Authors: Camilla Lackberg
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #General
In that instant Axel had understood that the life he had built – a life filled with admiration and respect – would be destroyed. Images from the camp flooded his mind: the prisoner next to him who had been shoved into the pit they were digging, the hunger, the stench, the degradation. The rifle butt striking his ear so that something broke inside of him. The dead man toppling against him in the bus as they headed home to Sweden. Suddenly he was back there: the sounds, the smells, the rage that had smouldered in his heart, even when he had no strength left and could focus only on survival. He no longer saw his brother sitting in the chair in front of him. Instead, he saw all the people who had demeaned him, harmed him, and who were now jeering at him, rejoicing in the fact that this time he would be the one who was led to the scaffold. But he refused to give them that satisfaction, all those people, dead and alive, who were lined up to taunt him. He wouldn’t be able to survive that. And he had to survive. That was the only thing that mattered.
There was a rushing in his ear, worse than usual, and he stopped hearing what Erik was saying; he just saw his lips moving. And then it was no longer Erik. It was the blond youth from Grini who had seemed so friendly when they talked, who had duped him into believing that he was the one human in that inhuman place. That same boy who had raised his rifle and then, with his eyes fixed on Axel’s, smashed the butt down into Axel’s head.
Filled with rage and pain, Axel picked up the object closest at hand. He had raised the heavy stone bust, held it high overhead as Erik continued to talk and scribble on the notepad on his desk.
Then he had let the bust fall. He hadn’t exerted any force, just let gravity make the bust strike his brother’s head. No, not Erik’s head. The prison guard’s head. Or was it Erik, after all? Everything seemed so confused. He was at home in their library, but all the smells and sounds were so vivid. The stench of corpses, boots stomping in time, German commands that could signify one more day to live, or death.
Axel could still hear the sound of the heavy stone striking skin and bone. Then it was over. Erik uttered a single groan before slumping lifeless in his chair, eyes still open.
After the initial shock and the realization of what he had done, a peculiar calm had settled over Axel. What was done was done. He had placed the stone bust under the desk, pulled off the bloody gloves he was wearing, and stuffed them in his jacket pocket. Then he had pulled down all the blinds, locked the door, and got in his car. He drove to the airport and caught the first flight back to Paris. And over the weeks that followed he had tried to suppress the whole thing and throw himself into his work, until the police phoned him.
It had been difficult to return home. At first he didn’t know how he would bring himself to set foot in that house again. But after the two friendly police officers had collected him at the airport and dropped him off at home, he had pulled himself together and simply done what he had to do. And as the days passed he had made peace with Erik’s spirit, which he could still feel as a presence in the house. He knew that his brother had forgiven him. But Erik would never forgive him for what he had done to Britta. Axel hadn’t laid hands on her himself, but he knew what the consequences would be when he had that phone conversation with Frans. He knew what he was doing when he told Frans that Britta was going to reveal everything. He had chosen his words carefully. Said what was necessary to provoke Frans into action, like a deadly bullet aimed with precision. He knew that Frans’s political ambitions, his longing for power and status, would make him react. During their phone conversation Axel could already hear the ferocious anger that had always been Frans’s driving force. So he bore just as much blame for her death as Frans did.
He pictured her face the last time he had seen her. Still beautiful. And Herman, looking at her with an expression of love that Axel had never even come close to. That love, that sense of togetherness, was what he had taken from them.
Axel watched yet another plane take off, bound for some unknown destination. He had reached the end of the road. There was nowhere for him to go now.
It came as a relief, after hours of waiting, to feel at last the hand on his shoulder and hear a voice speaking his name.
* * *
Paula kissed Johanna on the cheek and then kissed her son on the head. She still couldn’t believe that she’d missed the whole thing. And that Mellberg had been here instead.
‘I’m so, so sorry,’ she repeated for the umpteenth time.
Johanna smiled tiredly. ‘I have to admit that I did my share of swearing when I couldn’t get hold of you, but I know it wasn’t your fault that you got locked in. I’m just glad that you’re all right.’
‘Me too. I mean, that you’re all right,’ said Paula, kissing her again. ‘And he is . . . amazing.’ She looked at her son in Johanna’s arms and could hardly believe that he was here. That he was actually here.
‘Take him,’ said Johanna, handing him to Paula, who sat down next to the bed, rocking the baby in her arms. ‘What are the odds that this would be the day Rita’s mobile would fail?’
‘I know. Mamma is completely devastated,’ said Paula, cooing to her newborn son. ‘She’s convinced that you’ll never speak to her again.’
‘Hey, she couldn’t help it. And I did find somebody to help me, after all.’ She laughed.
‘I still can’t get over it,’ said Paula. ‘You should just hear Bertil out in the waiting room with Mamma. He’s sitting there boasting about what a “splendid boy” our son is, and how great you were. If Mamma wasn’t in love with him before, she definitely is now. Good Lord.’ Paula shook her head.
‘There was a moment when I thought he was going to run away, but I have to admit that he’s made of stronger stuff than I realized.’
As if he’d heard them talking about him, Bertil knocked on the door and then appeared in the doorway with Rita.
‘Come in, come in,’ said Johanna, motioning to them. ‘We just want to see how you’re all doing,’ said Rita, going over to Paula and her grandson.
‘Of course. It’s been all of half an hour since you were here last,’ said Johanna, teasing her mother-in-law.
‘We just want to see if he’s grown any. And if he has a beard yet,’ said Mellberg, beaming, as he hesitantly approached, gazing tenderly the baby. Rita regarded Bertil with an expression that could only be interpreted as love.
‘Could I hold him again?’ Mellberg asked.
Paula nodded. ‘Sure, I think you’ve earned it,’ she said, handing him her son.
Then she leaned back and watched as Mellberg studied the baby, and Rita studied both of them. And she realized that, even though it had occurred to her that it might be nice for her son to have a male figure in his life, she had never really pictured Bertil Mellberg in that role. But now that she was actually facing the possibility, she thought it might not be such a bad idea after all.
He’d taken a chance that Erik would be at home. He thought it was important that they have a talk before he left for Norway. He trusted Erik. There was something sincere, something honest behind his rather reserved façade. And Hans knew that he was loyal. That was what he was counting on most of all. Because Hans couldn’t ignore the possibility that something might happen to him. He was going back to Norway, and even though the war was over, he couldn’t predict what might happen to him there. He had done things, unforgivable things, and his father had been one of the foremost symbols of the evil the Germans had done in his country. Now that he was going to be a father, Hans needed to think of all the eventualities. He couldn’t leave Elsy without a protector. And Erik was the only person he could think of who might fill that role. He knocked on the door.
Erik was not at home alone. Hans sighed to himself when he found Britta and Frans in the library as well. They were listening to records on Erik’s father’s gramophone.
‘Mamma and Pappa won’t be home until tomorrow,’ Erik explained as he took his usual place behind the desk. Hans stood in the doorway, hesitating.
‘I was actually hoping to talk to you in private,’ he said, looking at Erik.
‘What sort of secrets do the two of you have?’ Frans teased them, draping one leg over the armrest of the chair he was sitting on.
‘Yes, what are your secrets?’ Britta repeated, smiling at Hans.
Erik shrugged and got up. ‘Let’s step outside for a moment,’ he told Hans, heading for the porch. Hans followed, carefully shutting the door behind him. They sat down on the bottom step.
‘I have to go away for a few days,’ Hans said, poking at the gravel with the toe of his shoe.
‘Where are you going?’ asked Erik, pushing up his glasses, which kept slipping down his nose.
‘To Norway. I need to go home and . . . take care of a few things.’
‘Okay,’ said Erik, showing little interest.
‘And I want to ask you a favour.’
‘All right.’ Erik shrugged his shoulders. From inside the house they could hear the music playing on the gramophone. Frans must have turned up the volume.
Hans hesitated. Then he said, ‘Elsy is pregnant.’
Erik didn’t reply. He just pushed up his glasses again. ‘She’s pregnant, and I want to apply to the authorities for permission to marry her. But first I need to go back home and take care of things. So, if . . . if something happens to me . . . Will you promise to look after her?’
Erik still didn’t speak, and Hans waited nervously for his reply. He didn’t want to leave without knowing that someone he trusted had promised to help Elsy.
Finally Erik said, ‘Of course I’ll look after Elsy. Even though I think it’s unfortunate that you’ve put her in this situation. But why are you worried that something might happen to you?’ He frowned. ‘You should be welcomed back home as a hero. Why would anyone criticize you for fleeing when things got too dangerous?’ He turned to look at his friend.
But Hans ignored the question. He stood up and brushed off his trousers.
‘Of course nothing is going to happen. But just in case, I wanted to tell you about it. And now you’ve made me a promise.’
‘Okay, okay,’ said Erik, getting up too. ‘Do you want to come inside and say goodbye to the others before you go? My brother is home too. He got back yesterday,’ said Erik, his face lighting up.
‘I’m so glad to hear that,’ said Hans, patting Erik on the shoulder. ‘How is he? I heard that he was on his way home, but that he’d had a rough time of it.’
‘Yes, he did.’ A shadow passed over Erik’s face. ‘He had a rough time. And he’s very weak. But at least he’s home now!’ he said, his face lighting up again. ‘So why don’t you come inside and say hello. The two of you haven’t met yet.’
Hans smiled and nodded as he followed Erik back inside the house.
For the first few minutes, the mood around the kitchen table was tense. Then their nervousness began to vanish, and they were able to have a cheerful and relaxed conversation with their brother. Anna was still looking a bit shocked at the news, but she stared in amazement at Göran, who was sitting across from her.
‘Didn’t you ever wonder about your parents?’ asked Erica as she took a Dumlekola from the pile of sweets on the plate.
‘Of course I did, once in a while,’ said Göran. ‘But at the same time . . . as far as I was concerned, Mamma and Pappa – I mean, Wilhelm and Märta – were enough. Occasionally I did think about it, and I wondered why my mother had given me away.’ He hesitated. ‘But I hear she was in a difficult situation.’
‘Yes, she was,’ said Erica, glancing at Anna. She’d had a hard time deciding how much to tell her younger sister, whom she’d always had a tendency to protect. But in the end she realized that Anna had survived much worse situations than she had, so Erica had told her about all the information she’d gathered, including the diaries. Anna had taken everything in stride, and now here they sat, all together, in the house belonging to Erica and Patrik. Three siblings. Two sisters and a brother. It was an odd feeling, but in a strange way it felt so natural. Maybe it was true that blood was thicker than water.
‘So I assume it’s too late to start filling me in on who your latest boyfriends are, and things like that,’ laughed Göran, pointing at Patrik and Dan. ‘Looks like that’s a stage that I’ve missed, unfortunately.’
‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ said Erica, smiling and taking another Dumle.
‘By the way, I heard that you caught the murderer – the victim’s brother,’ said Göran, turning serious.
Patrik nodded. ‘Yes, he was waiting for a plane at the airport. It was strange, because he could have left at any time, and we probably never would have caught him. According to my colleagues, he was extremely cooperative.’
‘But why did he kill his brother?’ asked Dan, putting his arm around Anna’s shoulders.
‘They’re still interviewing him, so I don’t really know,’ replied Patrik, handing a piece of chocolate to Maja, who was sitting on the floor next to him, playing with the doll that Göran’s mother had given her.