Выбрать главу

“Officers Thompson and Huss, I believe. I’m Dr. Fischer. Come in.”

He made them a slight bow, greeting them without shaking hands, and gestured toward his office. They passed through a dark hall and came to a small living room used as a waiting room. “Rebecka would like us to sit in here,” said Dr. Fischer. He opened the door and stepped across the threshold first. It was furnished with antique furniture which harmonized well with the decorative plaster work of the ceiling and the lead-framed mullions in the top of the windows. There were Oriental rugs on the floor which looked genuine to Irene’s untrained eye. Everything pointed to this not being your average clinic; the charges were doubtless above average as well.

Fischer approached a woman who was seated in an armchair next to one of the windows and laid one hand on her shoulder.

The light came from the side and fell on the right half of Rebecka’s face. Irene could see that she was thinner than she had been in the pictures taken at the Christmas breakfast. She was dressed in a white cotton polo shirt and a black suit in a thin material which was beautifully tailored. As far as Irene could see, she wasn’t wearing any jewelry. Her hair was longer than in the photos, and just as thick. However, it was completely dull, as if it hadn’t been washed for quite some time. It suited her to have lost a few kilos. Her full lips and high cheekbones had become more prominent. Her eyes, looking large and empty in her pale face, betrayed her worry and anguish. Irene could see what it was that had made Christian Lefévre try to keep Rebecka away from them. He wanted to protect her against her own fear and pain.

She heard Eva Möller’s voice again: “Rebecka is like her father. …”

“Rebecka, these are the police officers who want to speak with you,” said Dr. Fischer.

Irene and Glen walked over, shook hands, and introduced themselves. Rebecka’s hand felt limp and cold. Irene was unsure about how she should begin, so she said hesitantly, in Swedish, “I don’t really know how I should express my colleagues’ and my sympathy for you. What has happened to your family is tragic, and we’re doing everything we can to solve the murders. But we need your help. There are too many questions we don’t have the answers to. Do you think you have the strength to answer a few questions?”

Rebecka nodded almost imperceptibly without looking at Irene.

“My first question is, do you have any thoughts as to a motive for the killings?”

A brief headshake was the only response.

“Have your parents or Jacob ever told you that they had been threatened?”

“No,” Rebecka replied softly and hoarsely.

“Have you personally ever been threatened?”

Another headshake, slightly stronger.

No one in the family had been threatened, but now three out of the four were dead. It sounded unlikely. Rebecka must know something, even if she didn’t realize it, Irene thought.

“Do you know of anyone who could have hated your parents so much that he or she could have killed them?”

“No.”

“And Jacob didn’t have any enemy you knew of either?”

“No.”

Neither Dr. Fischer nor Glen understood a word of their conversation, of course, but both of them sat perfectly still.

Irene would have given almost anything to hand the conversation over to Glen. After the previous evening’s events, she was off kilter. But she had to conduct this interview herself. She decided to start another topic.

“We’ve heard that your father asked for your help in tracing Satanists via the Internet. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Did you find anything useful?”

For the first time Rebecka looked at Irene, but she turned away before she answered. “We found a lot of their propaganda. But Pappa wanted to find the ones who had burned down the church. There were just chat sites on the Web.”

“Chat sites?”

“Yes. On one, someone congratulated them on the. . ‘successful raid against the enemy’s temple by the sea.’ Signed, ‘Satan’s faithful servant.’ I managed to trace it to a computer at a high school in Lerum. That was it.”

She spoke with a great deal of difficulty, and Irene saw cold sweat break out on her forehead. It was clear that this was hard for her.

“Do you know if your father managed to find anything during his own investigations?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“You weren’t home this past Christmas, correct?”

“No.”

“So it has been a while since you saw your parents?”

Irene let the question hang in the air on purpose since she really didn’t know how she ought to continue, but she was surprised to see Rebecka wince. She took a deep, audible breath before whispering, “Yes.”

“When was the last time you saw them?”

Rebecka licked her dry lips. “Easter. . one year ago. . ”

“Did you notice anything out of the ordinary? An unusual or strange feeling? Someone who said something odd?”

Rebecka appeared to be thinking. “No.”

“Did your father speak about the Satanists?”

“No.”

“Did your mother say anything about Satanists?”

“No.”

Rebecka sagged against the backrest. Her face was ashen, and Irene realized that she wouldn’t be able to handle much more. The next question was sensitive, but it had to be asked. In a gentle voice, Irene said, “We found a book about Satanism at your brother’s. It was hidden in the cottage. It was written by a founding figure within Satanism-”

“LaVey.”

“You know the book?”

“I bought it. Here in London.”

“Why?”

“He wanted it. I gave it to him as a Christmas present.”

“Last Christmas?”

“No, the Christmas before.”

“The Christmas when you were home?”

“Yes.”

“Have you read it yourself?”

“No.”

“The book was hidden in a space behind a wall panel in one of the bedrooms in the cottage. He also kept a rifle there. Did you know about that hiding place?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know that he had a rifle behind the wall panel?”

Rebecka shook her head slowly.

“Who else knows about the hiding place?”

“Only our family. It was like a. . safe.”

Rebecka closed her eyes and leaned her head back. It looked like she didn’t have the energy to hold up its weight any longer. Dr. Fischer started clearing his throat and twisting his large body in the chair he sat in. Irene thought feverishly. She realized that her time was almost up. Suddenly, she remembered something she had been wondering about.

“Someone said that you had been home last summer and that you had had your boyfriend with you. Is that correct?”

Rebecka looked like she was asleep but after a while she opened her eyes and looked straight at Irene. “It was Christian and myself. We were called to Stockholm. . to do a job. Christian had never been to Sweden. We flew to Landvetter and rented a car. Drove up. . so that he could see. We drove past Kullahult. They weren’t home. Unusual.”

“Did your parents know you were coming?”

“No. Short notice. I thought about surprising them. Idiot-proof. . they never went anywhere. And just that day, they drove to see Pappa’s old school friend in Värmland. Went to a market, I think.”

“Did you tell them later that you had been in Kullahult?”

“Actually, I don’t think so. We just drove by.”

“Did you see Jacob?”