“I did some research on Paul Wisköö, by the way, and, as you’ve probably already guessed, it’s a fake name. Guess what good old Neighbor Paul’s real name is?”
“No idea.”
“Paul Larson, alias Pepsi!”
Irene thought she recognized the name, but it took a few seconds before she was sure. She exclaimed, “Clark Bertilsson’s old buddy! Well, I’ll be damned. His resumé must be as long as the road between Kungsbacka and here. If he’s involved, then it’s definitely about narcotics. Lots of drugs.”
“Bingo. He’s served time for narcotics violations and bank robbery at various times. And a few years ago, Asko and Pepsi were in the same jail. They hit it off and became friends. They even live next door to each other.”
“And they have quite a bit of money. They live in huge new houses near the ocean outside Kungsbacka. Officially, what do they do?”
“Cars. They work at a company which only sells luxury cars, both new and used.”
“Is there a lot of money to be made from used luxury cars?”
“Let’s put it this way: Rather a used Porsche than no Porsche at all.”
“Good point. So, is there suspicion that their income is too big for the car business?”
“Yep. And both Pepsi and Asko have served time for narcotics violations and assault. My thinking is that these guys took a contract on Speedy. Rumor has it that Speedy embezzled money from his distributors. Because Speedy was a big dealer, it must have been a lot of money. The boss decided to get rid of Speedy, to make an example.”
“Do you have any idea who the head guy is?”
“Not a clue. The idea is that we begin by investigating Pepsi and Asko. It will be a difficult job to map out the circles these guys move in, but we’ll run this investigation together with Narcotics. They’ve been doing surveillance on the importing of luxury cars to Sweden. There is clear suspicion that the drugs are being smuggled in via the cars. Welded into beams and the like.”
“Have they found anything?”
“A Jag which seems to have no owner. It’s registered in a fake name and still parked in the garage. Of course, no one is stupid enough to inquire about a car that held five kilos of heroin and twice as much cocaine.”
“You’ll be very busy now,” she realized.
“Yup. You’ll have to go to London by yourself. But you have to promise not to do any investigating on your own. We haven’t really recovered from your last trip abroad.”
It was meant as a joke and Tommy smiled, but for the life of her Irene couldn’t join him. The events in Copenhagen more than year ago were still far too traumatic.
IRENE TOOK several wrong turns, even though it had only been a few days since she and Fredrik had located Eva Möller’s isolated cottage. It wasn’t until she saw the ruined split oak that she was certain she was on the right road. The sun had hidden itself behind a thick layer of clouds during her entire trip from Göteborg, but it broke through just as she pulled up next to Eva Möller’s red car and turned off the engine. It warmed and illuminated the property, and Irene had an easier time understanding why someone would want to live like the cantor. The view took her breath away just as it had the first time. Everyone who visited Eva must do the same thing: stop to admire the fantastic view.
When Irene turned her gaze from the valley and the distant blue sky, she saw Eva standing in the doorway. She waved in welcome, and Irene walked over to her.
“I’m so happy that you wanted to visit! Come in,” Eva said, and she sounded as if she meant it.
Irene stepped into the cozy kitchen and began to unbutton her coat, but Eva said, “Keep your coat on. We’ll go outside, since it’s so warm and comfortable near the house. You can help me carry things.” Without waiting for an answer, she gave Irene the iron pot and the glass staff from the shelf above the stove. She herself took a wooden box whose contents Irene couldn’t see, since it was covered with a blue cloth. Irene, puzzled, followed in her wake. What had she gotten herself into? Now it was too late to back out.
Eva walked up to the western wall of the house, where the sun was broiling hot. She set the box down and spread a well-ironed blue cloth over the table. She pointed at two white plastic chairs, one on either side of the table.
“Let’s sit and talk first. Put the things down in the meantime.” Irene did as she was told and sat on one of the cushionless chairs, which felt cold even through her jeans. Eva gracefully sank into the other chair. The dark-blue dress she was wearing was much more dramatic than the ethereal light-blue one she had worn on Irene’s first visit. It had long slits in the straight sleeves, and the dress itself was of a narrower cut. The V-neck was deep and revealed her cleavage, where a small silver bell hung. Over the dress, Eva wore a vest made of thin black yarn. It was ankle-length, made of extremely small crocheted stars sewn together.
“I know that you think what we’re going to do seems crazy, but it’s really very simple magic,” Eva started.
Irene didn’t reply, because she didn’t know what to say. “Regular magic is something that anyone can perform, but what we’re going to do requires much, much more. We’re going to try to uncover the deepest secrets of a dead person. It’s possible that it won’t work, but it’s worth a try.”
Eva smiled, and her eyes shone with excitement. The sun gleamed on her loose hair, and she looked completely enchanting. Definitely not like the witch she must see herself as. Eva’s little speech about magic had opened Irene’s eyes; now she wasn’t afraid, just curious.
“First we need to create a sacred room, and we couldn’t wish for a better room than Mother Earth’s sacred temple.”
Eva threw her hands out and made a sweeping gesture, encompassing the nature surrounding them. Irene had to agree that it was very pretty, now that the trees and bushes around Eva’s house were turning light green. It was warm near the wall of the house, and an early bumblebee buzzed lazily under the overhang of the roof in its attempt to find a good place to live. Irene felt relaxed. Suddenly, a picture of the mangled cat Felix popped up in her mind. It was strange, because she hadn’t actually seen the dead cat. She must have made a gesture of aversion, and Eva noticed it.
“Something is weighing on you. Tell me, and you’ll be rid of it. If you allow it to remain with you, it will affect your meditation and will weaken us. And we need all the energy we can get,” she said.
To her own surprise, Irene explained how Sammie had killed Felix, and described their neighbors’ terrible grief. She revealed that she wanted to give the Bernhögs a new cat. Eva stared at her for a moment, then rose and disappeared into the house.
After a few minutes, she came back and, with a sunny smile, said, “It’s been taken care of. We can pick up the kitten when you’re ready to go home.”
Irene was uncomfortable for a moment. Then she felt as if a knot in her stomach had loosened. She hadn’t been aware that it was there, but now that it was gone she felt free. It was easier to breathe. Irene inhaled deeply and, half unaware, noted that she was already ready for Mukuso-meditation.
“I have a ring of silicon stones here,” Eva said. “When we’ve entered the circle-the holy room-we must not leave it until we’ve finished everything we’re going to do. It would weaken the power.”
Irene nodded.
“Good. I’ll put the table inside the ring, so that we’ll have an altar.”
Eva lifted the table, carried it a few meters away, and set it down again. She straightened the cloth and backed up a few steps, as if to make sure the altar looked neat. When Irene stood, she saw a ring of small white stones lying in the thin grass. A large flat-topped stone lay inside the ring.