The Man Who Watched Women (34 page)

Now he was on Storskärsgatan. Again. Sebastian had been there on a number of occasions. Not inside, but outside. Mostly on Thursdays when Vanja Lithner was there visiting the people who must be her parents. Anna Eriksson and Valdemar Lithner. But today Sebastian had waited until Valdemar Lithner left the building, then he had gone in. Was he sleeping with Vanja's mother? It was possible. Anything was possible. He had never managed to work out the connection between Sebastian and this family. He wasn't having a sexual relationship with Vanja, the tall man was sure of that, which was why he had never reported back on the time Sebastian spent outside her apartment block.

The tall man leaned forward and looked over at number 12. He hoped Sebastian would soon come out. Admittedly it was high summer, but the darkness would soon come. Like in the cellar. When the naked light bulb had gone out.

Anna Eriksson's head was spinning. She had read that phrase several times in various books, but she had never really been able to imagine it. Now she understood exactly how it felt.

Someone was killing Sebastian's former lovers. The murders she had read about. She was one of Sebastian's former lovers.

She could die.

She had argued that nobody knew about them. But he said he'd been followed. So did this mean more people knew about them? And about Vanja?

She could die. This was insane.

Sebastian was sitting next to her on the sofa. She hadn't offered him anything when he came in. He definitely wasn't staying. But he was still here.

On her sofa.

In her living room.

In her life.

Which from the moment he arrived had become unimaginably complicated. She realised she was sitting there in silence, simply staring into space. Unseeing.

Sebastian leaned a little closer. ‘Did you understand what I said?'

Anna nodded slowly and transferred her gaze to his face, as if to confirm that she was answering the question. ‘Yes, but that's crazy. No one knows.'

‘I thought no one knew about the others either. But if he found them, he can find you.'

Anna nodded again. It had been more than twenty years since Sebastian had been with two of the women. All the victims were in the Stockholm area. Family and friends around them. And yet they still died. The threat was real. The anxiety made her stomach churn. It almost felt like cramps. Oddly enough it seemed as if the realisation that she could be in mortal danger was still overshadowed by the consequent fear that someone somewhere could have worked out the truth about her daughter.

‘So someone might know about Vanja as well?' Anna asked, her voice little more than a whisper.

‘There's no reason to think so, and that's not what this is about.' Sebastian paused. He gave in to an impulse; he reached out and took her hand. ‘You need to disappear for a while.'

Anna jerked her hand away as she got to her feet. He wasn't allowed to touch her. To console her or try to make her feel better. This was all his fault. If it turned out that she needed help, Sebastian Bergman was the last person she intended to ask.

‘I can't just take off.' She took a few rapid steps across the floor and spread her hands in a gesture which underlined the fact that this just wasn't an option. ‘I've got a job. A family. A life.'

‘And that's exactly why you have to leave.'

Anna stopped dead. In the middle of the room. He was right, of course. Unfortunately.

‘Isn't there someone you could go and stay with for a while?' Sebastian asked from the sofa.

‘Well yes, I suppose so, but I can't just disappear, can I? What do I say to everyone? To Valdemar? And Vanja? What do I say to Vanja?'

‘Nothing. You can't say anything to her about why you're going, because if you do she'll work it out.'

Anna nodded. Concentrated.

Sebastian got up and went over to her. ‘Go and stay with someone,' he urged. ‘Are your parents still alive?'

‘My mother is.'

‘Go and see her.'

‘I don't know …' Anna left the rest of the sentence hanging in the air as she thought things over. She was starting to get her head straight. In sharp contrast to a few moments ago, her brain was firing on all cylinders now. Thoughts that had been whirling around in a meaningless mess now presented themselves with clarity, enabling her to dismiss them or give them further consideration.

‘Would it seem all that strange if you went to stay with her for a week?' Sebastian asked, keen to get a definite decision before he left Anna.

‘With no warning. Yes, it would. We don't exactly have that kind of relationship.' But in spite of her firm response, Anna had already begun to toy with a possible scenario.

Her mother could have phoned while Valdemar was out. Just now, this evening. Asked her to come over. Because she wasn't feeling too good, or because of something to do with the house – because she needed help, anyway. Valdemar would believe that. Then she could go. She would invent some story for her mother to explain her sudden appearance. A lot going on at work. At the end of her tether. Just had to get away from everything. If Valdemar rang, could her mother please be an angel and say that she was the one who had asked for Anna's help? She didn't want to worry him. Not when he was just getting over his cancer. Her mother would go along with that. Would lie for her sake. Anna could stay there for a while. Come back when they'd caught the murderer. Tell her mother she was feeling much better, and if the topic ever came up at a family dinner or at Christmas or something, she would simply laugh it off and say that her mother had misunderstood. Nobody would dig any deeper. It could work. It would work.

It had to work.

‘You can't stay here,' Sebastian persisted. ‘If anything should happen to you, if they found you … Then Vanja would find out. In the worst way imaginable.'

‘I know, but I can't go tonight.'

‘Why not?'

Because it didn't fit in with her plan. The situation mustn't appear too urgent, or Valdemar would insist on going with her. She would go tomorrow. It would still be a bit of a rush, but it was achievable.

‘It's just not possible,' she said to Sebastian. She had neither the desire nor the energy to explain what she was planning. ‘But I'll be fine. Valdemar will be home soon.'

‘I could wait until he gets here.'

‘No! I want you to go. Now. Right this minute.' Anna could feel herself regaining control after the initial shock. She would sort this out, just as she had sorted out every other problem that had arisen over the years. But Sebastian had to go. She grabbed hold of him and pushed him towards the hallway.

Sebastian realised there was nothing more he could do. He walked into the hallway. ‘Don't open the door to anyone but Valdemar.'

‘He's got a key.'

As Sebastian turned and saw Anna standing in the middle of the living room deep in thought, he suddenly realised how much trouble he had caused. It was only a couple of months since her husband had been told his cancer was in remission. How long had she lived with the knowledge that her life partner might die? Months? Years? And now he had turned up with yet another threat, bringing death into this cosy apartment once more.

‘I'm sorry.'

Words he rarely used, but they were sincerely meant. He paused with his hand on the door handle. He really did want to know, and he could hardly be any less popular than he already was, or cause even more grief than he already had.

‘Has he never asked?'

‘Who?' Anna's thoughts were somewhere else altogether.

‘Valdemar. Has he never asked who her father is?'

The expression on Anna's face made it clear that this was not a topic she wished to discuss. Not with him. Not with anyone.

‘Once,' she said curtly. ‘But I didn't tell him.'

‘And he left it at that?'

Anna shrugged. ‘He's a good man.'

‘I've realised that.'

Silence. What else was there to say? Sebastian opened the door. ‘I'm sorry,' he said again as he stepped out onto the dark landing.

‘Yes, so you said.'

She closed the door behind him. Sebastian stood there for a moment, aware of how tired he was. Physically and mentally. This had been the longest day of his life, and it wasn't over yet. One more stop. One more. He set off down the stairs with a heavy tread.

The tall man was on the point of giving up when he saw Sebastian step out of the doorway further down the street, his mobile clamped to his ear. He slid down behind the wheel as far as he could without losing sight of his quarry. He was pretty sure the distance, the slightly reflective windscreen and the gathering dusk would make him impossible to spot even if Sebastian should look in his direction. But he didn't. He put the phone in his pocket and set off in the opposite direction. The tall man stayed where he was, watching him. Sebastian stopped at the crossroads; he looked as if he was waiting for something.

After five minutes a taxi pulled up. Sebastian got in and it drove off. The tall man turned the key in the ignition and began to follow. A little while longer. He could spare half an hour before duty called.

He was enjoying this. Not the pursuit in itself, but what it might lead to.

Number five.

Perhaps number six.

He had been given only the names and addresses of the first three women via the website. He had checked up on them, found out as much as he felt he needed to know about their lives, and chosen his time. Number four was different. Suddenly it had to be someone who had been with Sebastian Bergman recently. In order to make the pattern clear. It had worked. Riksmord had made the connection, he knew that. They had worked out the common denominator. The fact that Sebastian was involved in the investigation proved that. According to the Master, this should lead to Sebastian examining his conscience and attempting to warn some of his former partners. Not all of them, that would be impossible of course, but he ought to get in touch with those who were comparatively recent or who meant the most to him so that they could be protected. Was Vanja Lithner's mother one of them? Was that why Sebastian had gone there this evening? Could be. Worth reporting back, at any rate.

The taxi was driving along Valhallavägen. The wrong direction if Sebastian was going home. Was he going to warn someone else? The tall man couldn't suppress a smile. Perhaps he would be allowed to make the choice himself this time. To determine life and death. Him. No one else. He had been given that power. For that he would be eternally grateful.

Imagine if he had had it back then.

After the wedding and the move to the elegant apartment in the inner city, Lennart had become a frequent guest in their home, sometimes with his wife but usually alone. When Sofia and his father were going out, which happened quite often, Lennart would come and babysit.

He liked his ‘grandfather'. They did his homework together, played cards, and he even tried to teach the older man how to play Nintendo. He hadn't yet made any friends at his new school, but Lennart often took him out on weekends. Skansen, Kaknäs Tower, Djurgården, the Royal Palace, places most of his contemporaries had already visited or at least heard of, but which were more or less unknown to him. Lennart also let him try out different things to see what he enjoyed. They went fishing, ice skating, berry picking, ten-pin bowling and to the adventure pool.

He really enjoyed those outings with his grandfather. His father and Sofia never wanted to come along. On the contrary, they seemed to appreciate the fact that he disappeared for a few hours now and again. Nothing was actually said, of course, but the years with his mother had given him an almost unique ability to read the moods of adults by interpreting glances and body language. It had come to him naturally as a way of avoiding problems. Adapting himself completely to her. Her wishes were always more important than his.

One day he had been picked up by Lennart as usual. Full of anticipation. They were going on a trip.

‘Where are we going?' he had asked.

‘You'll see,' was the answer.

They had driven along in silence. His grandfather seemed more tense than usual. Taciturn, almost brusque. He had tried to interpret in order to adapt, but he couldn't understand the signals. Lennart was giving off a new aura, a kind of reserve he hadn't come across before. So he sat quietly. It seemed to work well.

Out of the city. Smaller roads. Lots of twists and turns; sometimes he got the feeling they were driving back the way they had come, but he never asked. He had no idea where they were when Lennart turned down a narrow forest track which ended at a small brown wooden house in a clearing. A pitched green metal roof, with green window ledges and shutters.

Lennart had switched off the engine and they had both sat looking at the little house.

‘What's this place?' he had asked.

‘It's a lodge.'

‘Is it yours?'

‘No.'