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Authors: Camilla Lackberg

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BOOK: Buried Angels
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‘What are you doing?’ demanded her foster father from the doorway, making her flinch.

Dagmar had thought he was out in the barn. Her heart pounded wildly for a moment, but then she felt a great calm come over her. Nothing was going to ruin her plans.

‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ she said, taking all of the jewellery out of the box and stuffing the pieces in her skirt pocket.

‘Are you out of your mind, girl? Are you stealing the jewellery?’ He came a step closer, but she held up her hand.

‘That’s right. And I’d advise you not to try and stop me. Because if you do, I’ll go straight to the county sheriff and tell him what you’ve been doing to me.’

‘You wouldn’t dare!’ He clenched his fists, but then the frown on his face relaxed. ‘Besides, who would ever believe the Angelmaker’s daughter?’

‘I can be very convincing. And rumours will start to spread faster than you can imagine.’

His face clouded over again, and he seemed to hesitate, but she decided to help him out.

‘I have a suggestion. When my dear foster mother discovers that her jewellery is missing, you’ll do everything you can to calm her down and convince her to forget all about it. If you promise to do that, then I’ll give you a little extra reward before I leave here.’

Dagmar went over to her foster father. Slowly she raised her hand, placed it on his genitals, and began rubbing. The farmer’s eyes soon took on a glazed look, and she knew that she had him in her power.

‘Do we have a deal?’ she said, slowly unbuttoning his trousers.

‘We have a deal,’ he replied, placing his hand on top of her head and pressing it down.

Chapter Four
 
 

The diving tower at Badholmen loomed as majestically against the sky as it always had. Erica cast aside the image of a man gently swaying from a rope attached to the tower; the last thing she wanted was to be reminded of that awful event. As if trying its best to distract her from such dark thoughts, the small islet of Badholmen was sparkling like a jewel in the water off Fjällbacka. The youth hostel out there was very popular and often fully booked during the summer, and Erica could understand why. The location and the old-fashioned charm of the building made an irresistible combination. but today she wasn’t really able to enjoy the view.

‘Is everybody here?’ Feeling her stress levels mounting, she looked around her, counting the children.

Three rambunctious figures wearing bright orange life-jackets were capering about on the dock.

‘Patrik! Maybe you could help out a little here,’ she said, catching hold of the big collar on Maja’s life-jacket as her daughter dashed past, running dangerously close to the edge of the pier.

‘Then who did you think is going to start up the motor?’ Patrik threw out his hands, his face flushed.

‘If you get the kids into the boat first, before they fall into the water, then you can start the motor.’

Maja was squirming like a worm to get loose, but Erica had a good grip on the loop of her collar and held on tight. With her free hand she grabbed Noel, who was chasing after Anton on his chubby little legs. Now at least there was only one child running wild.

‘Here, come and get them.’ She hauled the boisterous children towards the wooden
snipa
boat tied up at the dock. Clearly annoyed, Patrik climbed up on to the deck to grab Maja and Noel. Then Erica spun around and hurried after Anton, who had taken off in the direction of the little stone bridge between Badholmen and the mainland.

‘Anton! Stop!’ she shouted, but he carried on regardless. Despite his best efforts though, Erica caught up with him in the end. Shrieking hysterically, he struggled to break free as she carried him back to the boat.

‘My God, why on earth did I think this would be a good idea?’ she said as she handed the sobbing Anton to Patrik. Perspiration running down her face, she untied the mooring line and jumped into the boat.

‘It’ll be better when we get out on open water.’ Patrik turned the ignition, and for once the motor started up on the first try. He leaned over to untie the aft mooring line as he used his other hand to keep the boat a safe distance from the next vessel at the dock. It was no easy task to make their way out into the harbour. The boats were crowded together, and if they hadn’t had rubber fenders, neither their own boat nor their neighbours’ would have been able to avoid damage.

‘I’m sorry about snapping at you,’ said Erica as she sat down after getting the children to settle on the floor of the boat.

‘I’ve already forgotten all about it,’ Patrik shouted, slowly shoving the tiller away from him, which made the boat swing around with the aft towards the harbour and the bow facing Fjällbacka.

It was a radiantly beautiful Sunday morning, with a clear blue sky and mirror-smooth water. Shrieking gulls circled overhead, and when Erica looked around, she noticed that people were eating breakfast on several of the boats in the harbour. No doubt plenty of people were also still in bed, sleeping off the booze they’d consumed the night before. Saturday nights involved a good deal of drinking for the visiting youths. I’m glad those days are past, she thought and then glanced with much greater tenderness at the children who were now sitting quietly in the boat.

She went over to stand beside Patrik, leaning her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her and kissed her cheek.

‘By the way,’ he said suddenly. ‘When we get there, remind me to ask you some questions about Valö and the summer camp.’

‘What do you want to know?’ asked Erica with interest.

‘I’ll tell you later, when we have a bit of peace and quiet,’ he said, giving her another kiss.

She knew he was doing this to tease her. She was itching to know more, but she controlled herself. Silently she raised her hand to shade her eyes as she gazed at Valö. As they slowly chugged past, she caught a glimpse of the big white house. Would they ever find out what happened out there so many years ago? She hated books and movies that failed to answer all the questions in the end, and she could hardly bear to read about unsolved murders in the newspapers. When she’d started digging into the Valö case, she’d found out nothing new, despite searching long and hard for an explanation. The truth was as hidden as the house, which was now out of sight behind the trees.

 

Martin paused for a moment with his hand in the air before pressing the doorbell. He soon heard someone approaching inside, and he had to fight back an impulse to turn around and leave. The door opened, and Annika stared at him in surprise.

‘Martin? What are you doing here? Has something happened?’

He forced a smile. But Annika was the wrong person to try to fool, and that was essentially why he’d come to her house. Ever since he’d started at the station, she’d been like a substitute mother to him, and right now she was the one he wanted to talk to.

‘Well, you see, I …’ That was all he could manage.

‘Come in,’ said Annika. ‘We’ll go in the kitchen and have a cup of coffee. Then you can tell me what’s on your mind.’

Martin stepped inside, took off his shoes, and followed her.

‘Sit down,’ she said, and with a practised hand she began putting scoops of coffee grounds in the filter. ‘Where are Pia and Tuva?’

‘They’re at home. I said I was going for a walk, so I have to get back soon. We’re thinking of heading out to the beach.’

‘Ah. Sounds nice. Leia loves to swim too. We were out at the bathing beach earlier today, and we could hardly get her out of the water when it was time to come home. She loves the water, that girl. Lennart just went off with her so I could catch up on some cleaning.’

Annika’s face lit up when she talked about her daughter. It was almost a year now since she and her husband Lennart, after many years of sorrow and grief, had been able to bring home their adopted daughter from China. These days everything in their lives revolved around Leia.

Martin couldn’t imagine a better mother than Annika. She had such an air of warmth and concern, and she always made him feel secure. Right now he would have liked nothing more than to lean against her shoulder and let loose the tears that were threatening, but he restrained himself. If he started crying, he might never stop.

‘I think I’ll get out a few buns.’ She took a bag from the freezer and put two buns in the microwave. ‘I baked yesterday, and was planning to take some over to the station.’

‘I hope you realize that it’s not part of your job description to keep us supplied with treats,’ said Martin.

‘I don’t think Mellberg would agree with you about that. If I were to study my employment contract more carefully, I’m sure the small print would read: Supply the Tanum police station with homemade baked goods.’

‘My God, without you and the bakery, Bertil wouldn’t last a day.’

‘I know. Especially since Rita put him on a diet. According to Paula, they’re eating nothing but wholewheat bread and vegetables at Bertil and Rita’s flat lately.’

‘I’d like to see that.’ Martin burst out laughing. It was nice to laugh, and some of the tension he was feeling started to ease.

The microwave dinged, and Annika put the warm buns on a plate and then set two cups of coffee on the table as well.

‘All right now. Help yourself and then tell me what’s bothering you. I could see something was wrong earlier today, but I thought I’d let you talk about it in your own good time.’

‘It might not be anything, and I don’t want to bother you with my problems, but …’ Martin noticed with frustration that sobs were already rising in his throat.

‘Don’t be silly. That’s why I’m sitting here. Now tell me.’

Martin took a deep breath. ‘Pia is sick,’ he said at last, hearing how the words echoed off the walls in the kitchen.

He saw Annika’s face turn pale. This was probably not what she was expecting. He rotated the coffee cup between his hands and started over. Suddenly the words came pouring out.

‘She’s been feeling tired for a long time. Actually, ever since Tuva was born, but we thought nothing of it. It just seemed a normal response after having a baby. But Tuva is almost two now, and Pia hasn’t been feeling any better. In fact, it’s getting worse and worse. Then Pia noticed several lumps in her neck …’

Annika’s hand flew to her mouth, as if she understood where this conversation was going.

‘And a few weeks ago I went with her to see a doctor, and I could tell at once what he suspected. She got an immediate referral to see a specialist in Uddevalla, and we went there so she could have some tests. And now she has an appointment with an oncologist tomorrow afternoon to hear the results, but we already know what they’re going to say.’ Tears began rolling down his face, and he angrily wiped them away.

Annika handed him a paper napkin. ‘Go ahead and cry. It usually helps.’

‘It’s so unfair. Pia is only thirty-three, and Tuva is still a baby, and I’ve Googled the statistics, and if it’s what we think, the odds aren’t very good. Pia is being incredibly brave, but I’m such a bloody coward, and I can’t bear to talk to her about all this. I can hardly stand to see her with Tuva or even look her in the eye. I feel so damned useless!’ He could no longer hold back the tears. He leaned over the table, burying his head in his arms and sobbing so hard that his whole body shook.

Annika put her arm around his shoulders and pressed her cheek against his. She didn’t say a word, just kept stroking his back. After a while, he sat up, turned towards her, and crept into her arms. Annika gently rocked him, the way she would have rocked Leia if she’d hurt herself.

 

They had been lucky to find a table at the Café Bryggan. All of the outdoor seating was taken, and Leon watched as one shrimp sandwich after another was served. The location near Ingrid Bergman Square was perfect, with tables along the entire wharf, all the way out to the water.

‘I think we should buy the house,’ said Ia.

He turned to gape at his wife. ‘Ten million kronor isn’t exactly small change.’

‘Did I say it was?’ She leaned forward to straighten the blanket on his lap.

‘Leave the damn blanket alone. I’m sweating to death.’

‘You’re not supposed to catch cold. You know that.’

A waitress came over to their table, and Ia ordered a glass of wine for herself and mineral water for Leon. He glanced up at the young girl.

‘I’ll have a large beer,’ he said.

Ia gave him a reproachful look, but he merely nodded at the waitress. She reacted in the same way that everyone he met always did, making an exaggerated effort not to stare at the scars from the burns. When she left, he gazed out at the water.

‘It smells just the way I remember,’ said Leon. His hands, covered with thick scar tissue, rested in his lap.

‘I still don’t care for this place. But I’ll learn to like it if we buy the house,’ Ia said. ‘I have no intention of living in some hovel, and I don’t plan to be here all summer. A couple of weeks a year should be sufficient.’

‘Don’t you think it’s unreasonable to buy a house for ten million if we’re only planning to use it a couple of weeks a year?’

BOOK: Buried Angels
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ads

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