The Preacher (37 page)

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Authors: Camilla Läckberg

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Thrillers, #Crime, #Juvenile Fiction

BOOK: The Preacher
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‘I, I … I don’t really know,’ Jacob stammered. ‘I was still in hospital then.’ A thought struck him like a bolt of lightning. ‘Are you trying to make it look like Pappa killed Johannes?’ The thought made him start to snigger. ‘You’re out of your minds. My father, murder his brother? No, that’s impossible!’ The snigger changed to a laugh. Neither Gösta nor Patrik looked amused.

‘Do you think this is something to laugh at? The fact that your uncle Johannes was murdered? Is that something you think is amusing?’ said Patrik, carefully enunciating each word.

Jacob abruptly fell silent and looked down. ‘No, of course not. It’s just such a shock …’ He raised his eyes again. ‘But now I understand even less why you want to talk to me. I was just ten years old and in hospital at the time, so I presume you’re not going to try to claim I had anything to do with it.’ He emphasized ‘I’ to show how absurd it was. ‘It seems quite obvious what happened. Whoever murdered Siv and Mona must have thought it was perfect when you picked Johannes to be the scapegoat. And because the real killer could never be completely absolved, he killed Johannes and made it look like a suicide. The murderer knew how people here would react. They would regard it as proof of his guilt; it was as good as a written confession. And the same person must have murdered that German tourist. That makes sense, doesn’t it?’ he said eagerly. His eyes were shining.

‘A very good theory,’ said Patrik. ‘Not bad at all, if you ignore the fact that we compared the DNA that we took from Johannes yesterday with a DNA sample that we took from the semen on Tanja’s corpse. It turned out that Johannes is related to the person who murdered Tanja.’ He waited for Jacob’s reaction. There was none. He seemed turned to stone.

Patrik went on. ‘So today we took blood samples from everyone in your family. We’re going to send them to Göteborg for analysis, along with the sample we took from you when you arrived here. We’re quite sure that we’ll soon have proof in black and white of who the murderer is. So don’t you think it would be a good idea if you told us what you know, Jacob? Tanja was seen at your house, the murderer is related to Johannes – it’s quite a coincidence, don’t you think?’

The colour in Jacob’s face had changed. It alternated from pale to blazing crimson, and Patrik could see his jaws grinding.

‘That testimony is bullshit, and you know it. Stefan only wanted to get me arrested because he detests our family. And as far as blood tests and DNA and all that is concerned, you can take all the samples you want, but you’ll beg my forgiveness when you’ve got the results!’

‘In that event I promise to beg your forgiveness personally,’ Patrik replied calmly. ‘But until then I intend to get the answers I need.’

He wished that Martin and his group would have finished searching the house before they interrogated Jacob, but with the clock ticking they had to make the best of things. The question they most wanted answered was whether analyses of the soil at Västergården showed traces of FZ-302. Patrik hoped that Martin would report on any physical traces of Tanja or Jenny soon, but they couldn’t do the soil analyses on the spot – those would take time. He was actually sceptical about whether they would succeed in finding anything at the farm. Was it possible to conceal someone and murder the person without Marita or the children seeing anything? Instinctively Patrik felt that Jacob fit the role of prime suspect, but that very fact troubled him. How could Jacob have hidden his victims at the farm where he lived, without the family suspecting anything?

As if Jacob could read his thoughts, he said, ‘I certainly hope that you haven’t turned everything upside down at home. Marita will be beside herself if she comes home and the house is one huge mess.’

‘I believe the men are very careful,’ said Gösta.

Patrik looked at his telephone. He hoped Martin would call soon.

Stefan had retreated to the silence of the shed. Solveig’s reaction first to the exhumation and then the blood tests had made his skin crawl. He couldn’t stand all the emotions and needed to sit by himself for a while and think over everything that had happened. The concrete floor he was sitting on was hard, but wonderfully cool. He wrapped his arms round his legs and rested his cheek on one knee. Right now he missed Linda more than ever, but his longing was still mixed with anger. Maybe it would never be any different. At least he had lost some of his naïveté and taken back control. He never should have let it go. But she had been like poison in his soul. Her firm young body had turned him into a babbling idiot. He was furious with himself for letting a girl get under his skin like that.

He knew that he was a dreamer. That’s why he had felt so infatuated with Linda. Even though she was way too young, too self-assured, too selfish. He was convinced that she would never stay in Fjällbacka and that they didn’t have a ghost of a chance of a future together. But the dreamer in him had still had a hard time accepting that. Now he knew better.

Stefan promised himself that he would improve. He would try to become more like Robert. Tough, hard, invincible. Robert always landed on his feet. Nothing seemed to touch him. Stefan envied him that.

A sound behind him made him turn round, thinking that Robert had come in. Hands gripped his throat and he could hardly breathe.

‘Don’t move or I’ll break your neck.’

Stefan vaguely recognized the voice but couldn’t place it. When the grip round his neck was released he was tossed hard against the wall. The air was knocked out of him.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Stefan tried to turn round, but someone had seized hold of him and was pressing his face against the cold concrete wall.

‘Shut up.’ The voice was implacable. Stefan wondered whether he should call for help but didn’t think anyone would hear him up at the house.

‘What the hell do you want?’ The words were difficult to form with half his face pressed hard against the wall.

‘What I want? Well, you’re going to find out.’

When the attacker made his demands, at first Stefan didn’t understand any of it. But when he was turned round so that he stood eye to eye with the person who had attacked him, all the bits fell into place. A punch in the face told him that the assailant was serious. But defiance welled up inside him.

‘Fuck you,’ mumbled Stefan. His mouth was slowly filling with some fluid that could only be blood. His thoughts had begun to grow hazy, but he refused to give in.

‘You’re going to do as I say.’

‘No,’ Stefan mumbled.

Then the punches started raining down on him. They struck him rhythmically until a vast darkness swept in.

* * *

The farm was marvellous. Martin couldn’t help making that observation as they started their work of encroaching on the private lives of Jacob and his family. The colours in the house were pastel, the rooms radiated warmth and calm and had a country feel to them, with white linen tablecloths and light, fluttering curtains. He would have loved to have a home like this. And now they had to disturb this peace. Methodically they went through the house, bit by bit. No one said a word; they worked in utter silence. Martin concentrated on the living room. The frustrating thing was that they didn’t know what they were looking for. Martin wasn’t sure that they would recognize traces of the girls even if they found any.

For the first time since he had so strongly advocated that Jacob was the one they were searching for, he began to have his doubts. It was impossible to imagine that someone who lived like this in such peaceful surroundings would be able to kill someone.

‘How’s it going?’ he called to the officers upstairs.

‘Nothing yet,’ one of them called back. Martin sighed and continued opening bureau drawers and turning over everything that wasn’t nailed down.

‘I’ll go out and start checking the barn,’ he said to the officer from Uddevalla who was taking part in the search of the ground floor.

The barn was mercifully cool. He understood why Linda and Stefan had made this their trysting place. The smell of hay tickled his nostrils and brought back memories from his childhood summers. He climbed up the ladder to the loft and peered out through the cracks between the boards. Yes, there was a good view of Västergården from here, just as Stefan had said. It would be no problem to recognize someone from this distance.

Martin climbed back down. The barn was empty except for some old agricultural implements that were rusting away. He didn’t think they would find anything here, but he would still ask some of the others to take another look. He left the barn and scanned the area. Besides the manor house and the barn there was only a little garden shed and a playhouse that they hadn’t yet searched. He held no hope of finding anything in either place. Both were too small to hold a person, but for safety’s sake they should still check them.

The sun was broiling his scalp and making beads of sweat form on his forehead. He went back to the manor house to help with the search, but his enthusiasm from earlier in the day had begun to wane. His heart sank. Jenny Möller was somewhere. But not here.

Even Patrik had begun to despair. After a couple of hours of interrogation they had got nowhere with Jacob. He seemed to be genuinely shocked at the news that Johannes was murdered, and he stubbornly refused to say anything but that they were harassing his family and he was innocent. Time after time Patrik caught himself glancing at the mobile phone, mocking him with its silence as it lay on the table in front of him. He was in desperate need of some good news. They wouldn’t have any answers about the blood samples until at least early tomorrow morning, he knew that, so he had fixed his hopes on Martin and the team going through Västergården. But no call came. It wasn’t until just after four in the afternoon that Martin rang and dejectedly reported that they had found nothing and were giving up. Patrik motioned to Gösta to come out of the interrogation room.

‘That was Martin. They didn’t find anything.’

The hope in Gösta’s eyes died out. ‘Nothing?’

‘No, not a damn thing. So we don’t seem to have any other choice but to release him. Shit.’ Patrik slapped his hand on the wall but then collected himself quickly again. ‘Oh well, it’s only temporary. Tomorrow I expect to get a report on the blood samples, and then maybe we can pick him up for good.’

‘Sure, but think what he might do before then. He knows what we’ve got on him now, and if we release him he could go straight back and kill the girl.’

‘So what the hell do you think we should do?’ Patrik’s frustration turned to anger, but he saw the injustice of lashing out at Gösta and immediately apologized.

‘I want to make one more attempt to get some answers about the blood samples before we let him go. They might have been able to find something we can use right now. They know why we’re in a hurry, and they’ve put us first in line.’

Patrik went into his office and dialled the number for Pathology on his landline. By this time he knew the number by heart. Outside the window the traffic was roaring past as usual in the summer sunshine. For a moment he was envious of all the clueless holiday-makers driving past with their cars stuffed full. He wished that he too could be so oblivious.

‘Hello, Pedersen, it’s Patrik Hedström. Thought I’d check to see if you’d found anything before we release our suspect.’

‘Didn’t I tell you we wouldn’t be done until early tomorrow morning? And we’re going to have to put in a bunch of overtime tonight, you should know.’ Pedersen sounded stressed and irritated.

‘I know, but I just wondered if you’d found anything.’

A long silence indicated that Pedersen was fighting an internal battle about something, and Patrik sat up straighter in his chair.

‘You did find something, didn’t you?’

‘It’s only preliminary. We have to check and double-check before we can release any information, otherwise the consequences could be disastrous. Besides, the tests then have to be repeated by the Swedish Crime Lab. Our equipment isn’t anywhere near as sophisticated as theirs, and – ’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Patrik interrupted, ‘I know that, but a seventeen-year-old girl’s life is at stake here, so if there’s any time when you should relax the rules, it’s now.’ He held his breath and waited.

‘All right, but use the information cautiously. You have no idea how much shit I could get if …’ Pedersen didn’t finish his sentence.

‘Word of honour, now tell me what you’ve got.’ He was holding the receiver so tight that it felt sweaty.

‘Naturally we began by analysing Jacob Hult’s blood sample. And we found some interesting things – preliminary of course,’ Pedersen warned him again.

‘Yes?’

‘According to our first test, Jacob Hult’s DNA does not match the semen sample taken from the victim’s body.’

Patrik slowly exhaled. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath.

‘How certain is it?’

‘As I said, we have to run the test several times to be completely certain, but that’s actually only a formality to protect the legal rights of the individual. You can probably count on it being correct.’

‘Damn it all. That does throw a different light on the case.’ Patrik couldn’t keep the disappointment out of his voice. He saw now that he’d been completely positive that Jacob was the one they were looking for. This as good as took them back to square one.

‘And you didn’t find a match when you examined the other samples?’

‘We haven’t got that far yet. We assumed that you wanted us to concentrate on Jacob Hult, and that’s what we did. So besides him we’ve only finished with one other person. But sometime in the morning I’ll be able to inform you about the rest.’

‘Well, by then I’ll have to let the guy go from the interrogation room. And offer him an apology,’ Patrik sighed.

‘Oh, there’s one more thing.’

‘Yes?’

Pedersen hesitated. ‘The second sample we got started analysing is Gabriel Hult’s. And …’

‘Yes?’ said Patrik even more insistently.

‘Well, according to our analysis of their respective DNA structure, it’s impossible for Gabriel to be Jacob’s father.’

Patrik sat dead still in his chair, dumbstruck.

‘Are you still there?’

‘Yes, I’m here. That was just not anything I’d expected. Are you sure?’ Then he realized what the answer would be and anticipated what Pedersen was going to say: ‘It’s only preliminary and you have to do more tests et cetera et cetera, I know, you don’t have to tell me again.’

‘Is it something that might be important for the investigation?’

‘Right now everything is important, so it’s certainly something we could use. Thanks for everything.’

Patrik sat bewildered for a moment, thinking hard with his hands clasped behind his head and his feet on the desk. Jacob’s negative test would force them to rethink the case completely. The fact still remained that Tanja’s killer was related to Johannes, and with Jacob out of the game only Gabriel, Stefan and Robert remained. One down, three to go. But even though Jacob wasn’t their perp, Patrik could bet that he knew something. During the entire interrogation he had noticed something evasive about Jacob, something the man fought hard to keep below the surface. The information that Patrik had received from Pedersen might give the police the advantage they needed to shake Jacob up enough to make him talk. Patrik took his feet down from the desk and got up. He briefly summarized for Gösta what he’d found out, and then they went back to the interrogation room, where Jacob, bored to death, sat picking at his fingernails. They had hastily agreed on the tactic they would use.

‘How long do I have to sit here?’

‘We have the right to hold you for six hours. But as we mentioned, you also have the right to have a lawyer present whenever you want. Do you want to call a lawyer?’

‘No, it’s not necessary,’ replied Jacob. ‘An innocent man needs no other defender than his faith that God will set everything right.’

‘Okay, then you must be well equipped. You and God seem to be like this,’ said Patrik, holding up his hand with the first two fingers together.

‘We know where we stand with each other,’ said Jacob guardedly. ‘And I feel sorry for anyone who goes through life without God.’

‘So you feel sorry for us poor wretches, is that what you’re saying?’ said Gösta with amusement in his voice.

‘It’s a waste of time talking to you two. You’ve closed your hearts.’

Patrik leaned towards Jacob. ‘Interesting, all this talk about God and the Devil and sin and that whole song and dance. How do your parents fit into the picture? Are they living in accordance with God’s commandments?’

‘Father may have taken a step back from the congregation, but his faith remains strong. Both he and Mother are God-fearing people.’

‘Are you sure about that? I mean, what do you actually know about how they live?’

‘What do you mean? I know my own parents. Have you cooked up something else to drag their names through the mud?’

Jacob’s hands were trembling, and Patrik felt a certain satisfaction at being able to upset his stoic calm.

‘I only mean that there’s no way for you actually to know what goes on in someone else’s life. Your parents may have sins on their conscience that you have no idea about, isn’t that right?’

Jacob got up and headed for the door. ‘No, now that’s enough. Arrest me or let me go, because I’m not going to sit here any longer listening to your lies!’

‘Did you know, for example, that Gabriel is not your father?’

Jacob stopped short, with his hand halfway to the door handle. He turned round slowly. ‘What did you say?’

‘I asked if you knew that Gabriel is not your father. I just spoke with the lab doing the tests on the blood samples you all provided, and there is definitely no doubt about it. Gabriel is not your father.’

All colour had drained from Jacob’s face. The news had certainly caught him by surprise. ‘They tested my blood?’ he said with a quavering voice.

‘Yes, and I did promise to apologize if I was wrong.’

Jacob just stared at him.

‘I apologize,’ said Patrik. ‘Your blood does not match the DNA we found on the victim.’

Jacob collapsed like a punctured balloon. He sat down heavily on the chair. ‘So, what happens now?’

‘You are no longer a suspect in the murder of Tanja Schmidt. But I still think you’re hiding something from us. Now you have a chance to tell us what you know. I think you should take it, Jacob.’

He merely shook his head. ‘I don’t know anything. I don’t know anything any more. Please, can’t I go now?’

‘Not yet. We want to talk to your mother first, before you leave. Because I assume you may have a few things you want to ask her about.’

Jacob nodded mutely. ‘But why do you want to talk to her? Surely it can’t have anything to do with your investigation.’

Patrik found himself repeating what he’d said to Pedersen. ‘Right now everything has to do with the investigation. You’re all hiding something. I would bet a month’s salary on it. And we intend to find out what it is, by any means necessary.’

All the fight seemed to have gone out of Jacob, and all he could do was nod in resignation. The news seemed to have put him in a state of shock.

‘Gösta, could you drive out and pick up Laine?’

‘We don’t have a warrant to bring her in, do we?’ Gösta said morosely.

‘She has no doubt heard that we have Jacob under interrogation, so it probably won’t be hard to convince her to come along voluntarily.’

Patrik turned to Jacob. ‘We’ll bring you something to eat and drink, and then you’ll have to wait here until we’ve talked with your mother. After that you’ll have a chance to talk to her yourself. Okay?’

Jacob nodded apathetically. He seemed deep in his own thoughts.

It was with mixed feelings that Anna put the key in the lock back home in Stockholm. Getting away for a while had been wonderful, both for her and the children, but it had also cooled her enthusiasm for Gustav. To be honest, it had been rather trying to be cooped up on a sailboat with him and all his nit-picking. And there was also something in Lucas’s tone of voice the last time they talked that had worried her. Despite all the abuse he had subjected her to, he had always given the impression of being in full control over himself and the situation. Now for the first time she had heard a note of panic in his voice, a hint that things might be happening that were not under his control. From a mutual acquaintance she’d heard the rumour that things were starting to fall apart for him at work. He had flown off the handle during an in-house meeting and insulted a client on another occasion. Cracks had begun to appear in his façade. And that scared her. It scared her enormously.

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