They sat in silence, looking around. It was a gloomy room in a gloomy house. A dark brown wall-to-wall carpet lay on the floor. The walls were covered with dark green wallpaper. Paintings clustered thickly on three of them, mostly scenes of animals in a winter landscape: deer in the snow, ptarmigans in the snow, elk and hares in the snow. None of the officers was any sort of art connoisseur, but they could all see that these paintings were hardly of the same caliber as a work by Bruno Liljefors, for example. The fourth wall was devoted to guns of various types. To Karin Jacobsson’s horror, she noticed a stuffed green parakeet sitting on a perch on top of what looked like a handmade lace doily on the side table.
The house had a silent, oppressive atmosphere, as if the walls were sighing. Heavy curtains with intricate tie-backs blocked most of the light from the windows. The furniture was dark and ungainly and had seen better days.
Just as Knutas was wondering how he was going to get himself out of the sagging old sofa without asking for a hand up, Jan Hagman appeared in the room. He had changed into a clean shirt but had the same surly expression on his face. He sat down in an armchair next to one of the windows.
Knutas cleared his throat. “We’re not here with regard to the tragic death of your wife. Ahem… And of course we’re sorry for your loss,” said Knutas, coughing again.
Now Hagman was giving him a hostile stare.
“This has to do with a different matter,” the superintendent went on. “I assume that you’ve heard about the two women who were murdered here on Gotland. The police are working their way back in time, to investigate the backgrounds of the women. It has come to light that you had a relationship with one of them, Helena Hillerstrom, in the early eighties when you were working at Save School. Is that true?”
The oppressive atmosphere in the room became even more intense. Hagman’s expression didn’t change.
A long silence followed. Kihlgard was sweating and fidgeting, making his chair creak. Knutas waited, keeping his eyes steadily fixed on Hagman’s face.
Jacobsson was longing for a glass of water. When the son came into the room carrying a coffee tray, it felt as if someone had opened a window.
“I thought you might want some coffee,” he said stiffly, and he set down on the table his tray with the cups and a plate of store-bought jam cookies.
“Thank you,” murmured the three officers in unison, and the tense mood was pushed aside for a moment by the clattering of china as the coffee was served.
“You need to leave us alone now,” said the father harshly. “And close the door after you.”
“All right,” said his son, and left the room.
“So, what about this whole episode with Helena Hillerstrom?” asked Knutas again after the door closed.
“It’s true. We had a relationship.”
“How did it start?”
“She was one of my students, and we got on well during class. She was so cheerful and…”
“And?”
“Well, she made it more fun to teach.”
“How did the relationship start?”
“It happened at a school dance in the fall. Helena was in her second year. This was in 1982.”
“What were you doing there?”
“I was one of the teachers who was there as a chaperone.”
“What happened between you and Helena?”
“That night when we were cleaning up after the dance was over, she stayed behind to help. She loved to talk, you know…” Hagman’s voice faded out, and his expression softened.
“What happened?”
“She needed a ride home after the party, and we lived in the same part of town, so I offered to drive her home. After that I don’t really know how it happened. She kissed me. She was young and attractive, and I’m just a man, after all.”
“And after that?”
“We started meeting in secret. I was married, you know, and had children.”
“How often did you meet?”
“Quite often.”
“How often?”
“Well, it was probably two or three times a week.”
“What about your wife? Did she notice anything?”
“No. We usually met in the daytime, in the afternoon. And my children were big enough to look after themselves.”
“How was your marriage?”
“Not good. It was completely dead. That’s why I didn’t feel guilty. Not because of my wife, at any rate,” said Hagman.
“What was Helena like as a person?” asked Kihlgard.
“She was… I don’t know what I should say.” He hesitated. “She was wonderful. She made me feel alive again.”
“How long did the relationship last?”
“It ended at the beginning of summer vacation.”
Hagman looked down at his hands. Karin Jacobsson had noticed that he kept twiddling his thumbs, almost nonstop. She remembered that he had done the same thing the last time she was here, after his wife’s death. Imagine that there are people who still do that, she thought.
“Late in the spring, in May, I think, the class went on a trip to Stockholm. Several other teachers went along.”
“What happened?”
“After dinner one evening, Helena and I weren’t very careful. She went back to my room with me. Apparently someone saw us and reported it to one of the other teachers. The teacher told me what she had heard. There was nothing I could do but confess. She said it wouldn’t go any farther if I promised never to see Helena again. So I promised.”
“Then what happened?”
“We got back from the trip, and I broke up with Helena. But she didn’t understand. It wasn’t long before we started seeing each other again. I couldn’t help myself. Late one night one of my colleagues came upon us in the locker room. That was the week after summer vacation had started for all the students. We teachers had to work one more week.”
“How did the school administration react?”
“The principal didn’t make a big ruckus about it. He arranged for me to take a job at a different school. There was a lot of talk, and they really let me have it. In most people’s eyes I was a real loser. My wife found out, of course. I wanted a divorce, but she refused. We decided to move away. My new job was in Oja, so we bought this farm. It was a good place, quite close, and we could escape from all the gossip. I couldn’t keep on seeing Helena. When her parents found out about it, they went crazy. They wrote me a letter threatening to kill me if I ever came near their daughter again.”
“How did Helena react?”
Hagman sat in silence for a long time. He frantically twiddled his thumbs. At last the silence became very uncomfortable, and Knutas was just about to ask the question again when the answer came.
“I never heard from her again. She was so young. I suppose she just went on with her life.”
“Didn’t you try to contact her?”
Hagman raised his head and looked Knutas straight in the eyes when he replied. “No. Never.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“It was that night. In the locker room.”
“And you chose not to leave your wife?”
“That’s right. She wanted to forget all about it and move on. I don’t know why. She never loved me. She didn’t love the children, either,” said Hagman, glancing toward the closed door, as if he wanted to be sure that his son couldn’t hear.
“Did your children ever find out what had happened?”
“No, they didn’t notice a thing. Jens wasn’t even living at home. He had moved in with my sister and brother-in-law in Stockholm right after middle school. He wanted to go to high school over there. Since then, he has always lived in Stockholm. He just comes here to visit. My daughter, Elin, lives in Halmstad. She met her boyfriend after high school and then moved there.”
Again there was silence. Knutas noticed a ladybug crawling up one of the table legs. They’re everywhere, he thought.
Kihlgard broke the silence. “Have you had any relationships with students other than Helena?” he ventured.
The change was immediate. Hagman’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the arms of his chair. He gave Kihlgard a furious glare. “What the hell do you think you’re saying?” He spat out the words as if they were missiles.