‘Ebba also liked to pick raspberries, and she’d eat every single one of them,’ said Gösta reluctantly. ‘There weren’t any left to make jam or juice during that summer she lived with us. But Maj-Britt didn’t care. It was so much fun to see the little lass standing there in her nappy, stuffing handfuls of raspberries into her mouth, with the juice running down her tummy.’
‘Ebba lived here with you?’
‘Yes, but only for the summer. Then she moved to a family in Göteborg.’
Erica sat in silence, trying to take in what Gösta had just told her. How odd. When she’d done her research on the case, she’d found no mention of Ebba living with Gösta and Maj-Britt. Suddenly she understood why he was so involved in this investigation.
‘Did you ever think about keeping her?’ she asked.
Gösta stared at his coffee cup as he stirred the spoon round and round. For a moment Erica regretted asking the question. Although his face was turned away from her, she sensed that tears had welled up in his eyes. Then he cleared his throat and swallowed hard.
‘Of course we did. We talked about it many times. But Maj-Britt didn’t think we were the right people to take care of her. And I let her persuade me to give Ebba up. I suppose we convinced ourselves that we didn’t have much to offer her.’
‘Did you have any contact with her after she moved to Göteborg?’
Gösta hesitated. Then he shook his head. ‘No, we decided it would be best to make a clean break. The day that she left…’ His voice broke, and he couldn’t finish the sentence, but it wasn’t necessary. Erica understood.
‘How does it feel to see her again?’
‘It’s a bit strange. She’s a grown woman now, a stranger. At the same time, I can still see the little lass in her, the girl who stood here picking raspberries and laughing at us.’
‘She’s not doing much laughing these days.’
‘No, she’s not.’ He frowned. ‘Do you know what happened to their son?’
‘I haven’t wanted to ask. But Patrik and Paula are on their way to Göteborg to talk to Ebba’s adoptive parents. I’m sure they’ll find out.’
‘I don’t like her husband,’ said Gösta, reaching for a bun.
‘Tobias? I don’t think there’s anything wrong with him. They just seem to be having some problems in their marriage. They have to work through the loss of their child, and I know from my sister’s experience how that can take its toll on a relationship. A shared sorrow doesn’t always bring people closer together.’
‘You’re right about that.’ Gösta nodded, and Erica realized that he knew all too well. He and Maj-Britt had lost their first and only child days after he was born. And then they lost Ebba too.
‘Look, Uncle Gösta! There’s tons of raspberries!’ shouted Maja from the bushes.
‘Eat as many as you want,’ he told her, his eyes sparkling again.
‘Maybe you’d like to babysit sometime,’ said Erica, only half joking.
‘I’m not sure I could handle three of them, but I’d be happy to look after the little girl if you ever need help.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ Erica decided to see to it that Gösta had a chance to babysit for her daughter someday soon. Maja was never shy with strangers, but she seemed to have taken a special liking to Patrik’s morose colleague. And it was obvious that Gösta had an empty space in his heart that Maja might help fill.
‘So what do you think about the shooting yesterday?’
Gösta shook his head. ‘I can’t make head or tail of it. The family disappeared in 1974, most likely murdered. Since then, nothing’s happened. Not until Ebba returned to Valö. Then all hell breaks loose. But why?’
‘It can’t be because she witnessed anything. Ebba was so young that she can’t possibly remember.’
‘I know. I’m more inclined to think that someone wanted to prevent Ebba and Tobias from finding the blood. But the shots fired yesterday don’t fit with that theory. By that time, the damage had already been done.’
‘The card Tobias brought in is proof that somebody means to harm her. And since the cards began arriving in 1974, we can conclude that everything that has happened to Ebba during the past week is somehow connected to her family’s disappearance. On the other hand, this is the first time the message on the card has seemed threatening.’
‘Well, I…’
‘Maja! Don’t push Noel!’ Erica jumped up and ran over to the children, who were in the midst of a loud quarrel next to the raspberry bush.
‘But Noel took the raspberry. It was mine. And he ate it!’ cried Maja, trying to give Noel a kick.
Erica took her daughter by the arm and warned her, ‘Stop it! You’re not allowed to kick your little brother. And there are still plenty of raspberries left.’ She pointed at the bush, which was loaded with ripe red berries.
‘But I wanted that one!’ Maja’s face made it clear that she felt herself unfairly treated, and when Erica let go of her arm to pick up Noel and comfort him, she rushed off.
‘Uncle Gösta! Noel took my raspberry,’ she sniffled.
He looked down at the little girl, covered in raspberry juice. With a smile he picked her up and set her on his lap. She promptly curled herself in a pitiful little ball.
‘It’s okay, sweetie,’ said Gösta, stroking her hair as if he had long experience soothing unhappy three-year-olds. ‘You know what? That raspberry wasn’t the best one.’
‘It wasn’t?’ Maja abruptly stopped crying and gazed up at Gösta.
‘No. I happen to know where the very best berries are. But it’s a secret. You can’t tell your brothers or even your mother.’
‘I promise.’
‘All right then. I trust you,’ said Gösta. And he bent down and whispered something in her ear.
Maja listened carefully, then slid off his lap and headed back to the bush. By now Noel had calmed down, and Erica returned to the table and sat down.
‘What did you say to her? Where are the best raspberries?’
‘I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,’ said Gösta with a smile.
Erica turned to see Maja, standing on tiptoe, reaching for the raspberries that were too high up for the twins to pick.
‘That was clever of you,’ she said, laughing. ‘So where were we? Oh, yes, the attempt on Ebba’s life yesterday. We need to work out how to proceed. Have you found out what happened to the family’s belongings? It could be so helpful to have a chance to go through them. Was everything thrown away? Did someone come in afterwards to clean up the house? Did they employ a cleaner and gardener, or did the family do it all themselves?’
Gösta suddenly sat up straight. ‘Good Lord, how could I be so stupid? Sometimes I think I must be going senile.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I should have thought of this before… He was like part of the scenery out there, but that’s all the more reason why it should have occurred to me.’
Erica glared at him. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Junk-Olle.’
‘Junk-Olle? You mean the old guy who has a junkyard out in Bräcke? What does he have to do with Valö?’
‘He came and went as he pleased, doing odd jobs whenever he was needed.’
‘And you think that Junk-Olle might have taken possession of the family’s belongings?’
Gösta threw out his hands. ‘That might be one explanation. The old guy collects stuff, and if no one claimed the belongings, I wouldn’t be surprised if he carted it all away.’
‘The question is whether he still has it.’
‘You mean Junk-Olle might have done a bit of spring-cleaning and actually got rid of something?’
Erica laughed. ‘No, if he took the family’s things, we can be pretty sure that he still has them. Maybe we should go out there now and have a chat with him.’ She was already halfway out of her chair, but Gösta motioned for her to sit down.