The Stonecutter: A Novel (Pegasus Crime) Page 43
‘We would like you to come with us.’
‘I can’t do that, as I’m sure you understand,’ said Lilian belligerently. ‘My husband is fighting for his life and I can’t leave him.’ She stamped her foot to emphasize her point, but neither of the detectives seemed to take any notice.
‘Stig is going to pull through, and unfortunately you have no choice. I’m only going to ask politely one time,’ said Patrik.
Charlotte couldn’t believe her ears. The whole thing must be a gigantic misunderstanding. If only Niclas were here, she was sure he could calm everybody down and straighten it all out in no time. She herself felt at a loss what to do. The whole situation was so absurd.
‘And what is this regarding?’ Lilian snapped. ‘There must be some kind of misunderstanding.’
‘This morning we exhumed your husband Lennart’s body. The medical examiners are in the process of taking samples from his remains. Samples from Stig have already been analyzed. We have also conducted a search of your house today, and …’ Patrik glanced at Charlotte but then turned back to Lilian, ‘we made a few other discoveries. We can discuss them here if you like, in front of your daughter and everyone else here, or you can come with us to the station.’ His voice was devoid of any emotion, but his eyes contained a coldness that she didn’t think he was capable of.
Lilian’s eyes met Charlotte’s for a moment. Charlotte understood nothing Patrik was saying. A brief glimpse at Lilian’s eyes increased her confusion and made an icy chill spread down her spine. Something was definitely wrong.
‘But Pappa had Guillain-Barré syndrome. He died of a nerve disease,’ she said, both as explanation and inquiry, directed at Patrik.
He didn’t reply. Soon enough, Charlotte would find out more than she ever wanted to know.
Lilian turned her gaze away from her daughter and seemed to make a decision. Then she said calmly to Patrik, ‘All right. I’ll go with you.’
Stunned, Charlotte stood there, unsure of whether to stay or go with them. At last, her indecision settled the matter. She watched as the officers and her mother vanished down the corridor.
34
Hinseberg 1962
It was the only visit to Agnes she intended to make. She no longer thought of her as Mother. Only as Agnes.
Mary had just turned eighteen, and she had left her last foster family without looking back. She wouldn’t miss them, and the feeling was mutual.
Over the years, the letters had arrived frequently. Thick letters that smelled of Agnes. She hadn’t opened a single one. But she hadn’t thrown them out either. They lay in a trunk waiting to be read one day.
That was also the first thing Agnes asked her. ‘Darling, did you read my letters?’
Mary looked at Agnes without answering. She hadn’t seen her in four years, and she needed to learn her facial features again before she could say anything.
It surprised her how little the time in prison seemed to have affected Agnes. She couldn’t do anything about the clothing, so the elegant dresses and suits were only a memory, but otherwise she seemed to have taken care of herself and her appearance with the same ardor as before. Her hair was newly coiffed, now in a beehive that was the latest style. Her eyeliner was also fashionably thick, and her nails were just as long as Mary remembered them. Now Agnes drummed them impatiently as she waited for an answer.
It took another moment before Mary spoke. ‘No, I haven’t read them. And don’t call me “darling,”’ she said, then waited with curiosity for the reply. She was no longer afraid of the woman facing her. The monster inside her had gradually devoured that fear as the hatred had grown. With so much hatred, there was no room for fear.
Agnes couldn’t pass up such a splendid opportunity for a dramatic scene.
‘You didn’t read them?!’ she shrieked. ‘Here I sit locked up while you’re out running loose and having fun and God knows what else, and the only joy I have is to know that my dear daughter is reading the letters I spend so many hours writing. And I never got a single letter from you or a single telephone call in four years!’ Agnes was now sobbing loudly, but no tears came. They would wreck her perfect eyeliner.
‘Why did you do it?’ asked Mary quietly.
Agnes abruptly stopped crying. With great composure she took out a cigarette and carefully lit it. After taking a few deep drags, she replied with the same ghastly calm, ‘Because he betrayed me. He thought he could leave me.’
‘Couldn’t you simply have let him go?’ Mary leaned forward so she wouldn’t miss a word. She had gone over this topic so many times in her mind that now she didn’t want to risk missing even a syllable.
‘No man leaves me,’ Agnes said. ‘I did what I had to do.’ Then she shifted her cold glance to Mary and added, ‘You know all about that, don’t you?’
Mary averted her eyes. The monster inside her stirred restlessly. She said curtly, ‘I want you to sign over the house in Fjällbacka to me. I’m thinking of moving there.’
Agnes looked as though she wanted to protest, but Mary hastened to add, ‘If you want to have any contact with me in future, then you’ll do as I say. If you sign over the house to me, I promise I’ll read your letters and write to you.’
Agnes hesitated, so Mary quickly continued, ‘I’m the only person you have left now. That may not be much, but I’m the only one you have.’
For a few unbearably long seconds Agnes weighed the pros and cons, evaluating what would benefit her most, and finally decided.
‘All right, that’s the deal then. Not because I can understand why you’d want to live in that hole, but if you want to, then fine …’ She shrugged, and Mary felt joy rise inside her.
It was a plan that had developed over the past year. She would start over. Become a whole different person. Shake off the past that clung to her like a musty old blanket. Her application to change her name had already been submitted. Gaining access to the house in Fjällbacka was stage two, and she had already begun the work of changing her appearance. Not a single unnecessary calorie had passed her lips in a whole month, and the hour-long walk each morning had also helped. Everything would be different. Everything would be new.
The last thing she heard when she left Agnes sitting in the waiting room was her astonished exclamation, ‘Have you lost weight?’
Mary didn’t turn around to answer. She was on her way to becoming a new person.
By the next day the storm had subsided, and the autumn was showing its best side. The leaves that had survived the windstorm were red and yellow and fluttered softly in a light breeze. The sunshine gave no warmth, but it still raised the spirits and chased away the raw chill in the air—the kind that crept inside your clothes and made your body feel cold and damp.
Patrik sighed as he sat in the kitchen. Lilian was still refusing to talk, despite all the evidence they had against her. At least it was enough to remand her back into custody, and they still had time to charge her.
‘How’s it going?’ said Annika as she came in to refill her coffee cup.
‘Not much happening,’ said Patrik with a deep sigh. ‘She’s as hard as a rock. Doesn’t say a word.’
‘But do we need a confession if the evidence is sufficient?’
‘No, not really,’ said Patrik. ‘But what we’re lacking is a motive. With a little imagination I could come up with a number of plausible motives for killing one husband and attempting to kill the second. But Sara?’
‘How did you know that she was the one who murdered Sara?’
‘I didn’t,’ said Patrik. ‘Not until now. But all this has made me see that somebody lied about the morning when Sara disappeared, and that somebody had to be Lilian.’
He turned on the tape recorder sitting on the kitchen table. Morgan’s voice filled the room. ‘I didn’t do it. I can’t sit in prison for the rest of my life. I didn’t kill her. I don’t know how the jacket ended up at my place. She was wearing it when she went into her house. Please, don’t leave me here.’
>
‘Did you hear that?’ said Patrik.
Annika shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t hear anything special.’
‘Listen one more time, very closely.’ He rewound the tape and pressed PLAY again.
‘I didn’t do it. I can’t sit in prison for the rest of my life. I didn’t kill her. I don’t know how the jacket ended up at my place. She was wearing it when she went into her house. Please, don’t leave me here.’
‘She was wearing it when she went into her house,’ Annika said quietly.
‘Precisely,’ said Patrik. ‘Lilian claimed that Sara left and then didn’t come back, but Morgan saw her go into the house again. And the only person who would have a reason to lie about it was Lilian. Why else wouldn’t she have told us that Sara came home again?’
‘How the hell can someone drown their own grandchild? And why did she stuff ashes into her mouth?’ said Annika, slowly shaking her head.
‘Yes, that’s exactly what I want to know,’ said Patrik in frustration. ‘But she just sits there and smiles and refuses to say a thing, either to confess or to defend herself.’
‘So what about the little boy?’ Annika continued. ‘Why did she attack him? And Maja?’
‘I think Liam was just a random choice,’ Patrik said, rotating his coffee cup in his hands. ‘I think it was a crime of opportunity. It was a way of deflecting attention from her family—from Niclas most of all, apparently. And attacking Maja was a way of getting back at me for investigating her and her family.’
‘I heard that you also had a bit of luck that helped you solve the murder of Lennart and the attempted murder of Stig.’
‘Yes, I did, and unfortunately I can’t claim any personal insight. If I hadn’t watched “Crime Night” on the Discovery Channel, we never would have found out about it. But they were featuring that case of a woman in the States who poisoned her husbands, and one of them was first diagnosed with Guillain-Barré. That’s when it all fell into place for me. Erica had mentioned that Charlotte’s father died of a nerve disease, and when Stig’s illness was added to that … Two husbands with the same rare symptoms; that made me wonder. So I woke up Erica, and she confirmed that Charlotte had said her father had died of Guillain-Barré. But I must tell you I wasn’t completely sure until I called the hospital. It was great when the test results were done and they showed a sky-high arsenic content. But I only wish I could get her to tell me why. She refuses to say anything!’ He ran his hand through his hair in frustration.
‘Well, you can only do so much,’ said Annika, turning to go. Then she turned back to Patrik and said, ‘Have you heard the news, by the way?’
‘No, what?’ said Patrik wearily, showing scant enthusiasm.
‘Ernst really has been sacked. And Martin has recruited some woman to work here. He apparently got a little pressure from higher up regarding the lopsided gender distribution in the station.’
‘The poor guy,’ Patrik chuckled. ‘Let’s hope this woman has a thick skin.’
‘I don’t know anything about her, so we’ll see when she shows up. Evidently she’ll be here next month.’
‘I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ said Patrik. ‘Anything will be an improvement compared to Ernst.’
‘Yeah, that’s for sure,’ said Annika. ‘And you should cheer up a little. The main thing is that the killer is in custody. The motive may have to remain a matter between her and the Creator.’
‘I haven’t given up yet,’ Patrik muttered, and he got up to give it another try.
He went to find Gösta, and together they took Lilian to the interrogation room. She looked a bit rumpled after a couple of days in jail, but she was totally calm. Apart from her annoyance when they took her from the hospital waiting room, she had maintained an exceedingly controlled façade. Nothing they’d said so far had shaken her, and Patrik had begun to doubt that they ever would. But he had to try one last time. Then the prosecutor could take over. But he really wanted to get an answer out of her about Maja. He was proud of himself for managing to keep his rage in check; he’d done it by trying to have a clear goal in mind at all times. The important thing was to get Lilian convicted, and if possible to obtain an explanation. Taking out his personal feelings on her would not advance that goal. He also knew that the slightest outburst on his part would mean that he would be excluded from the hearings. He already had everyone’s eyes on him because of his personal connection to the case.
He took a deep breath and began.
‘Sara was buried today. Did you know that?’
He and Gösta were sitting on one side of the table with Lilian facing them. She shook her head.
‘Would you have wanted to be there?’
She merely shrugged and gave them a strange, sphinx-like smile.
‘What do you think Charlotte feels about you now?’ He kept changing the subject in the hope of striking a nerve that would make her react. But so far she had been almost inhumanly indifferent.
‘I’m her mother,’ Lilian replied calmly. ‘She can never change that.’
‘Do you think she would want to?’
‘Maybe. But what she wants won’t change anything.’
‘Do you think she’d want to know why you did what you did?’ Gösta interjected. He was staring at Lilian intently, looking for a crack in what seemed to be impenetrable armor.
Lilian didn’t answer, but instead studied her nails impassively.
‘We have the evidence, Lilian, you know that. We went over that earlier. We don’t doubt for a second that you murdered two people and are guilty of the attempted murder of a third. The arsenic poisoning of Lennart and Stig will bring you many, many years in prison. So it won’t cost you a thing to talk about Sara’s murder. Killing your husband is nothing new; I could think of a thousand reasons to do it; but why your granddaughter? Why Sara? Did she provoke you? Did you get mad at her and then couldn’t stop yourself? Did she have one of her outbursts and you were trying to calm her down with a bath and things got out of hand? Tell us!’
But just as in earlier interrogations, they got no answers from Lilian. She simply smiled indulgently.
‘We have the evidence!’ Patrik repeated, now with increasing irritation. ‘The samples from Lennart showed high levels of arsenic, and Stig’s likewise. We’ve even been able to demonstrate that the arsenic poisoning occurred during the past six months, and in ever-increasing doses. We found the arsenic in an old container of rat poison that you kept down in the cellar. Sara had traces in her lungs of the ashes that you kept in your bedroom. You smeared a small child with the same ashes to throw us off the track, and you also put Sara’s jacket in Morgan’s cabin to try to shift the blame on him. The fact that Kaj turned out to be a pedophile was a stroke of luck for you. But we also have Morgan’s testimony on tape, saying that he saw Sara go back in the house. And that contradicts what you told us. We know that you were the one who murdered Sara. Help us now, help your daughter to move on. Tell us why! And my daughter, what reason did you have for taking her out of the stroller? Was it me you were trying to get at? Talk to me!’
Lilian was drawing little circles on the table with her index finger. She’d heard Patrik’s entreaties several times before, and they were just as futile this time.
Patrik felt himself beginning to lose his temper. He realized that it would be best to stop before he did something stupid. He jumped to his feet, reeled off the necessary information to conclude the interrogation, and walked over to the door. In the doorway he turned around.
‘What you’re doing now is unforgivable. You have the power to give your daughter some meager peace of mind, but you choose not to do so. It’s not only unforgivable, it’s inhuman.’
He asked Gösta to take Lilian back to her cell. He couldn’t look at her another second. For an instant, he’d thought he was gazing directly into the depths of evil.
‘Damned women’s-lib types we keep having shoved down our throats,’ Mellberg muttered. ‘Now we’re going to be encumbered
with them at work as well. I don’t get the point of that damned quota system. Maybe I was naïve, but I thought I’d be able to choose my own staff. But no, instead they’re going to send me a dame who probably hasn’t even learned to button her uniform. Am I right?’
Simon didn’t answer but kept his eyes fixed on his plate.
It felt odd to be eating lunch at home, but it was another link in the father-and-son project that Mellberg had initiated. He had even made an effort to slice some vegetables, which previously had never even made an appearance in his refrigerator. But he noticed with annoyance that Simon hadn’t touched either the cucumber or the tomatoes. Instead he was concentrating on the macaroni and meatballs, which he covered with enormous quantities of ketchup. Oh, well, ketchup was tomatoes too, Mellberg supposed, so that would have to do.
He decided to change the subject. It just aggravated his blood pressure to keep thinking about their new colleague. Instead, he focused on his son’s plans for the future.
‘So, have you thought about what sort of job you want? If you don’t think that studying at the Gymnasium is for you, I can help you find some sort of work. Not everyone can be the studious type, and if you’re half as practically inclined as your father …’ Mellberg chuckled.
A less experienced parent might have been concerned about his son’s lack of initiative regarding his own future, but Mellberg was filled with confidence. Surely Simon was just going through a temporary period of depression; there was nothing to worry about. He pondered whether he wanted the boy to be a lawyer or a doctor. A lawyer, he decided. Doctors no longer made as much money. But until he could get him onto that career track, the important thing was to back off and cut the boy some slack. If he got a taste of life’s hard knocks, he would eventually listen to reason. Of course, Simon’s mother had informed him that the boy had failed in almost every subject, and it was clear that that might place some obstacles in his path. But Mellberg was thinking positive. The whole problem was no doubt due to lack of support at home, because the intelligence must be there; otherwise Mother Nature would have played an especially malicious trick on them.