Camilla Läckberg - The Drowning

‘It feels great to be home,’ said Patrik with an audible sigh as he sat down next to Erica. He put his arm around her shoulders and propped his feet up on the coffee table.

‘And I’m so happy to have you home,’ said Erica, snuggling closer to him. For several minutes neither of them spoke as Patrik sipped his wine.

‘Christian has a sister,’ he said at last.

Erica gave a start. ‘A sister? I never heard that before. He always said that he didn’t have any family.’

‘That wasn’t really true. I know I’ll probably regret telling you about all this, but I’m just so bloody tired. Everything that I’ve heard today keeps buzzing around in my head, and I really need to talk to somebody. But this has to stay between the two of us. Okay?’ He gave her a stern look.

‘I promise. Go ahead and tell me.’

So Patrik told her about everything that he’d found out. They sat in the dark living room, the only light coming from the TV screen. Erica didn’t say a word, just listened carefully. Although she couldn’t help shuddering when Patrik told her how Alice had ended up brain-damaged and how Christian had lived with that secret all those years while Ragnar both protected him and kept an eye on him. Erica shook her head after Patrik finished telling her everything about Alice and about the emotionally callous childhood Christian had been forced to endure until he left the Lissander family.

‘Poor Christian.’

‘But that’s not the end of the story.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Erica, and then gasped as one of the babies gave her a hard kick in the lungs. The twins were especially lively tonight.

‘Christian met a woman during the time he was studying in Göteborg. Her name was Maria. She had an infant son, almost a newborn when they met. She had no contact with the father. Maria and Christian soon moved in together, in a flat in Partille. The boy, Emil, became Christian’s own son. The three of them seemed to have been very happy.’

‘So what happened?’ Erica wasn’t sure that she really wanted to know. It might be easier to put her hands over her ears and shut out what she suspected was going to be a dreadful and difficult end to this story. But she couldn’t help asking Patrik what happened.

‘One Wednesday in April Christian came home from the university.’ Patrik kept his voice carefully neutral, and Erica took his hand. ‘The door was unlocked, which immediately made him uneasy. He called for Maria and Emil, but there was no answer. He walked through the flat, looking for them. Everything looked the same as always. Their coats were hanging up in the hall, so he didn’t think they’d gone out. And Emil’s pram was in the stairwell.’

‘I don’t know if I want to hear any more,’ whispered Erica, but Patrik was staring straight ahead and didn’t seem to hear her.

‘He found them at last. In the bathroom. Both of them had drowned.’

‘Dear God.’ Erica put her hand over her mouth.

‘The boy was lying on his back in the tub. His mother’s head was submerged in the water, but the rest of her body was outside the bathtub. The post-mortem found bruises left by fingertips on the back of her neck. Someone had forcibly held her head underwater.’

‘Who…?’

‘I don’t know. The police never managed to find the murderer. Strangely enough, Christian was never considered a suspect, even though he was the closest to the victims. That’s why we never found out about the case when we looked for his name in the police records.’

‘How is that possible?’

‘I’m not really sure. Everyone who knew them testified that they were an exceptionally happy couple. Even Maria’s mother defended Christian. And besides, a neighbour saw a woman enter the flat about the time the deaths occurred, as established by the medical examiner.’

‘A woman?’ said Erica. ‘The same one who…?’

‘I don’t really know what to think any more. This case is driving me mad. Somehow it all fits together – everything that has happened to Christian. Someone hated him so intensely that not even the passage of time was able to dull those emotions.’

‘And you have no idea who it might be?’ Erica could feel an idea taking shape in her mind, but she couldn’t really grasp what it was. The image was blurry. But there was one thing she knew for sure: Patrik was right. Somehow all of the events were connected.

‘Would you mind if I went to bed?’ said Patrik, putting his hand on her knee.

‘Not at all. You do that, sweetheart,’ she said absentmindedly. ‘I’m going to stay up for a little while. Then I’ll come to bed too.’

‘Okay.’ He gave her a kiss and then he headed upstairs to their bedroom.

She stayed where she was, sitting on the sofa in the dark. The TV news programme was on, but she left the sound off so she could listen to her own thoughts. Alice. Maria and Emil. There was something she ought to be seeing, something she ought to understand. She shifted her gaze to the book lying on the coffee table. Slowly she picked it up and placed it in her lap so she could look at the cover and the title. The Mermaid . She thought about depression and guilt. About what Christian had wanted to convey in his novel. She knew that the answer was there, in the words and the sentences he had left behind. And she was going to find out what it was.

The nightmares started haunting him every night, as if they had been waiting for his conscience to awake. It was actually strange that it took so long. He had always known what happened, after all. He had pictured the way he had removed the baby bath seat and let Alice sink down into the water. And how her little body had kicked and flailed as she tried to breathe, and then how she grew so still. He had always seen her eyes, those blue eyes looking at him, unseeing, from under the water. He had always known, but he had never understood.

It was just a small thing, a tiny detail, that made him comprehend at last. It happened one day during that last summer. By then he already knew that he couldn’t stay. There had never been a place for him, but that insight came to him only gradually. Finally he knew that he had to leave the family.

The voices told him the same thing. One day they too had appeared, not unpleasant or nasty, but more like friends and confidants whispering to him.

The only time he doubted his decision was when he thought about Alice. But that feeling of hesitation never lasted long – because it made the voices grow stronger. So he decided to stay only until the summer was over. Then he would leave and never look back. And everything having to do with Mother and Father would be left behind.

On that particular day, Alice wanted some ice cream. She always wanted ice cream, and if he felt like it, he would go with her to the kiosk near the square. She always asked for the same thing: a cone with three scoops of strawberry ice cream. Sometimes he would purposely pretend to misunderstand and order chocolate ice cream for her instead. Then she would shake her head vigorously and tug at his arm, struggling to say the word ‘strawberry’.

Alice was always in seventh heaven when she got her special treat. Her face lit up with delight, and with the greatest satisfaction she would begin methodically licking at the ice cream. Round and round so that it wouldn’t start dripping. The same thing happened on that day. She got her cone first and slowly began walking away as he waited for his and then paid for both of them. When he turned around to follow Alice, he stopped in mid-stride. Erik, Kenneth, and Magnus. All three of them were sitting there, looking at him. Erik grinned.

He could feel the ice cream dripping from the cone on to his hand, but he had to walk past them. He tried looking straight ahead, out at the water. Tried to ignore their eyes and ignore the way his heart was pounding faster and faster. He took one step forward, then another. Suddenly he felt himself falling headlong. Erik had stuck out his foot just as he was passing. At the last second, he managed to put out his hands to break his fall. The weight of his body made his wrists twinge. The ice cream flew out of his hand, landing on the dirty pavement.