Camilla Läckberg - The Ice Princess

‘But I still don’t understand. Why would it be worse if he took his own life than if he was murdered?’

‘You’re too young to understand. The contempt for suicides still sits deep in people here in the coastal regions. I didn’t want people to talk like that about my little boy. They’ve talked enough rubbish about him over the years.’

There was a touch of steel in Vera’s voice. For all these years she had devoted herself to protecting and helping her son, and although Patrik still didn’t understand her motive, it was perhaps only natural that she continued to protect him even after his death.

Vera reached for the photo album on the table and opened it so that both she and Patrik could see. Judging by the clothing, the pictures must have been from the Seventies. Anders’s face smiled at him, open and carefree, from all the slightly yellowing photos.

‘He was certainly fine, my Anders.’

Vera’s voice was dreamy and she stroked a finger across the pictures.

‘He was always such a nice boy. There was never any problem with him.’

Patrik looked with interest at the pictures. It was unbelievable that this was the same person whom he had met only as a wreck. Lucky that the boy in the photos didn’t know what fate had awaited him. One of the pictures aroused his interest even more. A thin, blonde girl stood next to Anders, who was sitting on a bicycle with a banana seat and chopper handlebars. She showed just the hint of a smile as she peered out shyly from under her fringe.

‘This must be Alex, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’ Vera’s tone was curt.

‘Did they play much together when they were little?’

‘Not often. But sometimes, sure. They were in the same class, after all.’

Patrik cautiously entered a sensitive area. He mentally tested the water with his toes before each step he took.

‘I understood that they had Nils Lorentz as a teacher for a while?’

Vera gave him a searching look. ‘Yes, that’s possible. It was a long time ago.’

‘There was some talk about Nils Lorentz, from what I hear. Especially since he later simply disappeared.’

‘People talk about all sorts of things here in Fjällbacka. So they probably talked about Nils Lorentz as well.’

It was obvious that he was now poking at a festering wound, but he had to keep going and probe even deeper.

‘I spoke with Alex’s parents, who made certain claims about Nils Lorentz. Claims that also affected Anders.’

‘I see.’ She was obviously not going to make it easy for him.

‘According to them, Nils Lorentz sexually assaulted Alex, and they claimed that Anders was also abused.’

Vera sat ramrod stiff on the edge of the kitchen chair, and she didn’t reply to Patrik’s statement, which he had intended as a question. He decided to wait her out, and after a moment of internal struggle she slowly closed the photo album and got up from her chair.

‘I don’t want to talk about ancient history. I want you to go now. If you want to charge me for what I did when I found Anders, then you know where to find me. But I don’t intend to help you root about in things that would best be left buried.’

‘Just one question: did you ever talk to Alexandra about this? From what I understood she had decided to deal with what happened, and it would have been natural for her to speak with you as well.’

‘Yes, she did. I sat there in her house about a week before she died, listening to her naive ideas about coming to terms with the past, taking all the old skeletons out of the closet, and so on and so forth. Modern drivel in my opinion. Today, everyone seems obsessed with washing their dirty linen in public, claiming it’s so healthy to reveal all their secrets and sins. But some things should remain private. I told her that as well. I don’t know whether she listened to me, but I hope so. Otherwise, I only had a stubborn bladder inflammation to show for the trouble of sitting there in her freezing house.’

And with that Vera signalled that the discussion was over and walked towards the front door. She opened it for Patrik and said a very guarded farewell.

When he found himself standing out in the cold again with his cap pulled down over his ears and his mittens on, he literally didn’t know which foot to stand on. He hopped a few times to warm himself up and then headed briskly for his car.

Vera was a complicated woman, he had gathered that much from their conversation. She belonged to a completely different generation, but in many ways she was in conflict with that generation’s values. During her son’s childhood she had supported him by her own labour, and even after he reached adulthood and should have taken care of himself, she continued to keep him under her wing. In her way, she was a liberated woman who over all those years had got along without a man. At the same time, she was bound by the rules that existed for women, and men for that matter, from her generation. He couldn’t help feeling a certain reluctant admiration for her. She was a strong woman. A complex woman, who had endured more than any person should have to endure in a lifetime.

He didn’t know what the consequences might be for Vera when it came out that she had interfered to make Anders’s suicide look like a murder. He would definitely need to turn in that information to the police station, but he had no idea what would happen after that. If it were his decision, he would choose to look through his fingers, but he couldn’t promise that’s what would occur. From a purely legal point of view it was possible to charge her with obstructing an investigation, for example, but he sincerely hoped that wouldn’t happen. He liked Vera, he couldn’t get away from that. She was a fighter, and there weren’t many like her.

When he got into his car and flipped open his mobile, he discovered a message waiting for him. It was from Erica. She reported that there were three ladies and a very, very small gentleman who hoped he would have dinner with them this evening. Patrik glanced at the clock. It was already five, so he decided without great internal debate that it was probably already too late to go to the station. And what did he have at home to do? Before he started the car he rang Annika at the station and gave her a brief report on what he’d accomplished, but he left out the details since he wanted to report on the whole situation when he had Mellberg face to face. He wanted at all costs to prevent the situation from being misinterpreted, and to prevent Mellberg from mobilizing some enormous operation simply for his own amusement.

As Patrik drove back to Erica’s house, the thoughts of Alex’s murder kept returning. It frustrated him that he had run into yet another blind alley. Two murders meant twice the chance that the killer had made a mistake. Now he was back at the beginning once more, and for the first time he thought he might never find the person who had murdered Alex. That made him strangely sad. It felt somehow that he knew Alex better than anyone else did. What he’d found out about her childhood and life after the assaults had moved him deeply. He wanted to find her killer more than he’d ever wanted anything in his whole life.

But he had to accept the situation. He had now reached another blind alley, and he didn’t know where he should go from here, or where to look. Patrik forced himself to let it go for the time being. Right now he was going over to see Erica, her sister, and especially the kids, and that was exactly what he needed this evening. All this misery had made him feel frayed inside.

Mellberg drummed impatiently with his fingers on the desktop. Where the hell was that young whippersnapper? Did he think this was some sort of damned day-care? That he could come and go as he liked? Of course it was Sunday, but anyone who thought he could take a day off before this was all over was seriously mistaken. Well, he would soon disabuse him of that notion. At his station, it was strict regulations and clear discipline that counted. Good honest leadership. It was the watchword of the times, and if anyone had ever been born with leadership qualities, then he was the one. His mother had always said that he would make something great out of himself. Even if he had to admit that it may have been taking a bit longer than either of them had expected, he had never doubted that his excellent qualifications would pay off sooner or later.