Åke Edwardson - Never End

"What's Magda going to do? Is she going to school?"

"If she wants to. She ended up deciding she did want to."

The boy sat up. There were posters on the wall over his bed, some heavy metal bands whose names Halders vaguely recognized.

"Do you think they've started the first lesson after lunch?"

"Not yet."

"Then I can go."

Halders drove the children to school, then went back to the house and did his tour again.

He called Winter.

"Did you see her?" he asked.

"Yes."

"How did it go?"

"How are you feeling, Fredrik?

"You're answering a question with a question."

"I wanted to know how it's going for you."

"Great."

"Stop it, for Christ's sake."

"OK, not great. But in the circumstances…"

"What are you doing?"

"Walking around the house. Around and around. It looks like I'll be moving back here. The kids want to stay."

"Walk around as many times as you like." Winter could hear Halders breathing. "Jeanette Bielke asked me to say hello."

"I'm coming in," said Halders.

"Take a few days off."

"No."

"Well, I can't force you."

"If I collapse at least it will be while I'm on the front line."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," said Winter.

"I've got something else you maybe would like to hear," said Halders. "Something occurred to me in connection with the murder of Angelika Hansson. Something we haven't talked about."

"Can't we discuss it now? Over the phone?"

"I'm coming in. It can wait for an hour."

"It will have to be this afternoon. I'm seeing the Wagners in half an hour."

"Did they ask for the meeting?"

"No, I did."

She had biked home and hung up her damp swimsuit on the line behind the house. Or in front of it, if you go in through the kitchen door. As she had.

It was quiet indoors. She had the evening to herself if she wanted to stay here. She could wander around with a beer or a glass of wine and smell the scents wafting in through the open windows when night fell. There was so much greenery outside that it was a joy to wander around the house, experiencing it.

She took a shower. The answering machine was blinking when she went back to her bedroom. She listened to the message, and immediately returned the call.

"I was in the shower."

"Hmm."

"Did you call earlier? Somebody called my mobile and didn't say anything."

"No."

"So… what's happening?"

"Can you come here tonight?"

"I don't know… I don't have the strength."

"Do you really mean that?"

"It's true. I feel really lazy."

"You can be lazy here too. Relatively lazy."

"It's on the other side of town."

"Take a taxi."

"Too expensive."

"I'll pay."

"No."

"I will, I promise."

"I didn't mean it like that. I feel like staying in tonight. Taking it easy."

"OK."

"You won't be angry?"

"You'll regret it."

"Are you angry?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"No."

"We could meet tomorrow maybe?"

"I can't, sorry."

"Oh."

"I'll call you."

It was raining when Winter leftthe police station. It was still hot, but the atmosphere was close, and he could feel sweat bead up on his brow, as well as rain in his hair. The grass next to the parking lot had turned greener after just a few minutes, and the air was heavy with the smell of it. This was the first rain for over a month.

Suddenly the sounds coming from the traffic on all sides were different. The swish of tires on wet asphalt. A softer sound.

The colors were clearer than when he'd last driven through the center of town. Not many people were wearing rain gear. Three young men naked from the waist up danced over the Allé when he stopped at a red light. One of them gave Winter a thumbs-up. He nodded through the windshield of his Mercedes.

He drove through the tunnel, then turned off and continued along minor roads until he pulled up outside the house. The rain had stopped by the time he got out of the car. There was no wind. His back felt sweaty despite the air conditioning.

The house looked as melancholy as it always did. It was more than two years since he was last here. They'd kept in touch. Birgersson as well, but the fact was that Winter had felt a… stronger need to stay in contact with Beatrice's parents. Maybe a duty, in addition to his professional reasons. Their daughter's murderer was still out there somewhere. They were prisoners of that crime for the rest of their lives, bound by the memory and the sorrow. Shut up forever inside the brick house that was so heavy and dark in the mist; the windows were black, the door closed, but it opened as Winter walked along the short path from the gate. Bengt Wägner came out, closing the door behind him, and shook hands with Winter.

"Lisen won't come out," Wägner said. "She's lying down. It all came back to her."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. It's no use trying to pretend it never happened," said Wägner. He took a few steps onto the lawn that had stopped growing in the heat wave. "It's best if Lisen confronts her grief. Otherwise it'll be worse. And worse still next time." He looked at Winter. "So, it's happened again."

"A girl called Angelika Hansson."

"In the same place…"

"Yes."

"Exactly the same place?"

"It seems so."

"And another girl has been attacked, too, is that right?"

"Yes."

"Also raped?"

Winter nodded again.

"No doubt there's more than one rapist running loose in town?"

"Depending on how you count them, there are several," Winter said.

"But there's one who's special," said Wägner.

"It's a hypothesis."

"Does it make sense to work on that basis?"

"I think so."

"What good does it do us?" Wägner gave a snort, almost like a dry little laugh. "What do we get out of it?"

Winter lit a Corps, exhaled, and watched the smoke mix with the air that was growing clearer now that the last of the dampness from the sky was sinking into the grass at their feet.

"If we can find a link it could help us. It could be of enormous help to us."

"How? What link could there be?"

Winter took another drag on his cigarillo. He'd offered one to Wägner, who'd accepted it, and who now lit up.

"Angelika Hansson's murderer could be the same one who murdered Beatrice. Neither you nor I can stop thinking about the fact that he's still on the loose. It's devastating for you, I know, but I can't forget it either."

"But what kind of a link do you expect to find by going through all that shit all over again?" said Wägner, puffing at the cigarillo and studying the smoke as it rapidly became invisible.

"If there's something in common, we'll find it," said Winter. "That's what's going to help us."

"But what could it be? That really means something?"

"It could be anything at all."

"You've read all the documents and reports and all the rest of it several times, Erik. Over and over again. Surely there can't be anything you've missed?"

"I haven't had anything to compare it with."

"No, I can see that. But there must be lots of things that can be… well, in common, without meaning anything at all. Obviously there are three girls about the same age. Maybe with the same interests, for all I know. The same hobbies, perhaps. The same favorite parts of town. Maybe… maybe they used to go to the same places. You said all three had just graduated. Good God, there's tons of things they have in common. There must be. How will you know what's important and what's not when you read it and compare?"

"I can only hope that I see it."

"Hope? Is that the best we can wish for?"