Dark Secrets Page 18

  “Send me a text to let me know how I can get hold of your boyfriend, and we won’t talk about it now.” Lisa nodded, grabbed the card, and just managed to slip it into her pocket. Her father came in first.

  “What are you doing here?” The pleasant tone of voice from the hallway was gone.

  Vanja stood up and faced him with a smile that was rather too cheerful. A smile that made him realize he was too late. Vanja was satisfied. Erik did his best to reestablish his authority.

  “I thought we had agreed that you were not to speak to my daughter unless I was present. This is completely unacceptable!”

  “It’s not up to you to make that decision, and in any case we just wanted to check a couple of details with Lisa. We’re leaving now.” Vanja turned and smiled at Lisa, who didn’t notice because her gaze was fixed on the table. Sebastian got up. Vanja headed for the door, passing Lisa’s parents on the way.

  “I don’t think we’ll need to disturb you again.” Erik looked from Vanja to his daughter, and back to Vanja again. For a few seconds he didn’t know what to say, but then he trotted out the only viable threat he could come up with.

  “I will be contacting your superior officer, make no mistake. You won’t get away with this.” Vanja couldn’t even bring herself to respond; she just carried on toward the door. She had what she came for. Then suddenly she heard Sebastian’s voice behind her. It sounded particularly powerful, as if he had been waiting a long time for this moment.

  “There is one thing you ought to know,” he said as he pushed his chair toward the table with an almost exaggerated movement. “Your daughter has been lying to you.”

  What the fuck is he doing! Vanja turned around in shock and flashed Sebastian a dirty look. For Sebastian to be a pig in his dealings with colleagues and other adults was one thing, but to betray a child! For no reason. Lisa looked as if she wanted to slide under the table and disappear. Her father said nothing. Everyone was staring at the man who had become the kitchen’s focus.

  It was moments like this that Sebastian Bergman had missed the most during his self-imposed absence. He took his time; it was important to make the most of the magic. It didn’t come that often these days.

  “Roger left much earlier on that Friday than Lisa was prepared to admit initially.”

  Lisa’s parents looked at each other, and her mother broke the silence.

  “Our daughter does not lie.”

  Sebastian took a couple of steps toward them.

  “Yes, she does.” He had no intention of letting the real liars get away. Not now, when he had them on the hook. “But the question you should be asking is why she lies. Perhaps there’s a reason she daren’t tell you the truth.”

  Sebastian fell silent and stared at the parents. The spotless kitchen was heavy with anxiety about what was to come. What he was going to say next. Vanja’s brain was working overtime. How could she get a foothold in the quicksand in which she suddenly found herself? The only thing she could come up with was a faint plea.

  “Sebastian…”

  Sebastian didn’t even register her presence. He dominated the room, holding the life of a sixteen-year-old girl in his hands. Why should he listen to anyone else?

  “Lisa and Roger had a quarrel that evening. He left at eight. They quarreled and he died. How do you think that makes her feel? If they hadn’t quarreled, he would still be alive today. It was her fault that he left early. That’s a huge burden of guilt for a young girl to carry.”

  “Is this true, Lisa?” Her mother’s voice was pleading, and her eyes had begun to fill with tears. Lisa looked at her parents as if she had just woken from a dream and didn’t really know what was true or false anymore. Sebastian winked at her discreetly. He was enjoying himself.

  “What Lisa did wasn’t really lying. It’s more of a defense mechanism, something that enabled her to carry on, to cope with the guilt. That’s why I’m telling you,” said Sebastian, adopting a serious expression as he looked at Lisa’s parents. Then he lowered his voice in order to further stress the gravity of the situation. “It’s important now for Lisa to realize she’s done nothing wrong.”

  “Of course you haven’t, sweetheart.” Daddy Erik this time. He moved over to his daughter and put his arm around her. Lisa looked surprised more than anything. The transition from being exposed as a liar to being enveloped in love and concern had been somewhat rapid.

  “Oh, poppet, why didn’t you say anything?” her mother began, but she didn’t get far before Sebastian interrupted.

  “Because she didn’t want to disappoint you. Don’t you understand? She feels an enormous burden of guilt. Guilt and grief. And all you’ve talked about is whether she was lying or not. Don’t you realize how lonely that made her feel?”

  “But we didn’t know… We believed her.”

  “You chose to believe what suited you. No more and no less. But that’s understandable. It’s human. However, your daughter needs love and consideration now. She must feel that you trust her.”

  “But of course we do.”

  “Not enough. Give her love, but give her freedom too. That’s what she needs now. Lots of trust and freedom.”

  “Of course. Thank you. We didn’t know. I’m sorry if we overreacted, but I hope you understand,” said Lisa’s mother.

  “Of course. We all want to protect our children. From everything. Otherwise we wouldn’t be parents.”

  Sebastian’s face broke into a warm smile directed at Lisa’s mother. She reciprocated gratefully, with a little nod. How true that was.

  Sebastian turned to Vanja, who had gone from fury to confusion.

  “Shall we make a move?”

  Vanja tried to nod as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  “Absolutely. We won’t disturb you any longer.” She and Sebastian threw a final smile at the parents.

  “Now, just remember, you have a wonderful daughter. Give her plenty of love and freedom. She needs to know that you trust her.”

  With those words, they left. Sebastian was bubbling over with joy at having planted a little time bomb in the middle of the Hanssons’ family life. Freedom was exactly what Lisa needed in order to blow the whole shit heap sky high even more quickly. The sooner the better.

  “Was that really necessary?” Vanja wondered as they opened the gate.

  “It was fun. Isn’t that enough?” Sebastian turned to Vanja, whose expression made it clear that the entertainment value didn’t justify his actions. He sighed. Did he have to explain everything?

  “Yes, it was necessary. Sooner or later it will come out in the press that Roger wasn’t where Lisa said he was. We were able to be there and explain why. Help her.”

  Sebastian kept on walking. He almost felt like whistling as he strode toward the car. It had been a long time since he had whistled.

  A very long time.

  Vanja was a few steps behind, trying to keep up. Of course. Just leaving Lisa to sort things out by herself would have been stupid. She should have thought of that. It had been a long time since she had felt someone had gotten the better of her.

  A very long time.

  Torkel and Hanser were sitting in Hanser’s office on the third floor. Torkel had requested the meeting to discuss where they were up to regarding evidence. The information from the CCTV cameras was certainly a breakthrough, since they could now definitively place Roger on Gustavsborgsgatan shortly after nine on that fateful Friday. At the same time though, this information meant that their suspicions about Leo were further weakened. There was sufficient correlation between his earlier account and the reality, and in consultation with the prosecutor Torkel had decided to let Leo go in order to avoid wasting time and losing focus in a difficult investigation. Naturally, all hell would break loose in the press. After all, they had already tried and convicted Leo Lundin. The bully who went too far. They would highlight the fact that certain discoveries pointed to Leo. The victim’s blood on his T-shirt was already a matter of common
knowledge. The green jacket wasn’t all over the papers yet, but several reports had stated that the police had made a further discovery in the Lundins’ garage. The fact that this “further discovery” had actually been planted there was not mentioned in the press, and nor would it be. This information was known only to Torkel’s team, and that was the way it would stay.

  Torkel wanted to inform Hanser of his decision in person before he called the prosecutor. She was still formally responsible for the investigation, and under pressure to produce results. Torkel knew it was never easy to let a suspect go without introducing a new one. Hanser understood the situation and shared his view. However, she insisted that Torkel conduct the impending press conference. Torkel understood why. It was better for her career if Riksmord seemed to be fumbling in the dark. Torkel promised to handle the media and went off to call the prosecutor.

  Their car pulled up on another street, in front of another house in another residential area. How many places like this were there in Västerås? In the county? In the country? Sebastian wondered as he and Vanja walked up the stone path to the yellow two-story house. He assumed it was possible to be happy in a place like this. He had no personal experience of it, but that didn’t mean it was out of the question. Well, it was for him. There was a sense of “quiet dignity” about the whole place that he despised.

  “Right, that’s enough—get out of here, both of you!”

  Sebastian and Vanja turned and saw a man of about forty-five heading toward them from the open garage door. He had a blue cylinder made of some kind of fabric under one arm. A tent. He was marching toward them with speed and determination.

  “My name is Vanja Lithner and this is Sebastian Bergman.” Vanja held up her ID. Sebastian raised his hand in greeting. “We’re from Riksmord, and we’re investigating the murder of Roger Eriksson. We spoke to Beatrice at school.”

  “My apologies. I thought you were journalists. I’ve already chased away a couple today. Ulf Strand, Johan’s father.”

  Ulf held out his hand. Sebastian was struck by the fact that this was the second of Johan’s parents to introduce himself like this. As a parent. Ulf—Johan’s father, not Beatrice’s husband. Beatrice had spoken about Ulf in the same way. As her son’s father, not as her husband. “He was out with Ulf, his dad.” Not “my husband.”

  “Aren’t you married? You and Beatrice?”

  Ulf seemed surprised at the question.

  “Yes, why?”

  “Just curious, I had the feeling that… doesn’t matter. Is Johan home?”

  Ulf glanced at the house, his brow furrowed with concern.

  “Yes, but do you have to do this today? Everything that’s happened has hit him really hard. That’s why we’re going camping. Just to get away for a little while.”

  “I’m sorry, but for various reasons we’re behind with most aspects of this investigation, and we really do need to speak to Johan as soon as possible.”

  Ulf realized there wasn’t much he could say to that, so he shrugged his shoulders, put down the camping equipment, and showed them into the house.

  They took off their shoes in the hallway, where a number of shoes, sneakers, and slippers lay in a jumbled heap. Dust bunnies on the floor. At least three different combinations of coats, scarves, and gloves lay tossed on the black wooden bench along one wall. As they moved into the house Vanja got the impression that this was the absolute opposite of Ann-Charlotte and Erik Hansson’s well-ordered home. An ironing board stood in one corner of the living room with a pile of clean laundry on top of it, alongside an assortment of letters, bills, a daily newspaper, and a coffee mug. There were another two mugs among the crumbs on the sticky surface of the table in front of the TV. Yet more clothes lay strewn across armchairs and the back of the sofa; it was impossible to tell whether they were dirty or clean. They carried on upstairs. A skinny, bespectacled boy who looked younger than his sixteen years was in his room playing on a computer.

  “Johan, these are police officers, and they’d like to have a little chat with you about Roger.”

  “In a minute.”

  Johan kept his attention fixed on the screen. It appeared to be some kind of action game. A man with an extremely overgrown and distorted arm was running around fighting figures that looked like soldiers. He was using his arm as a weapon. Billy would probably have known what the game was called. The character in the game got into a tank standing on a street corner and the screen froze, showing the word Loading. When the picture returned you were inside the tank, and apparently you could steer it. Johan pressed a key. The picture froze. He turned to Vanja, a tired look in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry for your loss. As I understand it, you and Roger were close friends.”

  Johan nodded.

  “So I would assume Roger told you things he didn’t tell anyone else.”

  “Like what?”

  Nothing new, as it turned out. Johan didn’t think Roger had been worried about anything, or afraid of anyone in particular, although he did bump into some of the boys from Vikinga School from time to time. He was happy at Palmlövska High, didn’t owe anyone any money, hadn’t shown an interest in anyone else’s girlfriend. He had a girlfriend of his own, after all. Johan thought that was where Roger had been that Friday evening. Roger had spent a lot of time at Lisa’s. Too much, Sebastian and Vanja suspected Johan really meant. And no, he didn’t know who Roger would have been meeting if he wasn’t with Lisa. Nor did he know why Roger had phoned him at home that evening. And he hadn’t rung Johan on his cell later. Johan’s favorite word appeared to be “no.”

  Vanja was beginning to despair. They were getting nowhere. Everybody kept saying the same thing. Roger was a quiet, well-behaved boy who kept himself to himself and didn’t fall out with anyone. What if this was one of those rare cases where the perpetrator didn’t know his victim? What if someone had just decided to go out and commit a murder one Friday evening, and chose Roger?

  By chance.

  Just because he could.

  Admittedly this was extremely unusual, at least given the circumstances in this case. Removing the heart. Moving and hiding the body. Planting evidence.

  Unusual, but not impossible.

  At the same time there was something not quite right about all these near identical descriptions of Roger; Vanja was starting to feel this more and more strongly. Lisa’s comment that Roger liked to have secrets had stuck in her mind. She felt as if those few words were closer to the truth than all the rest. It was as if there had been two Roger Erikssons: one who was barely noticeable and never stuck out from the crowd, and another with lots of secrets.

  “So you can’t think of anyone who might have had a reason to be angry with Roger?”

  Vanja was already on her way out of the room, certain that she would get another shake of the head in response.

  “Well, yes, Axel was furious with him of course. But not that furious.”

  Vanja stopped dead. She could almost feel the adrenaline level rising. A name. Someone who had a grudge against Roger. A straw to clutch at. Perhaps the beginning of yet another secret.

  “Who’s Axel?”

  “He was the janitor at school.”

  An adult male. Access to a car. The straw was getting bigger.

  “And why was this Axel angry with Roger?”

  “Roger got him fired a few weeks ago.”

  “Ah yes, that unfortunate incident.”

  Ragnar Groth unbuttoned his jacket and sat down behind his desk, looking as if he might have eaten something unpleasant. Vanja was standing just inside the door, arms folded. She was finding it difficult to keep the anger out of her voice.

  “When we were here earlier, I said that someone at this school could have been involved in Roger Eriksson’s murder. But you didn’t consider an employee who was fired because of Roger?”

  The principal threw his arms wide in a gesture that managed to be both apologetic and belittling.

  “No, I’m afraid not.
I’m sorry. I didn’t make the connection.”

  “Could you tell us a little about ‘that unfortunate incident’?”

  Groth was staring with open dislike at Sebastian, who had settled down in one of the armchairs with a brochure about the school that he had found in a rack outside the principal’s office while they were waiting.

  Palmlövska High. Where your opportunities begin.

  “There isn’t much to tell. It became apparent that our janitor, Axel Johansson, was selling alcohol to the students. Bootlegging, you might say. Of course he was dismissed with immediate effect, and that was the end of the matter.”

  “And how did you find out what he was up to?” Vanja said. Ragnar Groth gave her a weary look as he leaned forward and brushed a few specks of dust from the surface of his desk.

  “That’s why you’re here, I suppose? Roger Eriksson came to me as the responsible student he was and told me what was happening. I asked a girl in one of the lower grades to call Axel and place an order. When he turned up to meet her with the goods, we caught him red-handed.”

  “Did Axel know it was Roger who had given the game away?”

  “I don’t know. Probably. I think several of the students knew.”

  “But you didn’t report this to the police?”

  “I couldn’t really see that there was anything to be gained by doing so.”

  “Could it be that your reputation as ‘an outstanding educational environment, encompassing security, inspiration, and extensive developmental opportunities for each individual from a Christian point of view with underlying Christian values’ might have been slightly sullied?” Sebastian looked up from the brochure and couldn’t suppress a malicious smile. Ragnar Groth fought to keep the distaste out of his voice when he replied.

  “It’s no secret that our excellent reputation is our principle resource.”

  Vanja simply shook her head, unable to understand.

  “So you don’t report crimes committed on school premises?”

  “It was just bootlegging. Small amounts. Admittedly those involved were underage, but even so. Axel would have been fined, wouldn’t he? If that?”