Åke Edwardson - Never End

"We need to know everything about her friends," he said. "Everything you can remember, about all of them."

"This business of her… pregnancy. Does that have anything to do with the murder?" asked the father, fixing Winter with piercing eyes.

"I don't know," he said.

"Then why the hell are you asking so much about it?"

"Lasse," his wife said.

He turned to look at her.

"He's only doing his job," she said, and Winter suddenly had the impression she looked stronger. "We want to know, after all."

I'm only doing my job, Winter thought.

Halders drove back to the Bielkes's house. He was on his own, and had called ahead. He parked the car and crunched over the gravel. Jeanette was on the verandah. Halders wondered what she was thinking about. She glanced up and saw him approaching. Looked as if she were about to throw up. Halders had reached her by then.

"Let's get out of here," he said.

She didn't move.

'Would you like to head over to Saltholmen?"

She shrugged. Irma Bielke came onto the verandah and looked at her daughter.

"We're going out for a little drive," said Halders, but she didn't seem to hear him. They're all still in shock, he thought. The idyll has been blown away and reality has taken its place, even in this posh neighborhood.

Jeanette got into the car, which had warmed up in the sun. Halders started the engine. As he changed gear he accidentally brushed her left knee, and she jerked away. He pretended not to notice, and headed down the drive and out into the road.

"Do you have a favorite spot out here?" he asked as they approached the rocks and jetties.

"Yes…"

"Shall we go and sit there?"

She shrugged.

There were cars everywhere. Halders parked illegally opposite the ice cream stall and stuck his police pass on the windshield. Lots of people were streaming past, either going down to the boats or coming back from them. A child was screaming, being dragged along by its parents. Two girls about the same age as Jeanette smiled, maybe at him, maybe at her.

"You'll have to show me the way," he said. "How about an ice cream, by the way?"

She shrugged.

"Every time you shrug I'll interpret it as a 'yes,'" Halders said.

She smiled.

"Old-fashioned vanilla," she said. "And tutti-frutti."

The ice cream had started running down Halders's fingers as they walked to the rocks. He licked at his cone as quickly as he could. She had gotten a cup.

They climbed up to the top of the slope and down the other side. There was a clear view of the sea. Sails everywhere. The wind carried a strong smell of hot salt. There were fewer people on the rocks than he'd expected. Nobody was lying in her favorite spot.

"Here it is," she said.

They sat down. She looked out over a narrow channel leading to the harbor. A boy was diving on the other side.

"I was here the same day," she said.

Halders nodded.

"It's unreal," she said, looking at Halders. "It's like… another time, sort of. A different country, or something." She turned back to look at the water. "It's as if it had never happened. Like a dream, you know?" She looked at Halders again. What is dream and what is reality, he wondered.

"I couldn't tell you what's a dream and what's reality," she said. "I wish T knew what was what… which of the two what happened to me is… but that's not the way things are, of course." Halders noticed her benumbed expression, full of worry. There was something closed in that face of hers. She's been extinguished, he thought. Something has been extinguished. I could kill that bastard. I really could. No. That's not the answer. They wouldn't be able to rehabilitate him into society if I did that.

"So you don't know Angelika Hansson?"

"No, I've already told you."

"Met her, maybe?"

She had seen photos of Angelika. Halders had one in his breast pocket, but he didn't get it out.

"She'd just passed her final exams as well," he said.

"Are you saying that means we must know each other?"

"Don't you have a communal party?"

"Are you serious? Do you know how many people in Gothenburg graduate every year?"

"No."

"Neither do I. But way too many for there to be just one party." She was looking at Halders now. "It's called a ball, incidentally. Graduation ball."

Somebody dived into the water on the other side of the channel again. Several people tramped past on the rocks above them.

"What happened between you and your boyfriend?"

"That has nothing to do with this."

"Tell me anyway."

"What if I don't want to?"

Halders shrugged. It was his turn now.

He watched a boat moving along the channel, toward the sea. A man onboard waved, but she didn't wave back. "We broke up, simple as that," she said.

Halders noticed that the man on the boat was still waving, and waved back to put an end to it.

He didn't think so, though, did he?" he asked.

"I don't follow."

"He wouldn't accept that it was all over, would he?"

"Who told you that?"

Halders didn't reply.

"Don't believe them," she said.

"Believe who?"

"Mom and Dad, of course. They're the ones who told you, aren't they? They said there was a fight, I bet. That was it, wasn't it?"

Halders said nothing.

"They never liked him," she said.

"But it's all over now?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"It's over, for Christ's sake. For Christ's sake!" She looked him straight in the eye. "Has it never happened to you?"

"Yes."

"Have you had to explain how? And why and where? And to a detective?"

"No."

"Well, then."

"You know why I'm asking," he said. He could feel the sun on his bald spot. He'd have to buy a hat, an ordinary hat. Not one of those damn baseball caps. "He showed up at your house a few times and wanted to come in, didn't he?"

"Maybe the odd time. The odd evening."

"He was a little… noisy. Wanted to come in and talk to you."

"He was drunk," she said.

"Why?"

"Oh, for God's sake!"

"Why?" Halders insisted.

She heaved a sigh.

"He was upset," she said.

"Because it was over?"

She shrugged. A yes.

"But you wanted it to be over?"

She nodded.

There's something she doesn't want to tell me. Something important. What is it?

"And he couldn't understand that," Halders said. "That you wanted to break up."

"Can't we stop talking about Mattias now? Why are we talking about him all the time?"

"Have you seen him… since?"

"Since I was raped?"

"Yes."

"Say it then. Raped. Raped!"

Halders could see a woman on the next rock stumble.

"Since you were raped," Halders said.

"No, I haven't. Have you?"

"No."

"You should. I mean, you talk about him all the time."

"I am going to meet Mattias. Tomorrow."

"A waste of time," she said. "It wasn't him, if that's what you think."

Winter read the files. Had it started again with Jeanette Bielke? Continued with Angelika Hansson? Would it keep on going?

He had the familiar feeling of impotence. Speculations about crimes that had been committed. About crimes waiting to be committed. Waiting to be committed.

But something was different. He thought the same person who had raped Jeanette Bielke had murdered Angelika Hansson. Sometimes it was more than just knowing.

Another crime was waiting to be committed, and on his desk in front of him was the result of what had happened so far. He'd dug out all the old material on Beatrice Wägner. The uncomfortable feeling of yet again coming up against an appalling crime. Like a meeting in the dark. The fresh memory of her father's voice, no more than a few months ago. They'd kept in touch over the years. Winter didn't know for whose sake.