Then she saw that Thea had begun to cry. The tears made transparent tracks down her cheeks. Her eyes were still closed.
Peder slid off his chair and crouched down in front of her.
‘You have to talk to us,’ he said.
His voice was filled with such pleading that Fredrika didn’t know what to do with herself.
‘If you saw something, anything at all, you have to tell us. Or if someone is threatening you – you can talk to us about that too.’
Thea wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. Fredrika didn’t know what to think. The old woman was straight-backed and indomitable, yet clearly marked by the life she had led. Once upon a time, she had had everything anyone could wish for; now she sat alone in a care home, stripped of all that had been written in the stars for her.
Thea got up and lay down on the bed with her back to her visitors. Fredrika and Peder stood up.
‘We’ll be back,’ he said. ‘Do you hear me? We’re not letting this go just because you refuse to co-operate.’
As they left the room a few minutes later, Thea was still lying in exactly the same position.
‘Old bitch,’ Peder said when they were out in the corridor.
Fredrika ignored him and went in search of a member of staff. She spotted a young woman who was reading what appeared to be a patient’s file.
‘Excuse me.’
The woman looked up with the most hunted expression Fredrika had ever seen; her face was pale and weary. Fredrika hesitated.
‘Excuse me,’ she said again. ‘Could I possibly ask you one or two questions about Thea Aldrin?’
The young woman swallowed and attempted a smile.
‘Of course. But I don’t think I can be of much help; I’ve only just come on duty. They usually call me in at short notice.’
‘Were you working yesterday?’
Relief spread across the woman’s face.
‘No.’
As if she really didn’t want to help.
Fredrika read her name badge: Malena Bremberg. There was such a depth of anxiety in her eyes that it made Fredrika’s skin crawl, and she could see that Peder had noticed it as well.
‘We need to know whether Thea had any visitors yesterday,’ Fredrika said.
‘In that case you’ll have to ask someone else,’ Malena replied. ‘As I said, I wasn’t working yesterday.’
A colleague appeared in the corridor; she must have overheard the conversation, and took it upon herself to answer the question.
‘Thea hardly ever has visitors. Yesterday was no exception.’
‘Were you on duty?’
‘All day. The only person who visits Thea on a regular basis is that detective. Ross, I think his name is.’
Fredrika made no comment on Torbjörn Ross and his activities. She felt embarrassed for him, and wished he would put a stop to his visits.
‘He’s been here so often we were almost starting to wonder whether he’s the one who sends Thea flowers every Saturday.’
There. A fresh scrap of information.
‘She gets flowers every Saturday?’
‘She does.’
‘And how long has this been going on?’
‘Ever since she came here.’
Instinctively, Fredrika knew that this was important. Peder must have felt the same, because he suddenly decided to join in the conversation.
‘You don’t know who they’re from?’
The second care assistant smiled, clearly enjoying the attention more than Malena Bremberg, who excused herself and slipped into one of the anonymous rooms further down the corridor.
‘We haven’t a clue. They’re delivered at eleven o’clock in the morning. Always the same kind of flowers, always the same message on the card: “Thank you”, that’s all it says.’
So someone had a reason to be grateful to Thea Aldrin, who might have written violent pornographic novels under a pseudonym, and who had stabbed her ex-boyfriend to death.
‘We’d like the name of the florist,’ Peder said.
Fredrika was holding her breath. So far every road they had followed had led them back to Thea. Now at last they had found a road that led away from her. The question was – who was hiding at the other end?
While he was waiting to hear more about Håkan’s disappearance and Fredrika and Peder’s visit to Thea Aldrin, Alex decided to confront Torbjörn Ross.
‘You’ve been withholding information, Torbjörn.’
A direct statement, leaving no room for denial.
Ross gazed at the papers on his desk as Alex sat down opposite him.
‘You met up with her, didn’t you? You helped Rebecca Trolle with the research for her dissertation.’
When Ross didn’t reply, Alex went on:
‘Memory sometimes lets us down, doesn’t it? It only struck me today that you were involved in the investigation when Rebecca disappeared. But only during the first week, when we were questioning everyone and going through her things. Then you requested a transfer to another case, didn’t you?’
Alex felt the disappointment forming a lump in his throat.
‘You took material that could have been useful to us from among Rebecca’s belongings. You withheld important clues from me and the others.’
At last, Ross reacted.
‘Like hell, I did! You all ignored Thea Aldrin completely. You were too busy searching for the mysterious secret boyfriend. Nobody had even seen him, but you were all convinced he existed. I was the one who looked into the link with Thea Aldrin, and when it led nowhere I didn’t see the point in passing on information about an irrelevant minor line of enquiry.’
‘You don’t believe that for one minute. You kept quiet in order to save yourself, so that you could continue your bizarre, endless investigation into the disappearance of Thea’s son.’
Torbjörn Ross flushed deep red.
‘She murdered her son, Alex. Surely she shouldn’t be allowed to get away with that?’
Alex shook his head.
‘You’re the only person in the entire world who thinks that. It’s unhealthy. You need help.’
Ross got up from his chair, clearly agitated.
‘Thea Aldrin was right there in front of you, and you all ignored her completely.’
‘At the time, yes, but not now. And you knew that.’
Last weekend. Their conversation on the boat. It was Torbjörn Ross who had first brought up Thea’s name, who had pretended to be surprised that Rebecca Trolle was writing a dissertation about her. In fact, the opposite was true. Ross had merely wanted to ensure that Alex wasn’t going to drop Thea Aldrin this time.
‘What did you take during the original investigation?’
‘A few notes, that’s all.’
Ross’s voice was quiet. He sat down again.
‘Notes which included your own name, I presume?’
Ross said nothing.
‘What else?’
Silently, Ross reached for a thin folder on the top shelf of his safe. He handed it to Alex.
A page torn from Rebecca’s file block, containing notes about the investigation into the murder of Thea’s ex. Dates, names. Including that of Torbjörn Ross.
‘Who are the other people mentioned here?’
‘Officers involved in the case. Most of them have retired by now. She contacted the police and asked to see the records from the preliminary inquiry; that was how she found me and the others.’
‘So she called you?’
Ross nodded.
‘We met only once, at Café Ugo on Scheelegatan. We went through the case together, and she asked some pretty banal questions. Then it was over.’
‘Hang on a minute. It must have been more than some banal questions. It was you who led her to the snuff movie, wasn’t it?’
Ross looked surprised.
‘She’d saved some of her notes on a floppy disk, and you missed it,’ Alex said, trying not to sound triumphant. ‘We couldn’t understand why the word “snuff” appeared, but now we think we know where she got it from.’
Ross’s eyes were darting all over the room.
‘I might have given her a helping hand; she was already heading in that direction.’