Ebba had rejected him, and he couldn’t understand it. After everything that had happened, she should have allowed him to take care of her, she should have leaned on him. In the past she had been the one who made all the decisions. Where they should live, where they should go on holiday, when they should have a child. Even on that morning, she was the one who had decided what they should do. People were always fooled by Ebba’s blue eyes and slight figure. They saw her as shy and compliant, which wasn’t true. She’d been the one who made the decision on that morning. But from now on, it was his turn to decide.
He got up, tossing the angel aside. Covered with something red and sticky, it landed on the cluttered desk. Astonished, he looked down at the palm of his hand to see dozens of tiny cuts. Slowly he wiped his hand on his trousers. Ebba needed to come back home. There were things he had to explain to her.
Liv was feverishly wiping off the patio furniture. It had to be done every day if she wanted to keep the chairs clean, so she kept on scrubbing until the plastic gleamed. Beads of sweat ran down her back in the strong sunlight. After all the hours they’d spent at the boathouse, her skin had turned a beautiful golden brown, but dark circles were visible under her eyes.
‘I don’t think you should go,’ she said. ‘Why do you need to meet again now? You know how fragile the situation is for the party. We need to lie low until…’ She broke off abruptly.
‘I know, but there are certain things that are beyond our control,’ said John, pushing his reading glasses up on to his forehead.
He was sitting at the table, ploughing his way through the newspapers. Every day he read the national papers as well as a few local ones. So far he’d never made it through the stack of newspapers without being repulsed by the stupidity that filled the pages. All those liberal journalists, columnists, and so-called experts who thought they understood how the world worked. Thanks to their combined efforts, the Swedish people were slowly but surely being corrupted. It was his responsibility to make them open their eyes. A high price would have to be paid, but it was impossible to wage a war without casualties. And this was war.
‘Is that Jew coming too?’ Liv started wiping off the table, having decided that the chairs were now clean enough.
John nodded. ‘I assume Josef will be there.’
‘What if somebody were to see you and take your picture with him? What do you think would happen if that got into the papers? Imagine what your supporters would say. You would be compromised – maybe even forced to resign. We can’t let that happen, not when we’re so close.’
John gazed out across the harbour, trying to avoid meeting Liv’s eye. She knew nothing. How could he tell her about the darkness, the cold fear that erased all racial boundaries? Back then, at that time and place, it had been a matter of survival. Whether he liked it or not, he and Josef were linked for all eternity. There was no way he could explain that to Liv.
‘I have to go,’ he said, using a tone of voice that made it clear the discussion was over. Liv knew better than to argue, but she kept on muttering to herself. John smiled and looked at his wife, at her lovely face and her expression, which revealed an iron will. He loved her, and they had shared so much, but the darkness was something he could share only with those who had been there too.
For the first time in all these years they would meet again. It would be the last time. The task he had before him was too important, and he would have to put a stop to the past. What happened in 1974 may have risen to the surface, but it could just as easily vanish again, if only they could all agree. It was best to keep old secrets in the darkness where they were created.
The only person he was concerned about was Sebastian. Even back then Sebastian had enjoyed his superior position, and he might present a problem. But if reasoning with him didn’t work, there were always other methods at his disposal.
Patrik took a deep breath. Annika was doing her best to make the final preparations for the press conference, which had even drawn a few journalists from Göteborg. Some of them would file reports with the national newspapers, so tomorrow the story would appear in all the major publications. Patrik knew from experience that from now on the investigation would be a circus, and in the midst of it all would be Mellberg, playing the ringmaster. That was something else Patrik had witnessed before. Mellberg hadn’t been able to hide his glee when he heard that they’d been forced to call a press conference. Right now he was probably in the bathroom, tending to his comb-over.
In addition to the usual nerves about fielding questions without giving away too much, Patrik was wondering how to limit the damage that Mellberg was likely to do. At the same time, he was grateful that this story hadn’t exploded in the media a couple of days earlier. Nothing that happened in Fjällbacka escaped the attention of the locals, so it was pure luck that no one had tipped off the media about the goings on in Valö prior to this. But their luck had now run out, and it would be impossible for the police to keep a lid on the story.
A cautious knock on the door roused him from his gloomy reveries. The door opened, and Gösta came in. Without waiting for an invitation, he sat down on the visitor’s chair in front of Patrik’s desk.
‘So, the hyenas are all here,’ said Gösta mournfully. He was staring down at his hands as he twiddled his thumbs nervously.
‘They’re only doing their job,’ said Patrik, despite the fact he’d been having similar thoughts. There was no point viewing the reporters as adversaries. Occasionally the media could even prove useful.
‘How’d it go in Göteborg?’ asked Gösta, still without meeting Patrik’s eye.
‘Okay. It turned out Ebba hadn’t told her parents about the arson or the shooting.’
Gösta looked up. ‘Why not?’
‘I think she didn’t want to worry them. I suspect that they threw themselves at the phone as soon as we left. Her mother was all for heading straight out to Valö.’
‘Maybe that’s not a bad idea. It would be better if someone could persuade Ebba and Tobias to stay away until we’ve solved the case.’
Patrik nodded. ‘I wouldn’t have hung on a minute longer than necessary if someone had tried to kill me out there – not just once but twice.’
‘People are strange.’
‘Yes. Well, at least Ebba has nice parents.’
‘So they seemed pleasant?’
‘Yes, I think she’s had a good life with them. She also seems to have an excellent relationship with her siblings. And it’s a decent neighbourhood. Older houses with lots of rose bushes.’
‘That does sound like a good place to grow up.’
‘But we didn’t come up with any sort of lead as to who might have sent those cards.’
‘So they didn’t keep any of them?’
‘No, they threw them all out. But they were only birthday greetings, nothing threatening, not like the card that just arrived. And they were clearly postmarked Göteborg.’
‘Odd.’ Gösta was again studying his thumbs.
‘What’s even more odd is that someone deposited money in a bank account for Ebba every month until she turned eighteen.’
‘What? Anonymously?’
‘Exactly. So if we can track down where the money came from, maybe we’ll get somewhere. At least, I hope so. It’s conceivable that the same person sent the cards. But I’ve got to go now.’ Patrik got up. ‘Was there anything particular you wanted?’