagine even trying to understand what was so obvious to the members of the group. Instead, the others were so eager to label what they and the children were doing as dirty.

  Against that background, he could understand why Sebastian did what he did. The boy had realized that nobody would understand, that he would be regarded with abhorrence and contempt. But what Kaj couldn’t understand was why Sebastian had leveled such accusations against him in his final farewell to the world. Kaj felt hurt. He had really believed that they’d reached a deep mutual understanding during their meetings, and that Sebastian’s soul, after the initial reluctance that always had to be overcome, had willingly sought to merge with Kaj’s soul. He had regarded the physical act as something subordinate. It was the feeling of literally drinking from the fountain of youth that had been the real reward. Had Sebastian really not understood that? Had he been pretending the whole time, or was it society’s norms that had made him disavow their affinity
in his last letter? It pained Kaj to think that he would never know.

  He had tried not to dwell on the other matter. Ever since they had brought him the news of Morgan’s death, he had tried to push away all thought of his son. His brain refused to accept the cruel truth, but the merciless light in his cell kept forcing images and thoughts upon him, including the spiteful idea that this was perhaps his punishment. But he hadn’t done anything wrong. Over the years he had come to love other boys, and they had loved him. That’s how it was, and that’s how it had to be. The alternative was too terrible for him even to imagine. It must have been love.

  He knew that he had never been much of a father to Morgan. It had been so difficult. Even in the beginning his son had been hard to love, and he had often admired Monica because she was able to show him affection, that intractable, awkward child of theirs. Another thought occurred to him. Maybe they were going to try to make a case that he’d touched Morgan. The very idea made him furious. Morgan was his son, after all, his own flesh and blood. He knew that was what they’d say. But it was only proof of how restricted and narrow-minded they were. It wasn’t the same thing at all. The love between father and son was different from the love between him and the others. It was on a completely different level.

  And yet he had loved Morgan. He knew that Monica didn’t believe it, but it was true. He simply hadn’t known how to reach out to the boy. All his attempts had been rejected, and he sometimes wondered if Monica in some subtle way might have been thwarting his attempts to reach his son. She had wanted him all to herself. Wanted to be the only parent he turned to. Kaj was effectively shut out, and even though she rebuked him and accused him of not engaging with his son, he knew that secretly that was precisely the way she wanted it. And now it was too late to change anything.

  As the harsh light of the fluorescent tube flickered at him, he lay on his side on the floor and curled up in the fetal position.