Camilla Lackberg - The Lost Boy

‘What a splendid day, my darling.’ Erling kissed her on the lips. He looked rested. Yesterday she had given him the sleeping tablet at seven o’clock, so he’d slept for thirteen hours straight. Now he was practically bounding around in his white suit. After giving her another kiss, he hurried off.

The guests began entering the building.

‘Welcome. I hope you have a pleasant stay at Badis.’ Vivianne shook hands, smiling and repeating her words of welcome again and again. She looked as if she’d stepped out of a fairytale, wearing a white, ankle-length gown, and with her thick hair hanging in a plait down her back, as usual.

When everyone had gone inside, and she and Anders were alone for a moment, her smile faded and her expression grew serious. She turned to face her brother.

‘We always tell each other everything, don’t we?’ she said in a low voice. She ached with longing to hear him say what she wanted to hear. She truly wanted to believe him. But Anders looked away, and didn’t say a word.

Vivianne was about to ask him again, but a late-arriving guest was approaching the entrance, so she plastered on her warmest smile. Inside, she felt ice-cold.

‘Why did your wife go out there?’ asked Petra.

Patrik was driving to Fjällbacka as fast as he dared. He explained about the books that Erica wrote and told them that lately she had started researching Gråskär, just for her own amusement.

‘She probably wanted to show Nathalie what she’d found.’

‘There’s no reason to think that she’s in any danger,’ said Konrad, sitting in the back seat and trying to reassure Patrik.

‘No, I realize that,’ said Patrik. At the same time he had a feeling that he needed to get out to Gråskär as fast as possible. He had phoned Peter, who promised to have the Coast Guard vessel ready when they arrived.

‘I’m still wondering what the motive could be,’ said Konrad.

‘Hopefully we’ll find out soon – if Patrik is right, that is.’ Petra didn’t sound completely convinced.

‘So you’re saying that, according to a witness, Mats Sverin had a woman in the car with him when he came home on the night he was shot? How reliable is the witness?’ Konrad leaned forward to stick his head between the front seats. Outside the car windows, the countryside was passing by at breakneck speed, but neither Petra nor Konrad seemed particularly concerned.

Patrik considered how much he should tell them. The truth was that Old Man Grip was not the most reliable of witnesses. For a start, he claimed that it was his cat who had seen the woman. That was the first thing that had occurred to Patrik when he heard that the bullets matched. In Martin’s report, it said that the cat was sitting in the window, hissing at the car, and a few lines above it said: ‘Marilyn doesn’t like women. She hisses at them.’ Martin hadn’t noticed the connection, and Patrik hadn’t either when he first read the report. But combined with the other details that had emerged, it was enough for Patrik to send Martin back to have another talk with Grip. This time he managed to get the man to admit that a woman was seen getting out of the car that had stopped in front of the block of flats in the early hours of Saturday. After hesitating a bit, he had also confirmed that it was Sverin’s car. Unfortunately, Grip continued to insist that it was his cat who had seen all of this. Patrik decided to omit this last detail for the time being.

‘The witness is certain,’ he said, hoping that would satisfy his colleagues. The important thing now was to reach Erica as quickly as possible and have a talk with Nathalie. Everything else could wait. Besides, they had the boat. According to the expert that Gösta had talked to, it was not only possible but very likely that Sverin’s boat had drifted from Gråskär when it ended up stranded in that inlet.

In Patrik’s mind, a plausible chain of events had begun to unfold. Mats had gone out to visit Nathalie, and for some reason she had then accompanied him in his boat to Fjällbacka. They had driven to Mats’s flat, where she had shot him. He had trusted Nathalie, so he didn’t hesitate to turn his back on her. Then she had gone back to the harbour, taken Sverin’s boat to Gråskär, and let it go from there, causing it to drift off until it got stuck and was later found. That much was crystal clear. Except that Patrik still didn’t have any idea why Nathalie would want to kill Mats and possibly also her husband. And why did they leave Gråskär and go back to Fjällbacka in the middle of the night? Did it have something to do with the cocaine? Had Mats been involved in business transactions with Nathalie’s husband? Did the unidentified fingerprint on the bag belong to her?

Patrik stepped even harder on the accelerator. Now they were racing through Fjällbacka, and he slowed down a bit when he almost ran into an elderly man who was crossing the street near Ingrid Bergman Square.

He parked the car at the harbour near the Coast Guard vessel and jumped out. He was relieved to see that Peter had already started up the motor. Konrad and Petra trotted after him and jumped on board.

‘Don’t worry,’ Konrad said. ‘At this point, it’s all speculation, and there’s no reason to believe that your wife is in danger, even if your theory turns out to be correct.’

Patrik glanced at him as he held on to the railing of the boat, which was speeding out of the harbour faster than was normally allowed.

‘You don’t know Erica. She has a talent for sticking her nose into everyone’s business. Even people who have nothing to hide think that she asks too many questions. You might say that she’s really persistent.’

‘She sounds like a woman after my own heart,’ said Petra, staring with fascination at the archipelago they were traversing.

‘And besides, she’s not answering her mobile,’ said Patrik.

No one said a word for the rest of the crossing. They saw the lighthouse in the distance, and Patrik felt his stomach lurch with fear as they neared the island. He couldn’t stop thinking about the other name for Gråskär, the name that the locals called it: Ghost Isle. And why it had got the name.

Peter slowed down and steered the boat over to the dock, next to the wooden motorboat that belonged to Erica and Patrik. There was no one in sight, either living or dead.

Everything was going to be fine. They were together. She and Sam. And the dead were keeping watch over them.

Nathalie hummed as she stood in the water holding Sam in her arms. It was a song that she had always sung to him when he was younger and couldn’t sleep. He lay in her arms and felt so light because the water was helping to carry him. A few drops splashed upon his face, and she carefully wiped them away. He didn’t like getting water in his face. As soon as he was feeling better, she was going to teach him to swim. He was old enough now to learn to swim and ride a bike, and soon he’d be losing his baby teeth. Then he’d have a big gap in his teeth, showing that he would soon leave the first years of childhood behind.

Fredrik had always been impatient with Sam and demanded too much of him. He thought that she coddled him, claiming that she wanted him to remain a child. Fredrik was wrong. She wanted nothing more than for Sam to grow up, but he had to do it at his own pace.

Then he had tried to take Sam away from her. In that arrogant voice of his, Fredrik had said that the boy would be better off with a different mother. The memory started encroaching, and she hummed louder to make it go away. But those terrible words had already crept into her soul, drowning out the song. The other woman would be better, he had told her. She was the one who would be Sam’s new mother and accompany him and Sam to Italy. Nathalie wasn’t going to be his mother any more. She was going to disappear.