The police had already left when Peder got back to the complex; there was no reason for them to stay. He went to see the manageress and asked to her to let him into Jimmy’s room. She couldn’t stop apologising.
‘I don’t understand how this could have happened,’ she said as she led the way down the corridor.
She looked and sounded as if she had been crying. Peder didn’t care. He didn’t understand why she was apologising; she hadn’t been on duty when Jimmy disappeared.
‘One minute he was here, the next he was gone.’
Peder didn’t answer; he just walked past her into Jimmy’s room. Everything was as it should be, just as it had been when Peder was there in the morning. The bed with the quilt their grandmother had made, the bookshelves full of cars, pictures and books.
The staff had called Peder and his parents as soon as they realised Jimmy was missing. It was hard to know how long he had been gone; no one had seen him since the afternoon. There was nothing particularly unusual about that; Jimmy liked spending time on his own. Sometimes he didn’t bother coming to supper, but stayed in his room instead.
‘We found out he wasn’t there when we knocked to see if he’d started getting ready for bed. Otherwise, he stays up till all hours, as you know.’
Peder knew. It had been impossible to get Jimmy to bed even when he was a little boy. He wanted to be awake all the time; he was afraid he might miss some fun if he went to bed before everybody else.
The manageress carried on talking, telling Peder things he had already heard the previous evening.
‘The only thing missing was his jacket. And the patio door was open when we came in, so we think he must have gone out that way.’
Peder could understand that, but he just couldn’t work out where his brother had gone. He could count on the fingers of one hand the times when Jimmy had gone off on his own.
A missing jacket, an open door.
Where did you go, Jimmy?
Peder looked out of the window.
‘Who lives in the building opposite?’ he asked.
He thought back once again to what Jimmy had said; he had seen a man looking in through someone’s window.
‘That’s part of the care home,’ the manageress said.
‘Is it private?’
‘Yes, they just take a few elderly residents each year. I’ve heard there’s a long waiting list to get in.’
Peder looked at the row of small patios on the other side of the lawn. Where could the man Jimmy had seen have been standing? An elderly woman caught Peder’s eye. She was so pale and unremarkable that he almost didn’t notice her. It looked as if she was gazing straight into Jimmy’s room, straight at Peder.
There was something familiar about her.
‘Who’s she?’ Peder asked, pointing at the woman.
‘She’s one of the more eccentric residents,’ said the manageress. ‘She used to write children’s books. Her name is Thea Aldrin. Have you heard of her?’
Valter Lund was waiting in reception at the appointed time. In his dark suit and white shirt he looked just like any other businessman. Fredrika observed him through the glass door before she went out to collect him. She looked at his open, confident expression, his friendly smile. Shoulders relaxed, legs crossed, hands resting in his lap.
Was it you who murdered Rebecca, dismembered her body and put it in bags, then carried her through the forest?
He had no legal representative with him, which surprised Fredrika. His handshake was warm, his voice deep as he said hello. In another time, another life, Fredrika would have found him attractive.
Alex joined her for the interview; he and Fredrika sat down opposite Valter Lund. The time was approximately half-past nine.
‘Thank you for taking the time to come in,’ Alex began.
Almost suggesting that attendance at a police interview was voluntary.
‘Naturally, I want to help in any way I can.’
‘Rebecca Trolle,’ Alex said.
‘Yes?’
‘You knew her.’
‘I was her mentor.’
‘Was that your only connection or relationship with her?’
Fredrika hoped her surprise at Alex’s direct approach so early in the proceedings didn’t show in her face.
‘I don’t think I understand the question.’
‘We’re wondering whether you spent time together for any other reason, apart from the fact that you were her mentor.’
‘We did, yes.’
The interview was stopped in its tracks before it had even got going. Fredrika knew she wasn’t the only one who was stunned by Valter Lund’s honesty; Alex was also surprised. He couldn’t hold back a wry smile.
‘Could you tell us more?’
Valter Lund ran his hand over the surface of the desk.
‘Absolutely. But I would like an assurance that any information I give you will be dealt with discreetly.’
‘It’s very difficult to give such an assurance when I don’t know what you’re going to say.’
‘I understand.’
Fredrika cleared her throat.
‘As long as what you tell us has no relevance as far as our inquiry is concerned, then of course we can ensure that it is not made public along with the documentation relating to the preliminary investigation.’
That seemed to satisfy Valter Lund.
‘We had a brief relationship,’ he said.
‘You and Rebecca?’ Fredrika asked.
‘We realised almost immediately that there was a mutual attraction. One thing led to another, and in December 2006, I asked her out. We carried on meeting discreetly until the beginning of January, when I decided that we couldn’t carry on.’
‘So it really was a brief relationship.’
‘Indeed.’
‘You took her to Copenhagen,’ Alex said.
‘That’s true. That was after we’d broken up. We slept in separate rooms at the hotel, and took different flights to Kastrup. Unfortunately, I realised that Rebecca thought the trip was an attempt to rekindle the relationship on my part. She was terribly disappointed when I explained that wasn’t the case.’
Valter Lund’s voice filled the room, and his entire being radiated calm stability. He owned the interview in a way Fredrika found fascinating.
‘It’s hardly surprising that she misunderstood an invitation of that kind,’ Alex said. ‘My God, a romantic weekend in Copenhagen could make anyone go weak at the knees.’
Lund had to smile.
‘Naturally, I realised I had made a mistake. I knew she was upset because I’d finished with her, and I wanted to prove that I still took my role as mentor very seriously. It was stupid of me to think she would understand the difference from the way I behaved.’
‘What happened after Copenhagen?’
‘Not much. She called me a few times and we decided we would meet up one evening, but it never happened.’
‘Because she went missing?’
‘Yes.’
Alex looked down at his scarred hands, then glanced over at Fredrika.
‘You were considerably older than Rebecca,’ he said.
Over twenty years, Fredrika worked out. The same as the age difference between her and Spencer.
‘And that was definitely a contributory factor in my decision to stop seeing her. We had nothing in common.’
He spoke as if this was something simple and self-evident, but Fredrika knew that Rebecca must have seen things very differently, and fallen apart.
That’s what I would have done.
‘Did you tell anyone about your affair?’ Alex said.
‘No.’
‘Did she?’ Fredrika asked.
‘Not as far as I know.’
‘Did you know she was pregnant?’
Alex’s question remained hanging in the air. For the first time Fredrika could see that they had said something that had not been part of Valter Lund’s calculations from the start.
‘Pregnant?’
He whispered the word. He quickly passed a hand over his forehead, then lowered it again.