Bloody hell, I can’t think about that right now.
Fredrika felt a lump in her throat. Why were there so few stories with a happy ending in this world?
Thea was sitting in her chair, gazing out of the window. Just like the last time, but with a slight variation; today it was possible to detect a hint of relief on her face
Of course. Now that Morgan Axberger was dead, she no doubt assumed that her problems were over.
Fredrika pulled up a chair and sat down in front of her.
‘I read your stories about angels when I was a little girl,’ she said after a moment’s thought. ‘So did everybody else.’ She smiled. ‘It must be fantastic to know that you were one of the greatest writers back then.’
Thea didn’t move a muscle, but Fredrika saw her eyes change. The light was tempered with darkness. Once upon a time, Thea had had it all; now she had nothing left. Apart from her son. And he was a man who shunned the daylight at the moment.
‘I know you can talk,’ Fredrika said. ‘You spoke to my colleague Peder a little while ago. I’m sure you remember that?’
When Thea didn’t reply, Fredrika went on:
‘Anyway, I have a few more questions. It seems there are one or two gaps in our investigation.’
Good – that obviously worried Thea.
‘We believe that Morgan Axberger had some help when he murdered Rebecca Trolle. From Valter Lund. Your son, Johan Aldrin.’
The air was knocked out of Thea, who immediately opened her mouth. She sounded as if she was suffocating; the words stuck in her throat.
‘We’ve just brought him in. He’ll go down for a long time for this. I thought you’d want to know.’
It was all lies. Alex refused to pick up Johan Aldrin unless Fredrika presented him with solid evidence to prove that he was involved. He couldn’t be tried for the murder of his father even if Thea was acquitted at a later date. The crime was already beyond the statute of limitations.
Fredrika stood up. Astonishingly, Thea was on her feet in no time.
‘Please, it isn’t what you think.’
The sound of Thea’s voice made Fredrika freeze in mid-movement. Peder had been telling the truth when he said that Thea could speak.
‘Isn’t it?’
‘No, no. He would never do such a thing.’
Thea was desperate; she grabbed hold of Fredrika’s arm.
‘You can’t do this.’
‘We can and we must,’ Fredrika replied. ‘Think about Rebecca Trolle’s mother. She has a right to know what happened to her daughter.’
Thea sank back into her chair, mumbling something that Fredrika couldn’t hear.
‘Manfred,’ Thea said. ‘It’s all his fault. If it hadn’t been for him…’
‘… you would never have had Johan. That’s true, isn’t it?’
All at once, Fredrika felt like bursting into tears. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand Thea, because she did. Was there anything she wouldn’t do for Saga? No. Nothing was more important than the wellbeing of her child.
Fredrika tensed, preparing to fire the final salvo.
‘We know that Johan was there the night Manfred died,’ she said. ‘Technology has moved on since then. We have evidence of both his fingerprints and his DNA at the scene of the crime.’
Another lie. They hadn’t yet managed to match either prints or DNA, but Fredrika knew what they would show when the tests were done.
So did Thea.
‘I was the one who murdered him.’
‘No, Thea,’ Fredrika said. ‘It wasn’t you. You took the knife from Johan, wiped off your son’s fingerprints, then grasped it yourself. So that we would think it was you and not Johan.’
‘You can’t prove that.’
‘Believe me, we can. We already have sufficient evidence.’
More lies.
‘You weren’t there,’ Thea whispered. ‘If he’d been your father… you would have done the same thing.’
Would she? Fredrika thought about a case the team had handled the previous year. Children did murder their parents, but it was rare.
‘What happened?’
Thea slumped in her chair.
‘He came back. My lovely Johan. I had known all along that he was alive, but I thought I would never see him again. Manfred turned up that same evening. He had no intention of staying away, even though I had had those disgusting books published and threatened to reveal the fact that he was the author. He swore he would say the opposite – that I had written the books. And that I had been involved in the making of the film, since it was shot in my parents’ summerhouse. The situation got out of control. Johan and I ran to the garage, intending to get in the car and drive away. But Manfred followed us. He was armed with a knife. Before I knew what had happened, he was lying on the floor. And Johan… Johan was just sitting there, staring into space. So I did what had to be done.’
‘And confessed to a crime you hadn’t committed?’
Thea nodded.
A clock on the wall struck four, and Fredrika Bergman felt a bitter satisfaction. Johan Aldrin had murdered his father. The situation had changed, this time to Fredrika’s advantage.
‘Rebecca Trolle,’ she said. ‘She was here just before she died.’
Thea nodded again.
‘How much did she know?’
Thea sighed deeply. ‘She had seen some of the old case notes, and was chattering on about the fact that the police seemed to have ignored evidence that might lead to a different perpetrator. She knew about the film too.’
Fredrika was lost for words as Thea went on:
‘If only she’d left it there, then perhaps everything might have ended differently. But then she spotted the flowers.’
She fell silent.
‘And the flowers led to an even more important secret, didn’t they?’ Fredrika said.
‘I saw her expression change when she read the card,’ Thea said. ‘She asked me straight out, wanted to know who was thanking me and for what. I didn’t reply, of course, but it didn’t matter. She was already lost in her own thoughts, and I knew she wouldn’t give up until she worked out who had sent the flowers. But that couldn’t be allowed to happen, so I contacted Morgan and…’
Silence settled over the room. Fredrika grew impatient. Thea couldn’t stop speaking now they were so close to the end.
‘And?’ she prompted.
Thea was whispering now.
‘And I told him that the girl knew too much. I made him believe he would be found out if he didn’t act.’
‘How did you contact him?’
Thea was annoyed, in spite of her weariness.
‘I am fully mobile, actually, and as you are aware there is nothing wrong with my ability to speak. I called him one night when everyone was asleep.’
It was only then that Fredrika noticed the telephone on the wall of Thea’s room.
‘Ridiculous, isn’t it?’ Thea said, nodding at the phone. ‘But apparently there has to be a phone in every room, and since I am on the waiting list for one of the larger rooms at the other end of the building, they didn’t bother taking it out. I imagine they thought the odds on the next occupant of this room being unable to speak as well were pretty long.’
Fredrika thought things over. Would the information Thea had given be enough to get her convicted of incitement to murder?
‘Although if we have understood the situation correctly, Morgan had already been warned of the approaching danger,’ she said after a moment.
‘I don’t think so. Who would have warned him?’
‘Your son. Johan.’
Thea shook her head.
‘That’s not what happened.’
Once again, she was protecting her son, taking responsibility for his actions. Thea was starting to look very tired. Fredrika didn’t have much time to ask more questions.
‘You knew that Morgan Axberger was involved in the film that was shot in your parents’ summerhouse?’