Pale and shaken.
She said the words no one wanted to hear:
‘They’ve just called from the grave site. They’ve found another body.’
41
If the sun hadn’t been shining during the day, Håkan Nilsson wasn’t sure if he could have coped with staying on the boat. The night had been chilly, and the dampness on board had made his skin feel clammy. He hadn’t bothered to repair the cockpit in the past, and the cool night air soon found its way inside.
He had never thought about living on the boat. Not even as a joke. He had bought it a few summers ago with a friend. The plan had been to impress Rebecca; he knew that she loved the lake and the sea. But she hadn’t been all that interested, and after only one season his friend had changed his mind. Håkan bought him out and kept the boat. He chugged slowly through the Karlberg canal, seeing Stockholm from a completely fresh perspective. He enjoyed the fresh air, loved the sense of freedom.
He felt safe on the boat, and the club members valued him for his commitment. Håkan was always ready to volunteer; he painted the jetties and varnished the floor of the clubhouse veranda.
He had hoped that Rebecca would want to share the experience with him, but she stayed away, didn’t want to know when he was making his plans for a summer on the boat.
‘We don’t have that kind of relationship, Håkan,’ she had said.
That was the summer before everything happened, the summer before she went missing. Autumn came, then winter. And suddenly she was pregnant.
With his child.
He had found the ultrasound scan by accident when he was visiting her in the student hostel. He had wondered what it was, asked where it had come from. She had snatched the picture from him, said it was nothing to do with him.
It hurt to remember his fury. How he had completely lost it, yelling over and over again:
‘Is it mine? Is it? Answer me, for fuck’s sake!’
And she had replied that she didn’t know.
Håkan covered his ears with his hands, trying to shut out the sound of her voice which seemed to echo out across the lake.
I don’t know who the father is.
He sat down, resting one foot on the reserve tank of petrol in the stern. How long would he have to stay away? How long would it be before they realised he had a boat? If the police found out what he had said to Rebecca that night when he found the ultrasound image of the child, they would lock him up and throw away the key. He would never be able to convince them of his innocence.
But it wasn’t my fault.
Lake Mälaren was vast, with plenty of places to hide. At the same time he didn’t want to go too far away, to become so isolated that he might start to feel forgotten. He had anchored up in Alviken. At first he had thought of mooring off the island of Ekerö, but then he carried on past both Ekerö and Stenhamra. He wanted to put a reassuring distance between himself and all the terrible things that were going on.
Håkan heaved himself up from the floor and lay down on the short, cushioned seat. The boat was quite a good place to sleep, even if it wasn’t nearly as comfortable as home. He had brought plenty of food and drink; he should be able to stay away for a week at any rate.
A week.
That was quite a short amount of time, really. He had no idea what he would do after that.
A fresh wave of despair washed over him. Everything was irretrievably ruined. His father would never come back, and neither would Rebecca. The child she had been expecting was gone too.
Håkan curled up on his cushion. He had to make a decision. Because at the end of the day, did it really matter if he disappeared as well?
42
For the third time in a week, Alex Recht was driving from police HQ in Kungsholmen to the grave site in Midsommarkransen. It was warm and sunny to a degree that seemed incomprehensible for the time of year.
The news that yet another body had been found in the grave had upended all their plans. Fredrika was told to carry on looking for the woman who had bought the gold watch, while Peder accompanied Alex to Midsommarkransen.
‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this,’ Peder said in the car.
‘Me too, but I don’t see how I could have prioritised things any other way,’ Alex said.
Peder glanced at him.
‘It’s not about prioritising, it’s about this whole bloody case. For example, what do we do with Lagergren now?’
‘He can wait,’ Alex replied.
It was a real effort not to add: We’ve got all the time in the world.
Because that was how it felt. As if the new horrors that had been unearthed altered the landscape, creating a sense that everything had changed. Even though they didn’t understand how or why.
Eventually, Peder commented: ‘You seem to be taking this very calmly.’
Alex wasn’t sure whether he could find the words to describe his intuitive thoughts properly, but he made an attempt.
‘I’ve got a feeling that we shouldn’t regard this new victim as a setback. I think it might explain a great deal, fill in the gaps in the story.’
Peder’s expression was sceptical as his boss parked the car.
‘Fill in the gaps?’
‘Come on,’ Alex said, opening the door.
The ground was silent beneath their feet, while the trees towered above them as magnificently as before. They walked the four hundred metres from the car to the site. The same route the perpetrator must have taken. Not once, not twice, but three times. With a dead body in his arms. Or on his back. Or in two black bin bags.
They stopped at the edge of the crater, amazed at the extent of the area that had been excavated.
‘This is the end of the road,’ said the DI who was in charge of the dig. ‘We’d already made the decision before we found the body; we’re not going any further than the police tape over there.’ He pointed. ‘Beyond that, the ground is full of stones and roots; there’s no chance that anyone has been digging there.’
‘How are you coping with the press?’ Alex asked.
‘Not too well. The reporters are starting to lose both patience and respect; they’re pushing and pushing to find out what we’re doing. I’ve had to use several officers to guard the area, which is why the digging process has been so slow.’
Alex gazed out across the crater. Earth had been dug out, sifted through and piled up around the edge, creating high ramparts that provided a natural defence against curious onlookers.
‘We meet again.’
The voice of the forensic pathologist came from down in the crater. He nodded to Alex, then clambered up the ladder, brushing the dirt from his knees.
‘What can you tell us?’ Alex asked.
The pathologist squinted at Alex, then moved so that the sun wasn’t in his eyes.
‘Next to nothing. I’ll have to get back to you when I’ve had the chance to take a closer look at the body in the lab.’
The air that found its way into Alex’s lungs as he breathed in was almost warm enough for summer. Birds flitted playfully among the trees.
‘Is it a man or a woman?’
‘I don’t think you understood what I said, Alex. Go down and have a look at the body for yourself before we take it away.’
Alex’s legs refused to move; he didn’t know if he wanted to see what had been revealed down in that hell hole.
‘I can have a look,’ Peder offered.
‘I’ll go first,’ Alex said.
He grabbed hold of the ladder and began to make his way down. He felt it sink slightly into the ground and wondered if it might tip over and dump him on top of the corpse.
‘The body is a few metres behind you,’ the pathologist said.
Alex reached the bottom and turned around. He saw a tarpaulin that was being used as a temporary cover for the body. He went over and crouched down. He could feel the eyes of his colleagues on his back as he lifted the plastic to see what it was hiding.