‘I don’t understand –’
‘What don’t you understand? Everything suggests that Karl Lundstr?m is the culprit. He’s still in a coma, and even if he does wake up it won’t be possible to prosecute him. According to his doctors he’s suffered extensive brain damage. He’s going to be a vegetable. And as far as the victims are concerned, well, two of these unidentified … yes, how can I put it?’ He searches for the right phrase.
‘“Children”, perhaps?’ Jeanette suggests, feeling that she hasn’t got the energy to hold back her pent-up anger.
‘Perhaps not that. But if they hadn’t been here illegally, then –’
‘– the situation would have been different,’ Jeanette finishes, before going on: ‘And then we’d have put fifty detectives on the case instead of what we’ve got. Me and Hurtig, with a bit of help from Schwarz and ?hlund. Is that what you mean?’
‘Come on, Jan, don’t be like that. What are you implying?’
‘I’m not implying anything, but I understand that you’re calling to tell me the case is being dropped. What do we do about Samuel Bai? Even von Kwist must realise that Lundstr?m couldn’t possibly have killed him.’
Billing takes a deep breath. ‘You haven’t got any suspects!’ he roars down the line. ‘There isn’t a single line of inquiry pointing in any direction at all! It might well involve organised human trafficking, and how the hell do you think we’re going to tackle that?’
‘I understand,’ Jeanette says with a sigh. ‘So you mean we have to pack up everything we’ve got and send it to von Kwist?’
‘Exactly,’ Billing replies.
Jeanette goes on. ‘And von Kwist reads our files and then closes the case because there aren’t any suspects.’
‘That’s right. See, you can do it if you try.’ The commissioner laughs. ‘And then you and Jens have some holiday. And everyone’s happy. Is that agreed, then? The investigation and your application for leave on my desk around lunchtime tomorrow?’
‘Agreed,’ Jeanette replies, and hangs up.
She decides it makes sense to inform Hurtig about the new directive and goes into his office.
‘I’ve just heard that we’ve got to bring our work to a close.’
Hurtig looks first surprised, then leans forward and throws his hands out. He now looks mostly disappointed. ‘But that’s fucking ridiculous.’
Jeanette sits down heavily and feels very tired. It seems like her body is spilling off the chair and onto the floor.
‘Is it really?’ she asks. She feels she hasn’t got the energy to play devil’s advocate, but knows it’s her duty as his superior to defend their bosses’ decision.
‘After all, nothing much has happened so far. No decent lines of inquiry. And it’s entirely possible that we’re dealing with human trafficking, just as Billing says, and that’s out of our jurisdiction.’
Hurtig shakes his head.
‘What about Karl Lundstr?m, then?’
‘He’s in a coma, for heaven’s sake. He’s hardly any good to us!’
‘You’re a poor liar, Jan! It’s obvious that a paedophile –’
‘That’s just how it is. I can’t do anything about it.’
Hurtig looks up at the ceiling. ‘A murderer gets away with it and we’re left sitting here with our hands tied by some bastard lawyer. All because we’re dealing with boys that no one’s missed! It’s completely fucked up! And what about that Bergman guy? Aren’t we going to bother trying to talk to his daughter? She seemed to have a lot to say, didn’t she?’
‘No, Jens. That’s out of the question, and you know it. I think the best thing we can do right now is drop it. At least for the time being.’
She only calls him Jens when he’s annoying her. But her frustration subsides when she sees how disappointed he is. After all, they have worked on this together, and he’s been just as engaged in the case as she’s been.
Now she’s going to go home and fall asleep on the sofa.
‘I’m going now,’ she says. ‘I’ve got some leave to use up.’
‘Sure, whatever.’ Hurtig turns away.
Gamla Enskede – Kihlberg House
EVERYTHING HAPPENS AUTOMATICALLY. She’s been through every part of it thousands of times before.
She passes the Globe. Right at the rotary by the S?dermalm bakery. Enskedev?gen. Everything feels routine, and as Jeanette turns into the drive in front of the garage she almost collides with Alexandra Kowalska’s red sports car, for the third time in a matter of weeks. Just like the first time, the car is parked askew in front of the garage and Jeanette has to brake hard.
‘Fuck!’ she yells as the seat belt cuts into her shoulder. She reverses angrily, parks next to the hedge, gets out and slams the driver’s door.
The summer evening in Enskede reeks of burnt meat, and she is confronted with the smell of a hundred barbecues. The sweet, heavy smells spread across the neighbourhood, into the garden, and Jeanette thinks it smells of happy families and good company. Having a barbecue presupposes company: it’s not the sort of thing you do alone.
The fragile silence is broken by her neighbours’ voices, laughter and excited shouts from the football pitch. She thinks about Sofia and wonders what she’s doing.
Jeanette goes up the steps to the house. Just as she’s about to open it the handle is pushed down from inside and she has to jump out of the way to avoid being hit by the door.
‘So long, handsome.’ Alexandra Kowalska is facing away from her in the doorway as she waves to ?ke, who is smiling back at her from the hall.
His smile dies when he catches sight of Jeanette.
Alexandra turns round. ‘Oh, hi,’ she says, with a breezy smile. ‘I was just leaving.’
Fucking witch, Jeanette thinks as she walks in without replying.
She shuts the door and hangs up her jacket. Handsome?
She goes into the kitchen, where ?ke’s standing at the window, waving. He looks at her warily as she tosses her bag on the kitchen table.
‘Sit down,’ she says sharply as she opens the fridge door. ‘Handsome?’ she goes on, then snorts. ‘OK, time for an explanation. What the fuck’s going on here?’ Jeanette makes an effort not to raise her voice, but can feel her anger vibrating inside her.
‘What do you mean? What is it you want me to explain?’
She decides to get straight to the point. She mustn’t let herself be fooled by his puppy-dog eyes, which always come out at moments like this.
‘Tell me why you didn’t come home last night, and why you didn’t even call.’ She looks at him. Predictably, the puppy-dog eyes are in place.
He tries to smile but fails. ‘I … well, I mean we. We were out. Operak?llaren. There were quite a few drinks …’
‘And?’
‘Well, I spent the night in the city and Alexandra gave me a lift home.’ ?ke turns his head away and looks out through the window.
‘Why are you looking so sheepish? Are you sleeping with her?’