Camilla Läckberg - The Drowning

‘I’ve just talked to Erik Lind’s wife. Louise.’

‘And?’ said Patrik, still without any show of enthusiasm.

‘According to her, Erik is about to leave the country. He emptied all their bank accounts, both their personal accounts and the ones belonging to the company. He’s booked on a plane leaving from Landvetter airport at five o’clock.’

‘Really?’ said Patrik. His interest was now definitely aroused.

‘Yes, I’ve checked it out. What do you want us to do?’

‘Take Martin and leave for Göteborg immediately. I’ll make a call to make the necessary arrangements and ask our colleagues to meet you at the airport.’

‘That’ll be a real pleasure for me!’

Patrik couldn’t help smiling as he headed for his car. Gösta was right. It would be a pleasure to throw a monkey wrench into Erik’s plans. Then Patrik thought about the book he’d just read, and his smile disappeared. He hoped that Erica would be at home when he got there. He needed her help to put an end to this case.

Patrik had come to the same conclusion. Erica understood that as soon as she heard his message on her voicemail. But he didn’t know everything. He hadn’t heard the story that Kenneth had told her.

She’d been forced to make a detour to Hamburgsund to take care of something. But when she was back out on the motorway, she stomped on the accelerator. There really wasn’t any reason to hurry, but she was feeling impatient. It was time for all the secrets to be revealed.

As she turned into the driveway at their house, she saw Patrik’s car parked in front. She had phoned him to say that she was on her way and to ask if she should meet him at the police station. But by that time, he was already at home, waiting for her. And for her piece of the puzzle.

‘Hi, sweetheart.’ Erica went into the kitchen and gave her husband a kiss.

‘I’ve read the book,’ he said.

She nodded. ‘I should have worked it out sooner. But I read an unfinished manuscript. And in stages – not all in one sitting. I still don’t know how I could have missed it.’

‘I should have read the book earlier,’ said Patrik. ‘Magnus read it the night before he disappeared. Which was also most likely the night before he died. Christian had given him the manuscript. I just talked to Cia, and she said that Magnus started reading it in the evening and surprised her by staying up all night to finish it. She asked him about it in the morning, wanting to know whether it was a good book. But he told her that he didn’t want to discuss it until after he’d talked to Christian. The worst part is that if we go back and look through our notes, I’m sure we’ll find that Cia mentioned this before. We just didn’t think it was important and never gave it a second thought.’

‘Magnus must have understood everything after he read the manuscript,’ said Erica quietly. ‘And realized who Christian was.’

‘And Christian must have intended for him to find out. Otherwise he never would have given Magnus the manuscript.’

‘But why Magnus? Why not Kenneth or Erik?’

‘I think Christian was drawn back here to Fjällbacka, and to all three of the men,’ said Erica, thinking about what the psychiatrist Thorvald had said. ‘It may seem strange, and he probably couldn’t explain it himself. Then I think he may have actually grown to like Magnus. From everything I’ve heard about him, Magnus seems to have been a very nice person. He was also the one who participated against his will.’

‘How do you know that?’ asked Patrik, giving a start. ‘In the novel it just says that three boys were involved. But there aren’t a lot of details.’

‘I had a talk with Kenneth,’ said Erica calmly. ‘He told me everything about what happened on that night.’ Then she recounted Kenneth’s story, as Patrik’s face grew paler and paler.

‘Bloody hell. And they got away with it. Why didn’t the Lissanders ever report the rape? Why did they just leave Fjällbacka and then send Alice away?’

‘I don’t know. But I’m sure that Christian’s foster parents could answer those questions.’

‘So Erik, Kenneth, and Magnus raped Alice while Christian watched. Why didn’t he try to stop them? Why didn’t he help her? Is that why he got those threatening letters, even though he didn’t participate in the assault?’

Some of the colour had returned to Patrik’s face, and he took a deep breath before he went on:

‘Alice is the only one who had any reason to seek revenge, but she can’t be the one who did it. We also don’t know who’s to blame for this.’ He shoved a stack of papers over to Erica. ‘Here’s all the documentation from the investigation into the murders of Maria and Emil. They were drowned in their own bathtub. Someone held a one-year-old boy under the water until he stopped breathing, and then did the same thing with his mother. The only clue the police had was that a neighbour saw a woman with long dark hair leaving the flat. But as I said, it couldn’t have been Alice, and I don’t think it was Iréne either, even though she would also have a motive for doing such a thing. So who the hell was that woman?’ He pounded his fist on the table out of sheer frustration.

Erica waited for him to calm down. Then she said quietly:

‘I think I know. And I think I can prove it to you.’

Erik carefully brushed his teeth, put on his suit, and meticulously knotted his tie. Then he combed his hair and finished by ruffling it a bit with his fingers. He looked at himself in the mirror with satisfaction. He was a handsome and successful man who had his life under control.

He picked up his suitcase in one hand and his carry-on bag in the other. The plane ticket had been left for him at the front desk and was now securely stowed in his jacket pocket along with his passport. He took one last look in the mirror and then left the hotel room. He’d have time for a beer at the airport before boarding the plane. He could sit there in peace and quiet, watching all the Swedes rushing about, knowing that soon he would no longer have to deal with them. He’d never been especially fond of the Swedish temperament. Too much group thinking, too much talk about how everything had to be fair. Life wasn’t fair. Some people had better qualities than others. And in another country, he would have a good chance of taking advantage of those qualities.

He would soon be on his way. His fear of her was something that he pushed aside, burying it deep in his subconscious. Soon it wouldn’t matter. She would never be able to find him.

‘How do we get inside?’ asked Patrik as they stood at the door of the boathouse. Erica hadn’t wanted to say anything more about what she knew or suspected. She just insisted that he come with her.

‘I picked up the keys from Sanna,’ said Erica, taking a big key ring out of her purse.

Patrik smiled. Erica was nothing if not resourceful.

‘What are we looking for?’ he asked as he followed his wife into the small building.

She didn’t answer his question directly, but said, ‘This is the only place I could think of that Christian had all to himself.’

‘Doesn’t the boathouse belong to Sanna?’ Patrik asked, blinking his eyes to get used to the dim lighting.

‘On paper, yes. But this was where Christian always retreated in order to be alone and to write. I think he must have considered it his private refuge.’

‘And?’ said Patrik, sitting down on the narrow sofa next to the wall. He was so tired that his legs could barely hold him up any longer.

‘I don’t know.’ Erica looked around uncertainly. ‘I just thought that…’

‘What did you think?’ said Patrik. The boathouse wasn’t much of a hiding place, no matter what they were looking for. It consisted of two miniscule rooms, and the ceiling was so low that Patrik had to stoop. The place was filled with old fishing gear, and over by the window stood a worn drop-leaf table. Anyone who sat there would have a magnificent view of the Fjällbacka archipelago. And of Badholmen.