“Of course. Tights and a black wool sweater. Though it was cold in the attic, I got pretty sweaty when I was … busy with Linda.”
A short moment of silence.
“So did you park the car behind the grove of spruce trees?” Irene asked.
“Yes. It was just a few meters from the grove to the bridge. No one saw me.”
“You could have frozen to death. It was fifteen below.”
“I had my coat in the trunk.”
Irene realized that that was the moment Carina had made her mistake. She must have thrown Marianne’s flashlight into the trunk without thinking. She was under a lot of stress, after all. Irene decided not to bring up the flashlight. Carina probably didn’t want to hear about any mistakes.
“You were unbelievably thorough at getting rid of all the evidence. I can understand how you saw Siv Persson as a threat. She could have recognized you, of course. But why Anna-Karin Andersson?”
Carina appeared reluctant to answer. Irene realized why. The arson attempt had gone wrong—Anna-Karin hadn’t died. And plans gone wrong were the last thing Carina would want to discuss. Nevertheless, to Irene’s surprise, Carina suddenly started to talk.
“I knew that Anna-Karin and Linda were best friends. Linda said to Sverker that she didn’t even tell her best friend about their relationship, and Sverker had asked who that was. Linda said, ‘Anna-Karin.’ ”
“So you heard all that by listening outside the door?”
“I couldn’t take it for granted that Linda told the truth. She still could have said something to Anna-Karin.”
It was uncanny how intuitive Carina was. Linda actually had told her best friend everything, just a week after that conversation.
“I don’t know how you found your way after you’d sabotaged the electricity,” Irene said.
Carina appeared surprised as she answered. “You got that, didn’t you? You found the flashlight. I’d only remembered it … when you went to our garage.”
“So that was Marianne’s?”
“Yes, indeed.”
“And we found a day planner in her pocket. Did you see it?”
“No, but I don’t care about that.”
Marianne had Linda’s day planner in her pocket when she was murdered. Only one thing could have happened—it had fallen from her backpack on its tumble down the stairs, and Carina hadn’t found it when she ran to grab the backpack. But Marianne had found it, opened it, seen that it was Linda’s, and therefore was calling Linda’s name when she walked up the stairs into the hands of her killer.
“You set fire to the garden shed to get rid of the uniform, but also to send us chasing after red herrings. And you wanted to eliminate all traces of Gunnela Hägg.”
Carina looked at Irene with empty eyes. “Her name was Gunnela Hägg?”
“That’s right.”
Carina didn’t answer. She stared at the wall with that cold, scornful smile on her lips. She had sunk back into her own thoughts and didn’t pay any more attention to Irene.
Irene nodded at Fredrik. He stood up from his place by the door and pushed the wheelchair out of the cell.
Once they’d reached the hallway, Fredrik snapped off the tape recorder hidden behind Irene’s back. They wouldn’t be able to use the tape in the courtroom, but it would certainly help the prosecutor prepare her case.
• • •
“ANYBODY WANT TO go to the pub and have a beer with me?”
Kurt Höök stuck his red-haired head through the doorway to Irene and Tommy’s office.
“How about an hour from now? We’re just about through wrapping up our reports on the Löwander Hospital murders,” Tommy said.
Kurt nodded and looked at Irene. “You know where you’ll find me.”
He disappeared down the hallway. Tommy grinned at Irene. “That Höök guy—what a charmer!”
“You got that right!”
Tommy became serious and regarded Irene thoughtfully. “Talking about charmers, have you told Sverker Löwander the truth about his background?”
“No. Have you?”
“No.”
Irene reached for her crutches and stood up. “Well, now I believe it’s time for us to go have that beer.”
“Yep.”
Epilogue
IT WAS A starry night. The party at Tommy and Agneta’s place had been pleasant, but Irene had had a bit too much wine. Luckily, Krister was the chauffeur for the evening. He had to work on Sunday, another reason they were on their way home already, just past the stroke of midnight.
They were practically the only ones on Delsjövägen. Suddenly Sammie began to whine in the backseat. They’d had to bring him because neither of the twins was at home that evening.
“Darn it all, we forgot to let the dog out before we started home,” Krister said.
Irene awoke from her wine-induced slumber and looked around. When she realized where they were, she said, “Pull over there. You can park just past the bridge. Lots of people take their dogs for walks there. I know that for sure. It’s been just four weeks since I was tramping through the poo.”
Krister turned, drove over the bridge, and parked the car. Irene got out and stood on her somewhat unsteady legs. “You stay in the car,” she said. “I’ll take Sammie.”
She drew the chilly night air deep into her lungs. In spite of the wine, she felt energized; after walking the dog, she’d be almost sober.
Sammie was eager and excited as he started sniffing around the spruce grove. Lots of new contacts! A veritable People magazine for dogs. I’m a tiny dachshund who’ll have puppies in a week! German shepherd warns once and for all—this is my spot! No one knows now, but a female poodle and a male Doberman had a tryst here! Sammie sniffed to his heart’s content with his nose to the ground.
Irene hung on to the leash.
It took her a while to realize that they were heading to the hospital park. Sammie wandered toward the lilac arbor. It was dark, and Irene stumbled a few times. Sammie made his mark and pulled at the leash. There was something interesting in the bushes.
Irene held tightly to Sammie, but both dog and mistress jumped high into the air when a deer leaped out.
Irene looked up at the quiet, dark building. The black windows seemed to glare back at her. Involuntarily, her gaze wandered to the tiny attic window. Beyond that glass two nurses had been found dead, fifty years apart. Irene shivered at the thought. A moment later she froze in terror.
Behind the windowpane, Irene believed she saw the outline of a person standing close to the glass. A slightly silver-glowing palm pressed against the pane. It did not disappear until the rest of the figure began to dissolve into the darkness.
