“Okay, okay. First I want to know what this entails before I decide if I want to help you or not.”
Jana hesitated.
“I promise I’ll keep quiet about everything you tell me.”
He sounded convincing and for the time being Jana didn’t have anyone else to turn to. She had to trust him.
So she told him.
*
It took more than an hour to describe all the intricate details in the investigation. She told about Hans Juhlén, about the boy with the name carved on his neck who had been found dead out by the coast at Viddviken. She told about Thomas Rydberg but left out the detail that it was her who had killed him.
When she came to explaining the salvaging of the containers, Danilo became pale in the face.
“Oh, fuck,” he said.
“In one of the containers I found a mirror. I think it belonged to me. Now you must tell me—have I been in there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Please, tell me if I’ve been there.”
“You haven’t. Get it!”
“I just want to know who I am. You are the only person who can help me. Tell me who I am!”
Danilo got up. His face had become dark.
“No.”
“No?”
“You’re welcome to dig into the past, but I don’t want to do it.”
“I don’t usually ask for favors, but please, help me.”
“No. NO!”
Danilo looked out through the window.
“Please!”
“No!” Danilo turned quickly toward Jana. “Never. I’m not going to do it. Get out of here now!”
He pulled her up from the mattress. She fought her way free.
“Don’t touch me!”
“Never come here again!”
“I won’t. I can promise you that.”
“Good. Get out!”
She remained standing where she was. Looked at Danilo a last time before leaving the flat. She cursed herself. For having told him everything. Having opened up. She should never have done it.
Never.
*
Henrik Levin looked at the clock. 15:55. Five minutes to go before the interview with Lena Wikstr?m was to begin.
Jana Berzelius was late. She had never been late before.
Henrik scratched his head and wondered how he should handle the questioning without her by his side.
Mia Bolander noticed his worry.
“She’s bound to turn up,” she said.
That same moment, Peter Ramstedt came in.
“Oh I see,” he said. “So the prosecutor doesn’t want to join the interview in time? That is rather problematic.”
He laughed aloud.
Henrik sighed and looked at the clock again. One minute left. He was just about to close the door to the little room when he heard quick steps in the corridor.
Jana Berzelius ran across the stone floor. She had a large plaster on her brow.
“You’re late,” said Mia triumphantly when Jana reached them.
“No, I don’t think so. You can’t be late to something that hasn’t even started,” said Jana and slammed the door right under Mia’s nose.
*
The interview had gone on for two hours.
Now Henrik Levin knocked lightly on Gunnar ?hrn’s office door.
“Nothing,” he said.
“Nothing?” Gunnar repeated.
“She refuses to say who gave her the order to delete the file with the container combinations, or what the text she got from Thomas Rydberg means.”
“And what does she say about the containers?”
“She says that she doesn’t know anything about them either.”
“But that’s not true. I mean she knew where we could find them.”
“I know.”
“So what do we have?”
“She won’t admit to anything and I can’t actually see what we can prove.”
Gunnar sighed loudly and breathed in through his nose.
“Time to go home,” said Gunnar.
“I will. What about you?”
“I’m going to finish soon too.”
“Plans for the evening?”
“I’m having company. Female company.”
Henrik whistled.
“No, not that sort. It’s only Anneli who’s going to fetch a carton with some stuff in it. And you?”
“Thought I’d surprise the family with dinner.”
“Exciting.”
“I don’t know whether McDonald’s is so exciting.”
Gunnar gave a little laugh.
“See you tomorrow,” said Henrik and walked with light steps toward the lift.
*
When Jana Berzelius sat down at the table for two at the local restaurant, The Colander, she was already irritated by her colleague Per ?str?m. For more than twenty minutes he had talked nonstop about his results in a tennis tournament that had been arranged the weekend before. His company had never bothered her earlier, but now she had to struggle not to open her mouth and tell him to close his!
Jana had long since realized that she didn’t feel comfortable in social relationships and she had organized a life for herself as a hermit. She was satisfied with that. Of course, her work demanded a whole lot of social interaction with people but they were always superficial contacts and that was something that suited her perfectly. And besides, it was arduous and time-consuming to get to know another person. And she hated it too when people got nosy about her private life, and asked questions that she didn’t want to answer. Per ?str?m often got on her nerves with his questions, but for some strange reason he hadn’t given up like all the others when Jana had declared that she wanted to be left in peace. On the contrary, he had liked her cold attitude and over the years had learned to interpret her vague looks.
Per fidgeted with his wineglass.
“What’s the matter?”
“What do you mean?”
“What’s the matter, I can see there’s something.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Has something happened?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I feel fine.”
She met his gaze. It felt strange to lie to him. She had nobody else she could have a conversation with, and she would very much have liked to tell him everything. But how would he react if she said she had murdered Thomas Rydberg? What would he say when she admitted to having sought out an old friend whom she thought was dead but who was very much alive? And how could he even begin to understand when she explained that she would do anything to find out about her background? Her hidden background? There was no point in saying anything. Not to anybody.
“Is it something you need help with?”
Jana didn’t know what she should say. Instead she got up and left the restaurant without saying goodbye.
She walked down Kvarngatan, cut across Holmen Square and then the market square at Kn?ppingsborg. Inside her apartment, she took off her coat, pulled off the high-heeled boots and went into the bedroom where she immediately took off her trousers. When her sweater was over her head she heard her cell ringing. She went into the hall only wearing silk underwear. She looked at the display.
Hidden number.
It must be Per. He always used a hidden number to prevent clients from getting the idea of ringing to his private telephone.
She answered.
“I don’t want to know how tasty the food was,” she said.
There was silence at the other end.
“Hello?”
She was just about to end the call when she heard a voice which said: “I’ll help you.”
The hairs on her neck stood up.
She recognized the voice.
It belonged to Danilo.
“Meet me in the town park in Norrk?ping tomorrow. At two o’clock,” he said.
*
Gunnar ?hrn freed himself from Anneli Lindgren’s arm.
They were sitting on the dark brown leather sofa in the living room, each with a glass of wine. The room was lit low with a 3-way lamp in one corner. One wall had bookcases and a liquor cabinet. A few paintings waiting to be hung were leaning against another wall. Two wine bottles stood on a glass table. Both were empty.
“This isn’t a good idea,” said Gunnar.
“What?” said Anneli.
“What you’re trying to do.”
“It was you who said I should come over.”
“To pick up the carton, yes. Not...”
“What?”
Anneli put a hand on Gunnar’s leg.
“Don’t do that.”
Anneli moved closer and gave him a light kiss on his throat.
“That’s better.”
Anneli slowly unbuttoned her blouse.
“That’s actually rather nice.”
“And this?”
She took her blouse off, and climbed astride him.
“That is really nice,” said Gunnar and suddenly pulled Anneli toward him.
CHAPTER
FORTY-SEVEN