Åsa Larsson - Until Thy Wrath Be Past

Hjalmar stayed leaning against the door jamb and said nothing. His face was expressionless, his eyes blank, his mouth open. It was impossible to say if he had heard what his brother had said. A shiver ran down Mella’s spine.

“When Stig Rautio’s summer cottage was burgled, could we get you out here to investigate?” Tore said. “Like hell. We told you what you needed to do – check cars with Polish registration. If you’d done that, you’d have found his stuff in a flash. They’ve caught on to the fact that it’s a waste of time picking berries up here. They can break into people’s property and earn themselves a packet, no risk at all, ’cos the police… fuck only knows what you get up to, you seem to have more important things to do than catch thieves. Bikes, out-board motors… no matter what gets nicked, everyone knows it’s pointless going to the police. Our drivers have stuff pinched all the time. The crooks cut open the tarps and take whatever they like. There hasn’t been a single thief brought to book all the years I’ve worked for the firm.”

He leaned over the table. Thrust his face close to Mella’s.

“You couldn’t give a fuck about us,” he said. “Snotty-nosed kids vandalize cars and smash windscreens, and the worst that can happen is that they end up with some old crone at Social Services who tells them what deprived childhoods they’ve had. Half-witted, feather-brained old biddies. That’s what the bloody lot of you are, if you ask me. So, what are you nosing around here for?”

“If you back off, I’ll be pleased to inform you,” Mella said, slipping into the measured, professional tone of voice she always used when dealing with people who were aggressive or drunk and looking for trouble.

“You think I should back off, do you?” Tore said, without shifting a millimetre.

He jabbed his index finger hard on the table in front of Mella.

“I pay your wages. Just bear that in mind, constabitch. Me, my brother, my father. People like us with real jobs who actually do something useful and pay taxes. You could say you’re my employee. And I think you do a bloody awful job. Am I allowed to think that?”

“You can if you like,” Mella said. “I’m leaving.”

Tore’s face was still pressed up against hers. Now he backed off slightly and waved his hand about in front of her face.

“There’s no charge for fresh air, I suppose you know that?” he said.

“Didn’t you want to use the toilet?” Kerttu said. “You came in because you wanted to go to the toilet. It’s to the right in the hall.”

Mella nodded. Hjalmar Krekula moved unhurriedly to one side, so that she could get past him.

Once safely in the toilet, she took a deep breath. What ghastly people.

She stood there for a while, trying to pull herself together. Then she flushed the lavatory and turned on the tap.

There was no sign of Hjalmar when she came out. Tore was sitting at the kitchen table. Mella took her jacket from the chair and put it on.

“You can’t go yet,” Tore said. “Hjalmar has let Reijo out. He’ll gobble you up.”

“Could you ask him to shut the dog in again, please,” Mella said. “I want to go now.”

“He’s just letting him do a quick round of the house. In a hurry, are you? Lots to do?”

Don’t let them see you’re afraid, Mella told herself.

“Do you know where Wilma and Simon were planning to go diving?” she said, her voice steady as a rock.

She heard a faint groan coming from the little room next to the kitchen. It was the sound of a restless sleeper. An old man.

“How is he?” Tore asked his mother.

She replied with a shrug and an expression on her face that seemed to signify “same as usual”.

Mella wondered if the sleeping man was Isak Krekula. She supposed it must be. She ought to ask about what Johannes Svarvare had told her, about Isak Krekula having a heart attack a week or so before the kids disappeared, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Nor could she manage to ask again whether any of them knew where Simon and Wilma were planning to go diving. She was sweating, and all she wanted to do was to get away. The kitchen really was ugly. Painted various peculiar shades of green, as if they had mixed green paint with a bit of white here and there. There were hardly any countertops, and what little space there was had cheap, ugly ornaments crammed into it.

The door opened and Hjalmar came in.

“Can she go now?” Tore asked his brother in an odd tone of voice.

Hjalmar didn’t reply, didn’t look at Mella.

“Goodbye, then,” she said. “I may be back.”

She left the house. The dog was barking nonstop. Both brothers followed her out. They stood in the porch, watching her.

“What the hell?” she said when she got to her car.

All the tyres were flat.

“My tyres!” she said, aghast.

“Well, fuck me!” Tore said. “No doubt some kids did it.”

He smiled so there could be no doubt that he was lying.

Someone has to come and fetch me, Mella thought, fumbling for her mobile in the inside pocket of her jacket. Her first thought was Stålnacke – but no, that was out of the question. She would have to ring Robert. He would have to bring Gustav with him.

The mobile was not in the pocket where she usually kept it. She felt in her other pockets. No phone. Had she left it in the car? She checked. No.

She looked at the brothers standing in the porch. They had taken it. While she had been in the toilet.

“My mobile,” she said. “It’s missing.”

“I hope you’re not suggesting that we took it,” Tore said. “That would really piss me off. Come out here and start casting aspersions. Do you need a lift into town?”

“No. I need to borrow a phone.”

She looked at the dog. It was running around in its pen, barking gruffly. Typical behaviour for a dog that would run off if it got the chance. Hjalmar had not let it out at all. If he had done, it would be several kilometres away by now. Besides, the snow around the pen was unmarked.

“Mother’s telephone is out of order,” Tore said. “Hop into the red Volvo. Me and Hjallie are going to town anyway. You can come with us.”

They must be out of their minds, she thought.

A series of images flashed through her mind. Hjalmar wrenches open the back door and drags her out of the car. Tore has driven on-to a forest track. Hjalmar grabs hold of her hair and bashes her head against a tree trunk. He pins her arms down while Tore rapes her.

I’m not getting into a car with them, she thought. I’d rather walk all the way back to town.

“I’ll manage,” she said. “I’ll come back with some colleagues and collect the car.”

Turning on her heel, she strode off. Followed the village street in the direction of Anni Autio’s house. Halfway there she was overtaken by Tore and Hjalmar Krekula in their car, on the way to Kiruna. She half-expected them to stop and for Tore to offer her a lift again, but they just sailed past without even slowing down. She forced herself to walk at normal speed.

I’ll borrow Anni’s telephone, she thought.

Then she remembered that she’d promised to go back and help Anni down the stairs.

Good Lord, she thought. I’d forgotten all about that.

Anni was fast asleep upstairs in Wilma’s room. She had pulled the bedspread over her. When Mella sat down on the edge of the bed, she opened her eyes.

“Back already?” she said. “How about a cup of coffee?”

“If I drink another cup of coffee, I’ll drop down and die,” Mella said with a wry smile. “Can I borrow your phone?”

Anni did not sit up, but her eyes were suddenly wide open and searching.

“What’s happened?” she said.