Mikael? Lasse’s son? That can’t be right …
The image of the happy family at home in Saltsj?baden that New Year’s Eve. Sofia sees Lasse drink a toast with Mikael.
Once you’d killed Lasse you picked up Mikael. Don’t you remember? The phone books you scattered across the floor to make it look like suicide? The rope was too short, that was it, wasn’t it?
Distantly Sofia hears Samuel emerge from the bathroom and hazily sees him sit down at the coffee table. He opens the bag of food and starts to eat as she sits there in silence and watches him.
Samuel gulps down the Coke.
‘Who ya talking to, lady?’ He shakes his head.
Sofia gets up and goes out into the hall. ‘Shut up and eat,’ she snarls at him, but he doesn’t react and she can’t work out if he heard her or not.
She sees her own face in the mirror above the dresser in the hall. It’s as if one side is paralysed. She doesn’t recognise herself. How old she looks.
‘What the hell?’ she mutters to the reflection, and takes a step closer and smiles, raising a finger to her mouth and touching the front tooth that broke when she tried to hang herself in a hotel room in Copenhagen twenty years ago.
Mimesis.
The relationship between what she sees and what she is is unquestionable.
Now she remembers everything.
Then her mobile rings again.
She looks at the screen.
10.22.
‘Bergman,’ she answers.
‘Victoria Bergman? Bengt Bergman’s daughter?’
She looks back into the living room. The sleeping pills have left Samuel knocked out on the sofa. His eyes are moving slowly even though he’s unconscious.
‘That’s right.’
My father is Bengt Bergman, Sofia Zetterlund thinks.
I am Victoria, Sofia, and everything in between.
A voice she seems to recognise asks her questions about her father and she answers mechanically, but when she hangs up she can’t remember any of what she said.
However, she is perfectly aware that she made a big mistake the time she called home to her mum and dad. They must have kept her number. And now, somehow, it’s ended up with the police.
The number can’t be traced, but she’s still going to have to get rid of the phone.
She clutches the phone and looks at Samuel. So much on his conscience, yet still so innocent, she thinks, then goes over to the bookcase and unfastens the catch holding it in place. As she opens the hidden door she is hit by the stale, fetid air.
Gao is sitting in one corner with his arms around his knees. He squints towards the light forcing its way in through the doorway. Everything is under control, and she goes out, rolls the bookcase back into place and begins to undress. After a quick shower she wraps a large, red towel around her and airs the apartment by opening all the windows for a few minutes. She lights an incense stick, pours a glass of wine and sits down on the sofa next to Samuel. His breathing is deep and regular, and she gently strokes his head.
Of all the terrible things he did as a child soldier in Sierra Leone, he is guilty of none, she thinks. He is a victim.
His intentions had been pure, unblemished by feelings like revenge or jealousy.
Feelings that have been her driving force.
The sun starts to go down, dusk falls outside the windows and the room is bathed in a grey gloom. Samuel moves, yawns and sits up. He looks at her and smiles his dazzling smile. She loosens her towel and moves so she’s sitting in front of him. His eyes move up her calves and in under the towel.
You have freedom of choice now, she thinks. Either you follow your instincts, or you resist.
Your choice.
She returns his smile.
‘What’s this?’ she says, pointing at his necklace. ‘Where did you get that?’
He lights up, takes off the necklace and holds it up in front of him.
‘Evidence of big stuff.’
She pretends to be impressed, and when she leans forward to inspect the necklace more closely she notices that he is looking at her breasts. ‘So, what did you do to deserve something as nice as that?’
Now she leans back and pulls the towel up a bit further so he can see that she isn’t wearing any underwear. He gulps and moves closer to her.
‘Killed a monkey.’
He smiles and puts his hand on her naked thigh.
Because his eyes are focused elsewhere, he doesn’t see her take out the hammer she had hidden under a cushion.
Can you be evil if you don’t feel guilt? she wonders, and brings the hammer down with full force on Samuel’s right eye.
Or are feelings of guilt a precondition for evil?
Kronoberg – Police Headquarters
SOFIA ZETTERLUND HANGS up and wonders what has happened.
Jeanette said she needed to talk, and it had sounded urgent. She had said some new facts had emerged in the Samuel Bai case.
What does Jeanette need to talk to her about, and could she have found something out?
Had someone seen her with Samuel?
Sofia goes into the living room and checks that the bookcase is in its place. Now there’s only Gao left in there, and he’s no problem.
Back in the hall she checks her make-up before picking up her handbag and heading down to the street. Folkungagatan, four blocks, then the metro. Far too short a walk to have time to think.
To change her mind.
She’s got used to Victoria’s voice, but the headache is still new and grates behind her forehead.
Her insecurity increases the closer she gets to police headquarters, but it’s as if Victoria is pushing her forward. Telling her what to do.
One foot at a time. One in front of the other. Repeat. Pedestrian crossing. Stop. Look left, then right, then left again.
Sofia Zetterlund tells the receptionist who she is and, after a brief security check, is allowed through to the lifts.
Open the door. Go straight ahead.
After a couple of minutes waiting she is fetched by a beaming Jeanette.
‘Great that you could come so quickly,’ she says when they are alone in the lift. ‘I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I was so pleased to have a reason to call you.’
Sofia feels uncertain. She doesn’t know how to react.
Inside her head two voices are competing for her attention. One is telling her to give Jeanette a hug and tell her who she really is. Give up, the voice says. Put an end to this. See the fact that you’ve met Jeanette as a sign.
No, no, no! Not yet. You can’t trust her. She’s like all the others, she’ll betray you as soon as you reveal your weakness.
‘There’s been a lot going on …’ Jeanette looks at Sofia. ‘We’re under pressure from all sides, and this business with Samuel is just getting weirder and weirder. But we can talk about that later. Coffee?’
They each get a cup from the machine, then head down a long corridor together until they reach the right door.
‘Well, this is me,’ Jeanette says.
The room is small, full of files and piles of paper. In the narrow window a dried-out plant is drooping next to a photograph of a man and a boy. Sofia realises they must be ?ke and Johan.