‘There were so many strange rumours about your mother,’ Fredrika said. ‘About the books, about your disappearance, about the fact that she wasn’t married. Where did they come from?’
‘We never knew,’ Johan replied. ‘But I know she gave it a lot of thought. I suppose in those days it wasn’t all that strange that people reacted to the fact that she lived alone, but all the rest… it didn’t make any sense.’
The sound of a mobile phone sliced through the silence after Johan had finished speaking. Alex excused himself and went out to take the call.
It was the officer in charge of the fresh excavations at the grave site. The dogs had already indicated that there was something there. Taking a chance had produced results.
‘We’ll know within half an hour whether it’s Peder’s brother,’ the officer said.
Alex sent up a silent prayer, hoping that wouldn’t be the case.
‘You came back. Got in touch with your mother again,’ Fredrika said.
Johan removed his jacket and hung it on the back of the chair.
‘That’s true. Actually, I didn’t just take off in the first place. When I found those terrible manuscripts in the loft, I confronted my mother. Asked her what kind of sicko she was. She defended herself to the hilt, let me tell you. Said that she had wanted to spare me all this. That it was my father who had written the books, not her. And that was why she had asked him to move out before I was born.’
‘But you didn’t believe her?’
The situation Johan described was so bizarre that Fredrika just couldn’t relate to it.
‘No, I didn’t. I mean, if it was true, then why had she kept them? Why hadn’t she told him to take them with him? I thought it was the other way round, in fact. That the manuscripts were as old as she claimed, but that she was the one who had written them, and my father had found them. Found them and left her.’
‘When did you realise she had been telling the truth?’
‘I went to see her after the trial. The case attracted an enormous amount of attention in the press. I read everything I could get my hands on, and followed the case from a distance as best I could.’
‘Were you living in Sweden at the time?’ Alex asked.
Johan hesitated.
‘On a temporary basis. My formal immigration into Sweden came later.’
A young Swede running away from his own mother; he moved to Norway, stole a colleague’s identity, then later became an immigrant in his own country.
‘She must have been so happy to see you.’
‘She was.’
Johan smiled sadly.
‘Why did you continue to live as Valter Lund?’
‘For purely practical reasons. At the time, the idea of admitting I was Thea Aldrin’s missing son who had suddenly risen from the dead seemed impossible. Because a lot of people obviously believed that she had killed her own child.’
‘Did she tell you why the books had been published?’ Fredrika asked.
‘To protect me.’
‘To protect you? From what?’
‘She’d actually forced my father to leave for a completely different reason. He and someone else had made a film in my grandparents’ old summerhouse – what we would call a snuff movie these days. My mother found it by accident, and she didn’t care whether it was genuine or not. She wanted my father out of the house, once and for all. He left and took the film with him. Later, she found the manuscripts in the loft, and realised that my father must have written them. When he suddenly turned up just after my twelfth birthday and came to see my mother in secret, she had the books published and threatened to reveal the name of the real author unless my father stayed away. It obviously worked, but one day he was back. Looking for revenge. That was when she killed him.’
Fredrika tilted her head to one side and tried to get her head around the story Johan Aldrin had told. So it was Thea’s ex who had made the film. Fredrika still had countless questions, but she couldn’t ask them all. They were in a hurry, and they needed answers to the key points.
‘Have you seen the film your mother found?’ Alex asked.
‘No.’
‘And you don’t know who else was involved, apart from your father?’
‘No.’
Alex leaned back.
‘If I said it was Morgan Axberger, would that surprise you?’
Alex had been shocked when Fredrika told him what she had learned from Malena Bremberg.
‘I would be extremely surprised.’
Johan raised his eyebrows.
‘Let me tell you something,’ Alex said slowly. ‘If there’s one thing I find difficult to accept, it’s coincidences. How come you ended up working for Axberger’s company?’
‘Morgan knows who I am. According to my mother, he was very keen to help me when I came back to Sweden. Apparently, he owed her a favour.’
‘Do you think she knew he was involved in the film?’ Fredrika asked.
‘It’s possible. I never saw it. She might have known he was mixed up in it, and decided to keep quiet so that she could use the knowledge to her advantage later. I really don’t know.’
Nor did Fredrika. But she knew that although there were at least two versions of the film, it was impossible to see who was behind the camera in either of them. If Thea had known it was Axberger, someone must have told her. She wondered which version Thea had seen. Had she even known it was genuine?
‘Where can we find Morgan Axberger?’ Alex said.
‘I have no idea.’
‘Think. Is there a particular place he might go under these circumstances?’
Johan pondered for a moment.
‘He might go to the company’s place in the country. It’s on the island of Storholmen. He bought my grandparents’ old house out there.’
‘Why that particular house?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m wondering.’
Alex ran a hand through his hair. Johan had more explaining to do. A lot more.
‘Rebecca Trolle,’ he said.
Johan nodded.
‘Did she ever find out that you were Thea’s son?’
‘Not as far as I know; she never mentioned it. And I didn’t tell her.’
‘Isn’t it a bit of a coincidence that you became her mentor?’ Fredrika said.
‘Of course it is. I know it sounds unlikely, but when I became Rebecca’s mentor, I had no idea what she’d chosen as the topic for her dissertation. And if I had known, you can rest assured that I wouldn’t have taken her on.’
Or would he? The only coincidence Alex was prepared to accept was that Valter Lund had joined the mentoring programme because he was genuinely interested in young people and their ambitions, and that he had happened to be paired up with a girl who was writing her dissertation about his own mother. However, Alex didn’t believe for a second that Johan would have refused to mentor Rebecca if he had known about her topic in advance. He was too much of a control freak.
‘Taken her on,’ Alex repeated. ‘You actually had a relationship with her. By that stage you must have known what her dissertation was about.’
‘I made a mistake, I admit that. Her dissertation was taking so long, and I wanted to know how far she had got.’
Of course.
‘And how far had she got?’
Johan was becoming impatient.
‘Don’t you think I have questions of my own about my mother? Naturally, I was curious.’
‘So you seduced Rebecca, let her believe you wanted a relationship with her?’
Johan’s voice was thin when he replied.
‘Yes.’
Fredrika asked the final question that only Johan could answer.
‘What are you saying thank you for on the card you send with the flowers?’
A brief hesitation. Then he answered with the same directness he had shown throughout.
‘Because she forgave me when I came back. And for her silence. Thanks to her, I am free of my past.’