The Drowning (18 page)

‘Sorry, Ludvig. I didn’t mean to scare you.’

The principal was standing behind him. She looked pale and tense, and in a fraction of a second, Ludvig knew why she wanted to talk to him. His thoughts of Sussie and everything else, which only a moment ago had seemed so important, instantly vanished, to be replaced by a pain so strong that he felt it would never let him go.

‘I’d like you to come with me to my office. Elin is waiting for us there.’

He nodded. There was no reason to ask what this was all about, since he already knew. The pain seemed to
radiate from his fingertips, and he couldn’t feel his feet as he followed the principal. He was moving his feet forward, as he knew he had to, but they were completely numb.

In the corridor, halfway to the principal’s office, he saw Sussie. She looked at him, staring him right in the eye. But it felt like an eternity ago that such an encounter had meant anything to him, and he looked right through her. Nothing existed but the pain. Everything else was a reverberating void.

Elin burst into tears when she saw him. She had probably been sitting there, fighting back the sobs, and when he entered the room she rushed into his arms. He hugged her tight, stroking her back as she cried.

The police officers, whom he’d met a few times before, were standing nearby, giving the two siblings a moment to comfort each other. He still hadn’t uttered a word.

‘Where did you find him?’ Ludvig asked at last, even though he wasn’t aware of having formulated the question. He wasn’t even sure that he wanted to hear the answer.

‘Down by Sälvik,’ said the officer whose name was apparently Patrik. His colleague took a couple of steps back. She seemed at a loss for words. Ludvig understood how she felt. He didn’t know what to say either. Or what to do.

‘We thought we’d drive you home now.’ Patrik nodded at Paula to lead the way. Elin and Ludvig followed. In the doorway Elin stopped and turned towards Patrik.

‘Did Pappa drown?’

Ludvig stopped too, but he could see that the officer had no intention of saying anything more at the moment.

‘Let’s go home, Elin. We’ll find out all the details later,’ he said quietly, taking his sister’s hand. At first she resisted. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to know
what happened. But then she turned again to follow Paula.

‘All right. Let’s have a look …’ Mellberg paused for effect. He pointed at the corkboard where Patrik had carefully pinned up all the material they’d collected pertaining to Magnus Kjellner’s disappearance. ‘I’ve gathered here what we know so far, and there’s not much to write home about. Three months on the case, and this is all you’ve managed to dig up? It’s just as well you’re all out here in the sticks – back in Göteborg we knew what it was to work in a pressure-cooker environment. We would have solved a case like this in a week!’

Patrik and Annika exchanged glances. As the police chief in Tanumshede, Mellberg was constantly reminding his colleagues of the time he’d spent working in Göteborg. Although by now it seemed he’d given up any hopes of being transferred back to the city. He was the only one who had ever believed that might happen.

‘We’ve done everything we could,’ said Patrik wearily. He was aware how pointless it was to try to counter Mellberg’s accusations. ‘Besides, it wasn’t until today that it became a murder investigation. We’ve been treating it as a missing persons case.’

‘Okay, okay. Would you mind reviewing what exactly happened? Where was his body found, who found it, and what has Pedersen told you so far? I’ll give him a ring later, of course. I just haven’t had time yet. So we’ll have to make do with the information you have at the moment.’

Patrik reported on the events of the day.

‘Was he really stuck in the ice?’ Martin Molin shuddered as he looked at Patrik.

‘We’ll have photographs of the crime scene later, but yes, he was frozen solid. If the dog hadn’t gone out on the ice, it would have taken a long time before we found
Magnus Kjellner. If ever. As soon as the ice thawed, his body would have come loose and then drifted away. He could have ended up anywhere.’ Patrik shook his head.

‘So I suppose that means we won’t be able to work out where or when he was tossed into the water, right?’ Gösta had a gloomy look on his face as he absentmindedly patted Ernst, who was pressed against his leg.

‘The ice didn’t set in until December. We’ll have to wait for Pedersen’s report to hear how long he thinks Magnus has been dead, but my guess is that he died right after he went missing.’ Patrik raised an admonitory finger. ‘But as I said, we have no facts to support that theory, so we can’t really use it as a basis for our investigation.’

‘But it does sound like a reasonable assumption,’ said Gösta.

‘You mentioned stab wounds. What do we know about that?’ Paula’s brown eyes narrowed as she impatiently tapped her pen on the notepad lying on the table in front of her.

‘I didn’t find out a lot about that either. You know how Pedersen is. He doesn’t really like to say anything until he’s done a thorough examination. The only thing he told me was that Kjellner had been assaulted and multiple stab wounds had been inflicted.’

‘Which seems to indicate that he’d been stabbed with a knife,’ Gösta added.

‘Most likely, yes.’

‘When are we going to get more information from Pedersen?’ Mellberg now sat at the head of the table and snapped his fingers to summon Ernst to his side. The dog instantly left Gösta and trotted over to place his head on his master’s knee.

‘He said he’d get to the post-mortem at the end of the week. So we might know more by the weekend, if we’re lucky. Otherwise early next week.’ Patrik sighed.
Sometimes the constraints of the job taxed his patience. He wanted answers now, not in a week.

‘All right. What do you know about his disappearance?’ Mellberg made a show of holding up his empty coffee cup towards Annika, who pretended not to notice. Next he tried Martin, with better results. Martin hadn’t yet achieved the status required to ignore his boss. Mellberg leaned back with satisfaction as his youngest colleague got up and headed for the kitchen.

‘We know that Kjellner left home just after eight in the morning. Cia had already left at seven thirty to drive to her job in Grebbestad. She works part-time in an estate agents office there. The children had to leave by seven to catch the bus to school.’ Patrik paused to take a sip of his coffee after Martin had refilled everyone’s cups. Paula took the opportunity to jump in with a question.

‘How do you know that Magnus Kjellner left just after eight?’

‘That’s when a neighbour saw him leaving the house.’

‘Did he drive off?’

‘No, Cia had taken the family’s only car, and according to her, Magnus usually walked.’

‘But he didn’t walk all the way to Tanum, did he?’ asked Martin.

‘No, he rode to work with a colleague of his, Ulf Rosander, who lives over by the mini-golf course. That was where he walked. But on that particular morning, he phoned Rosander to say he’d be late. And he never showed up.’

‘Do we know that?’ asked Mellberg. ‘Have we taken a proper look at this Rosander? After all, we have only his word that Magnus never turned up.’

‘Gösta went out to interview Rosander, and there’s nothing to indicate that he’s lying, either from what he said or the way he acted,’ said Patrik.

‘Maybe you haven’t pressured him enough,’ said Mellberg,
writing something on his notepad. He glanced up and fixed his gaze on Patrik. ‘Let’s bring him in and grill him a little more.’

‘Isn’t that a bit drastic? People might hesitate to talk to the police in future if they hear that we’ve started hauling witnesses down to the station,’ Paula objected. ‘How about if you and Patrik drive out to his place in Fjällbacka? Of course, I know that you’re extremely busy at the moment, so I could go with Patrik instead, if you like.’ She gave Patrik a discreet wink.

‘Hmmm, that’s true. I do have quite a lot on my plate right now. That’s a good idea, Paula. You and Patrik can drive over there and have another chat with … Rosell.’

‘Rosander,’ Patrik corrected him.

‘Right. That’s what I said.’ Mellberg glared at Patrik. ‘At any rate, I want you and Paula to talk to him. I think that could be productive.’ He waved his hand impatiently. ‘So, what else? What more do we know?’

‘We’ve knocked on doors all along the route that Magnus used to take when he walked over to Rosander’s house. Nobody saw anything, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. People are always busy with their own morning routines,’ said Patrik.

‘It seems Magnus just disappeared in a puff of smoke the minute he stepped out the front door. Until we found him in the ice, that is.’ Martin had a resigned expression on his face as he looked at Patrik, who made an effort to sound more positive than he actually felt.

‘No one just disappears. Somewhere there are traces of what happened. We just have to find them.’

Patrik could hear the platitudes rolling a bit too glibly from his lips, but he had nothing else to offer.

‘What about his personal life? Have we dug deep enough? Pulled all the skeletons out of the wardrobe?’ Mellberg laughed at his own joke, but no one joined in.

‘Magnus and Cia’s closest friends are Erik Lind, Kenneth Bengtsson, and Christian Thydell. And their wives. We’ve talked to all of them, along with Magnus’s family members. But the only thing we’ve learned is that Magnus was a devoted father and a good friend. No gossip, no secrets, no rumours.’

‘Rubbish!’ Mellberg snorted. ‘Everybody has something to hide. It’s just a matter of digging it out. You clearly haven’t tried hard enough.’

‘Of course …’ Patrik began. But then he fell silent as he realized that Mellberg might actually be right, for a change. Maybe they hadn’t dug deep enough, maybe they hadn’t asked the right questions. ‘Of course we’ll do another round of interviews with his family and friends,’ he went on. He suddenly pictured Christian Thydell, and the letter that lay in the top drawer of his desk. But Patrik didn’t want to say anything about that yet, not until he had something more concrete to go on. So far it was just a gut feeling.

‘Okay then. Let’s do it over, and do it right!’ Mellberg stood up so fast that Ernst, who had been resting his head on his master’s knee, almost toppled over. The police chief was halfway out of the door when he turned and gave his subordinates a stern look as they sat around the table. ‘And let’s pick up the pace a bit too.’

Dark had fallen outside the train windows. He’d got up so early that morning that it now felt more like evening, even though his watch told him it was only late afternoon. In his pocket his mobile stubbornly buzzed again and again, but he ignored it. No matter who was trying to call, it was bound to be someone who wanted something from him. Someone trying to chase him down and make demands.

Christian stared out of the window. They had just passed
Herrljunga. He’d left his car in Uddevalla. From there it was about a forty-five-minute drive home to Fjällbacka. He leaned his forehead on the pane and closed his eyes. The glass felt cold against his skin. The darkness outside seemed to be forcing its way inward, towards him. He gasped for breath, opened his eyes, and moved his head back. His forehead and the tip of his nose had left a visible print on the windowpane. He raised his hand and rubbed it off. He didn’t want to look at that, didn’t want to see any trace of himself.

When the train arrived in Uddevalla, he was so tired that he could barely see straight. He’d tried to doze off during the last hour of the trip, but images kept flickering through his mind, keeping him awake. He stopped at the McDonald’s on the road to Torp and bought a large coffee, which he quickly downed for the sake of the caffeine.

His mobile was buzzing again, but he didn’t feel like taking the phone out of his pocket, much less talking to whoever was so persistently trying to reach him. It was probably Sanna. She would be annoyed with him when he finally got home, but he didn’t care.

He could feel a prickling sensation in his body, and he shifted position in the driver’s seat. The headlamps from the car behind him were shining in his rear-view mirror, and he was temporarily blinded when he shifted his gaze to the road ahead. There was something about those headlamps – the steadily maintained distance, and the glare – that made him glance in the rear-view mirror again. It was the same car that had been behind him ever since he stopped in Torp. Or was it? He rubbed his eyes. He was no longer sure about anything.

The lights stayed with him as he turned off the motorway at the sign for Fjällbacka. Christian squinted, trying to make out what model car was following him. But it was too dark, and the headlamps were too bright.
His hands were sweaty as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He was holding on so hard that his hands started to ache, and he briefly let go to flex his fingers.

He pictured her in his mind. She was wearing the blue dress, holding the child in her arms. The scent of strawberries, the taste of her lips. The feeling of the dress fabric against his skin. Her hair, long and brown.

Something jumped out in front of his car. Christian braked hard and for several seconds, the tyres lost contact with the road. The car slid towards the ditch, and he could feel that he’d lost control of the vehicle; he just let it happen. But a few centimetres from the edge, the car came to a halt. The white rump of a deer was clearly visible in the light of the headlamps, and he watched the animal leaping with fright across the field.

The engine was still running, but the sound was drowned out by the roar inside his head. In his rear-view mirror he noticed that the car behind him had also stopped, and he knew that he ought to get going. Away from those headlamps shining in the mirror.

A car door opened and someone got out of the other vehicle. Who was that coming towards him? It was so dark outside, and he couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman approaching. A few more steps and the dark figure would reach his door.

Christian’s hands began shaking as he continued to grip the wheel. He looked away from the mirror to stare out across the open field at the edge of the forest, which was vaguely discernible a short distance away. He stared and waited. The door on the passenger side of his car opened.