Camilla Läckberg - The Ice Princess

Even though he instinctively took a dislike to Svea Berg, he instantly liked her husband when he encountered a pair of lively, clear-blue eyes above a firm handshake. He could feel the calluses on Eilert’s hand and knew that this was a man who had worked hard his whole life.

The sofa cover looked wrinkled when Eilert got up, and with a deep frown Svea was there to smooth it out with a reproachful glance at her husband. The whole house was squeaky clean, without a wrinkle, and it was hard to believe that anyone actually lived in the place. Patrik felt sorry for Eilert. He looked lost in his own home.

The effect turned almost comical when Svea quickly alternated between the ingratiating smile when she was facing Patrik to the reproachful grimace when she turned to her husband. Patrik wondered what it was her husband had done to bring on such disapproval. He suspected that Eilert’s mere presence was a source of vexation for Svea.

‘Well, Constable, take a seat and have some coffee and cakes.’

Patrik sat down obediently on the chair facing the window, and Eilert made a move to sit on the chair across from him.

‘Not there, Eilert, you know that. Sit over there.’

Svea pointed dictatorially to the chair at the head of the table, and Eilert obeyed politely. Patrik looked around as Svea dashed about like a lost soul, pouring coffee as she simultaneously smoothed out invisible wrinkles in the tablecloth and curtains. The home had apparently been decorated by someone who wanted to give the appearance of a prosperity that did not exist. Everything was a bad copy of the real thing, from the curtains that were supposed to look like silk with plenty of flounces and rosettes in a ‘progressive’ design to the plethora of knick-knacks made of silver plate and imitation gold. Eilert looked like a fish out of water in all this simulated pomp.

To Patrik’s frustration, it took a while before he could get on to his actual business. Svea babbled incessantly as she slurped loudly from her coffee cup.

‘This coffee service, you understand, was sent to me by my sister in America. She married a wealthy man there and she’s always sending me such fine presents. It’s very expensive, this service.’

She raised her elegantly decorated coffee cup with great ostentation. Patrik was rather sceptical of the value of the service, but wisely chose not to comment.

‘Yes, I would have gone to America as well, if I weren’t always in such delicate health. If it hadn’t been for that, I probably would have married a rich man there too, instead of sitting in this hovel for fifty years.’

Svea cast an accusatory eye at Eilert, who calmly let the comment pass. It was undoubtedly a tune he’d heard many times before.

‘It’s gout, the constable should know. My joints are all used up, and I’m in pain from morning till night. It’s lucky I’m not the type to complain. With my terrible migraines as well, there would be plenty to complain about, but it’s not in my nature to complain, you understand. No, one must bear one’s afflictions with equanimity, as they say. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard, “How strong you are, Svea, going on day in and day out with your infirmities.” But that’s the way I am.’

She modestly lowered her eyelids as she made a great show of wringing her hands, which in Patrik’s layman’s eyes looked anything but gout-ridden. What a damned harpy, he thought. Painted and dolled up with far too much cheap jewellery and a thick layer of make-up. The only positive thing he could say about her appearance was that at least it matched the decor. How on earth could such a mismatched couple as Eilert and Svea have stayed married for fifty years? But he assumed it was a generational thing. Their generation got divorced only for considerably worse reasons than mutual differences, But it was a shame. Eilert couldn’t have had much fun in his life.

Patrik cleared his throat to interrupt Svea’s torrent of words. She obediently fell silent, and her eyes hung on his lips to hear what exciting news he might come out with. The gossip grapevine was going to start up as soon as he stepped out the door.

‘Well, I have a few questions about the days before you found Alexandra Wijkner’s body. When you were there looking after the house.’

He stopped and looked at Eilert, waiting to hear what he would say. But Svea began first.

‘Yes, I do declare. That something like that would happen here. And that my Eilert would discover the body. No one has talked about anything else the past few weeks.’

Her cheeks were glowing with excitement, and Patrik had to restrain himself from offering a sharp comment. Instead he gave a sly smile and said, ‘If you’ll forgive me, I wonder if it would be possible for me and your husband to speak undisturbed for a while. It’s standard protocol in the police that we only take testimony when persons not directly concerned are not present.’

A pure lie, but he saw to his satisfaction that Svea, despite her great annoyance at being excluded from the centre of all the excitement, accepted his authority in the matter and reluctantly got up from the table. Patrik was rewarded at once with an appreciative and amused glance from Eilert, who could hardly conceal his glee at seeing Svea so ignominiously robbed of her gossip tidbits.

When she had reluctantly dragged herself out of the kitchen, Patrik went on, ‘Now where were we? Yes, you were going to start by telling me about the week before, when you were at Alexandra Wijkner’s house.’

‘Why is that important?’

‘I’m not sure just yet. But it could be important. So try to remember as many details as possible.’

Eilert thought for a moment, using the time to stuff his pipe carefully from a packet of tobacco marked with three anchors. He didn’t speak until he had lit the pipe and puffed a couple of times.

‘Now let’s see. I found her on a Friday. I always used to go there on Fridays to check on everything before she arrived in the evening. So the last time I was there was the Friday before that. No, actually, we had to go to our youngest son’s fortieth birthday party on Friday, so I went there on Thursday evening instead.’

‘How was the house then? Did you notice anything unusual?’ Patrik had a hard time concealing his eagerness.

‘Anything unusual?’ Eilert puffed slowly on his pipe as he thought. ‘No, everything was fine. I did a round through the house and the cellar, but everything looked good. I locked the house carefully when I left, as always. She’d given me my own key.’

Patrik felt compelled to ask straight out the question that was gnawing inside him. ‘And the furnace? Was it working? Was there heat in the house?’

‘Oh yes, certainly. There was nothing wrong with the furnace then. It must have gone out some time after I was there. I don’t understand what importance that has. When the furnace went out?’ Eilert temporarily took the pipe out of his mouth.

‘To be quite honest, I don’t know if it is important. But thank you for your help. It might be important.’

‘Just out of curiosity, why couldn’t you have asked me that on the phone?’

Patrik smiled. ‘I suppose I’m a bit old-fashioned. I don’t think I get as much out of phoning as by talking with someone face to face. Sometimes I wonder if I should have been born a hundred years ago instead, before all these modern inventions.’

‘Nonsense, boy. Don’t believe all that rubbish that it was better in the old days. Being cold, poor, and working from eight o’clock till sunset is nothing to envy. No, I use all the modern conveniences I can. I even have a computer, hooked up to the Internet. I’ll bet you wouldn’t believe that of an old man like me.’ He pointed knowingly at Patrik with his pipe.