Åke Edwardson - Sail of Stone

“Other people’s mistakes. It’s about other people’s mistakes,” said Susanne.

“Sorry?”

“It’s about other people,” Susanne repeated. “We were talking about mistakes, right? Aren’t you listening?”

“And you’re going to help fix all these mistakes?”

Susanne didn’t answer. She looked at the house. Aneta had also seen the movement in the window. A shadow, a silhouette.

“I’m just going to explain what Hans is actually like to the people who don’t understand,” said Susanne.

“Explain to whom? To the woman behind the window there?” said Aneta, nodding at the house and the window.

Susanne nodded.

“Is it Anette?”

Susanne turned to her again.

“I haven’t had time to check yet, have I? I haven’t had time, have I? You came tumbling down through the trees before I had time to knock, didn’t you?”

“Where is Hans right now?” asked Aneta. “We’re trying to contact him.”

“Look in the trunk!” said Susanne, letting out a laugh that was like a bark that echoed away across the bay.

Aneta didn’t believe many of Susanne’s words, but she believed the half-wild laugh.

Bertil Ringmar stared through the balcony window at the neighbor’s yard, which was entirely too visible behind a hedge that was entirely too low. His neighbor was crazy, an administrator from the hospital world who had gone a bit nuts when he had administrated away everything of value within health care; it all went to pieces, putz weg, every little bit, including his own job, and now he worked on various bits of his own yard.

The telephone rang.

“Hope I’m bothering you,” said Halders.

“As always,” answered Ringmar.

“Do you know what Aneta’s up to this afternoon?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“I asked Erik, and he didn’t know either,” answered Halders as though to himself. Ringmar could hear his concern.

“Call her.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?”

“What is it about?”

“We’re going to bring in the wife beater anyway for a little questioning, and I thought that she wanted to be there. We’ve found das Schweinehund. ”

“Isn’t it der Schweinehund ?” said Ringmar.

“Or die, ” said Halders. “In any case, we ran into a remarkable specimen this morning.”

“You are a true people person, Fredrik.”

“Yeah, right? I protect people, don’t I?”

Ringmar was still standing at the balcony door. He saw the neighbor come out and walk down the path built alongside a number of concrete slabs that looked like Viking graves. Candles were burning; they were like bonnets on top of the graves. The first time Ringmar had seen it when it was completed, which hadn’t been more than a few weeks ago, he had giggled in the same peculiar way Inspector Clouseau’s boss did in the later Pink Panther films before he lost his wits forever. Ringmar liked those films, especially the inspector’s unorthodox methods of doing his job.

“Aneta won’t do anything stupid,” said Ringmar.

“We all make mistakes,” said Halders.

“She’s worked with you so much that she’s learned,” said Ringmar.

“To make mistakes?”

“To avoid them. By seeing what you do and then doing the opposite.”

“I don’t like this,” said Halders. “It feels like she rushed off.”

“She’ll call,” said Ringmar, looking at his watch. “It’s after working hours.”

He heard Halders grunt an answer that he didn’t understand and then hang up.

The neighbor out there lit some more lights. Ringmar cradled the telephone receiver and then laid it down in an exaggeratedly careful manner. Dusk was on its way. The neighbor began his uncompromising war against darkness. Try to look at it that way, Bertil.

“Perhaps you’d like to knock?” said Susanne. She made a motion as though she were inviting Aneta to step in front of her in line.

They were still standing ten or fifteen yards from the house, which was larger than it looked from the hill. It had more than one window that faced the sea. There was a veranda there. It must have been sensational to sit there as the sun went down. But today it wasn’t going down, not so one could see.

What awaits us in there? Aneta was thinking. Someone is there.

There were no other vehicles on the lot. There was no garage.

Susanne made a sudden movement and Aneta gave a start. She thought she saw something moving out on the water, out of the corner of her eye, but when she looked there was nothing there.

It was as though the water wanted to tell her something.

Or that it meant something, something important that had to do with her, Aneta.

The water was a danger to her.

Don’t come here!

Go away!

She saw a dock that must have belonged to the house. She saw a plastic boat. It was tied to the dock. She saw oars sticking up. The boat floated calmly in the water.

Susanne stood at the front door and knocked. Aneta walked over. Susanne knocked again.

The door opened slowly. It was dark inside. Aneta saw the outline of a face.

“Go away!” said the face.

Susanne started to say something, but Aneta was faster and showed her police badge.

“Could you please open up?” she said.

The face seemed to retreat. The door was still open a few inches. Perhaps that meant they could step into the cottage.

Susanne did.

Aneta followed her.

There was no light in the hall, which was narrow and long. The light of dusk could be seen outside of a window that was dimly visible where the hall ended and a room began. Someone moved in the room. Aneta saw a face. It belonged to an older woman.

“Mrs. Lindsten?” she said.

There was no answer.

“Signe, hello,” said Susanne.

Aha, she’s Signe to her. Am I the one she doesn’t want to let in?

“Anette isn’t here,” they heard from the room.

Why did you come here alone? thought Aneta.

Susanne walked down the hall, and Aneta followed her.

The light in the room came from the sea. On bright days, it must be a very bright room, thought Aneta. Right now I can’t really see this woman’s face.

“Signe, you have to let Hans talk to Anette,” said Susanne.

“Can’t you leave her alone ?” said Signe Lindsten in a voice that was more powerful than Aneta could have imagined.

“He just wants to talk, ” said Susanne.

Did he want something else before? wondered Aneta.

“Do you feel threatened by these people?” asked Aneta. “You can tell me.”

“Oh, God,” said Susanne.

“You understand that I’m from the police?” said Aneta.

She thought she saw Signe Lindsten nod.

“Where is Anette?” asked Aneta.

Signe Lindsten didn’t answer. Aneta realized her mistake. A damn stupid question to ask when Forsblad’s loyal sister was standing next to her.

“I’d like to ask you to step out for a minute,” she said to Susanne.

Susanne didn’t move. Aneta realized that Susanne realized that she had to leave, and that she was trying to say something but couldn’t quite figure out what.

Suddenly Susanne turned around, said, “ Mistake, ” in a loud voice, and left, stomping down the hall in her low-heeled boots, and before Aneta had time to say anything else to Signe Lindsten she heard the car roar to life and drive away. She hadn’t seen the road when she climbed down between the trees, but she hadn’t looked for it.

Winter walked across Heden. Middle-aged men were playing soccer with contorted faces. That was as it should be. He heard screams that sounded like a cry for help. He looked around for the meat wagon but didn’t see it, nor did he see heart-and-lung machines.