Åke Edwardson - Sail of Stone

“We can talk to the sister,” said Winter. “Maybe she knows everything.”

“Yes.”

“Should I continue to play your kitchen aide all afternoon?” asked Winter. “Or maybe it’s called a home health aide within the health-care field.”

“It can only be good for you,” said Ringmar.

“Are you done breathing?” said Winter.

“You should do it, too,” said Ringmar as Winter lit his cigarillo. “Breathe in the sea.”

“I prefer to eat it,” said Winter.

“I’ve tried,” said Ringmar, “but oysters are not my thing.”

“Too bad for you, Bertil.”

Ella Algotsson opened up after three knocks.

“I thought ya’d gone back,” she said.

“There’s a boat at four thirty,” said Ringmar.

“Is Arne awake?” asked Winter.

She didn’t answer.

“Is Arne awake?” asked Ringmar.

“That he is,” she answered.

“May we come in for a bit?”

Arne Algotsson looked like a larger version of his sister. There was no doubt that they were siblings, as though their advanced age had enhanced their common features. Arne Algotsson was sitting on a red chair in the kitchen, and he turned around as they came in. His face was illuminated by the light from the horizon, which was visible though the window. There was a different light on the back side of the house; a different space. You could see the strip of mainland.

Arne Algotsson nodded. His eyes were blue in the same way as his sister’s, as though the sea wind had scrubbed everything clean out there, even eyes. Everyone who lived there for a long time ended up with the same worn blue haze in their eyes. But the man’s eyes lacked his sister’s lucidity and focus. He seemed to look through the visitors without holding on to anything.

Winter let Ringmar off at the Margreteberg roundabout and drove home via Linnéplatsen, Övre Husargatan, Vasagatan.

The parking garage smelled like leaking oil.

The elevator smelled like cigars.

He heard children’s laughter in the stairwell. It was about time in this building. Everyone was twice as old as he and Angela were.

He loved this building.

It had always been there. It was larger than life, was there before he came, would be there when he was gone.

They could sublease it, for the time being. When the house was finished down on the beach. Bertil’s Moa needed a place. If she hadn’t settled into Kortedala too much. This would be suitable for her. A little big for one, but she could share.

He unlocked the door and Elsa came running through the hall.

They made toast and brewed tea. Winter fried a few slices of haloumi for its saltiness. There were olives on the table.

“Let’s have a glass of white wine too,” he said.

The phone rang as he uncorked the bottle.

“I’ll get it,” said Angela.

“No, me, me !” yelled Elsa.

She answered, a confident hello?

They saw her listening intently. Suddenly she giggled and said, “ Yes, suw .”

“Steve,” said Winter to Angela.

“ Ya prata svinska, ” said Macdonald when Winter took the phone.

“And Elsa speaks English,” said Winter.

“Yes, sir.” Macdonald excused himself for a second and said something to someone and came back. “I just got home.”

Steve Macdonald lived with his wife and their fourteen-year-old twin girls in a house, a cottage as he said, down in Kent, just over an hour’s drive south of Croydon. Croydon was part of London, but it was also one of England’s ten biggest cities. It wasn’t exactly idyllic, Croydon.

“Same here,” said Winter. “I just opened the wine.”

“Jamie called in the car,” said Macdonald.

“I spoke with him,” said Winter, “if you mean Craig.”

“Yes. The daughter has arrived.”

“And?”

“She’s identified the body as her father. There’s no doubt.”

“When did this happen?”

“Just now. Half an hour ago.”

“Then she’ll call me soon,” said Winter.

“Was he prone to depression? Or had he been mentally ill in some way?” asked Macdonald, direct questions.

“I don’t know, Steve. Not according to the daughter, anyway. Nothing that was treated.”

“They haven’t found the car,” said Macdonald.

“Craig figured it had been stolen. It’s common.”

“It should have turned up by now.”

“What does Craig say?”

“He agrees with me.” Winter heard Macdonald mumble something to someone again and then returned. “Sorry. We’re just going over to a neighbor’s soon to celebrate because his loutish son is moving out.” Macdonald coughed out a short laugh. “Okay. Just for your information. We did have time to put out a bulletin about this Osvald before we found him, and a number of tips and… observations have come in.”

“What did those tips say?”

“They say that people have apparently seen him about up here during the last few weeks. In fact, it seems he’s been seen all over Moray and even down by Aberdeenshire.”

“What does that imply? The area, I mean?”

“I don’t know if this will mean anything to you, but it’s all the way down along the coast over to Fraserburgh and then down to Peterhead. We’ve even gotten a report from Aberdeen. It’s rather a long way to Aberdeen. And someone says they saw the man inland as well.”

“Does that matter, Steve?”

“I don’t know, my friend.”

“Something happened to him,” said Winter.

“Yes,” said Macdonald.

“Is it connected to his travels?”

“Why else would he have made them? Roaming around in our godforsaken district?” said Macdonald. “He sure wasn’t there on holiday.”

Speaking of holidays, thought Winter.

“One more thing,” said Macdonald. “He wasn’t alone.”

“I’m listening.”

“If it’s our man the witnesses saw, one of them saw him with company.”

“Has the witness described this company?”

“It was an older man.”

“An older man,” Winter echoed. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck, as though it suddenly moved. He saw that Angela noticed.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Macdonald.

“Is there more?” said Winter.

“Well, I don’t know. It’s up to Craig in Inverness. It seems that more will probably come in.”

“Craig is an efficient man.”

“Yes, you can say that about him. An efficient asshole.”

“I thought he was a friend. I thought you recommended him for the job up there.”

“Why do you think I did that?”

Winter laughed. Elsa laughed when he laughed. She liked English. Angela looked at him with a wrinkle between her eyes.

“The farthest commissioner’s office in all of Great Britain. Why do you think I recommended Craig for that?”

“Okay, okay.”

“He doesn’t like it,” said Macdonald.

“No, I can understand that.”

“I don’t mean the job or the place. I’m talking about this case,” said Macdonald. “Craig is an angry bastard, but that’s also to his advantage. In his career. He says that things aren’t what they look like.”

“What did you say he said?”

“Things are not what they look like,” repeated Macdonald. “That’s what he said.”

Winter felt the hair on the back of his neck again. Angela saw how serious he was.

“They’re doing another autopsy,” said Macdonald.

“Has Johanna accepted that? The daughter, that is.”

“Yes. According to Craig. But he didn’t think they would find anything there.”

“Where will they find something then?”

“Don’t ask me, Erik.”

“And what will they find?” said Winter.

“You sound quite involved in this,” said Macdonald.