The Stonecutter. Camilla Lackberg
to the house where Sara’s parents lived.
The drive to Fjällbacka took place in total silence. Neither of them had anything to say to the other. When they turned up the hill and into the family’s driveway Patrik recognized the pram standing outside. His first thought was: oh shit! But he quickly revised his reaction. It might be good for the family if Erica was there. At least for Charlotte. She was the one he was most worried about; he had no idea how she was going to take the news they were bringing. People responded so differently. He had actually met relatives who thought it was better that their loved one had been murdered than that the death was accidental. It gave them someone to blame, and they were able to centre their grief on something specific.
With Ernst at his heels, Patrik went up to the front door and knocked cautiously. Charlotte’s mother opened it, and he could see that she was upset. Her face was flushed, and her eyes had a glint of steel that made Patrik hope he never had to cross her.
When she recognized Patrik she made a visible effort to control herself and instead put on an inquiring expression.
‘The police?’ she said, stepping aside to let them in.
Patrik was just about to introduce his colleague when Ernst said: ‘We’ve met.’ He nodded to Lilian, who nodded back.
Well, well, Patrik thought. Of course, with the number of police reports flying back and forth between Lilian and the next-door neighbour, most people at the station should have met her by now. But today they were here on a more serious errand than a petty dispute between neighbours.
‘May we come in for a moment?’ Patrik asked. Lilian nodded and led them into the kitchen, where Niclas was sitting at the table. He too had the flush of anger on his cheeks. Patrik looked around for Charlotte and Erica. Niclas noticed and said, ‘Erica is helping Charlotte take a shower.’
‘How is Charlotte doing?’ Patrik asked as Lilian poured coffee for him and Ernst and placed the cups in front of them on the kitchen table.
‘She’s been completely out of it. But it worked wonders for Erica to come over. It’s the first time Charlotte’s been able to get up and take a shower and change her clothes since …’ he hesitated, ‘it happened.’
Patrik was wrestling with himself. Should he speak to Niclas and Lilian in private and ask Erica to break the news to Charlotte, or was she strong enough to join them? He decided on the latter option. If she was on her feet now, and also had the support of the family, then it ought to go all right. And Niclas was a doctor, after all.
‘Why exactly are you here?’ said Niclas in confusion, giving first Ernst and then Patrik a puzzled look.
‘I think we should wait until Charlotte can join us.’
Both Lilian and Niclas seemed content to wait, but they exchanged a hasty, inscrutable glance. Five minutes passed in silence. Small talk would have felt out of place under the circumstances.
Patrik looked around the kitchen. It was pleasant enough, but obviously the domain of a world-class obsessive-compulsive. Everything was sparkling clean and arranged in straight lines. A bit different to his and Erica’s kitchen, he mused, where there was most often total chaos in the sink while the dustbin overflowed with packaging from frozen meals that could be heated in the microwave. Then he heard a door open, and there stood Erica holding Maja asleep in one arm. Beside her stood Charlotte, fresh from the shower. The astonished look on Erica’s face quickly changed to concern, and she slipped her other hand under Charlotte’s elbow to guide her friend to a kitchen chair. Patrik didn’t know how Charlotte had looked before, but now she had a little colour in her face and her eyes were clear and alert.
‘What are you doing here?’ Charlotte asked in a voice that was still hoarse from several days spent alternating between shrieks and silence. She looked at Niclas, who shrugged his shoulders to indicate that he didn’t know either.
‘We wanted to wait for you before we …’ Patrik’s words failed him as he searched for a good way to present what he had to say. Thankfully Ernst kept his mouth shut and let him handle the situation.
‘We’ve received some new information about Sara’s death.’
‘You’ve found out something else about the accident? What is it?’ said Lilian excitedly.
‘It looks as though it wasn’t an accident.’
‘What do you mean? Why wouldn’t it look like an accident?’ demanded Niclas in obvious frustration.
‘It wasn’t an accident at all. Sara was murdered.’
‘Murdered? What do you mean? She drowned, didn’t she?’ Charlotte looked confused, and Erica grabbed her hand. Maja was still asleep in Erica’s arms, unaware of what was playing out around her.
‘She was drowned, but not in the sea. The medical examiner didn’t find seawater in her lungs as he’d expected. It was fresh water, apparently from a bathtub.’
The silence around the table felt explosive. Patrik looked with concern at Charlotte, and Erica fixed her big eyes on her husband’s face, obviously alarmed.
Patrik understood that the family was in shock, and he began cautiously asking questions to bring them back to reality. Right now he thought that was the best approach. Or at least he hoped it was. In any case, that was his job, and for the sake of both Sara and her family he had to get on with the interview.
‘So now we need to go over in detail the chronology of everything Sara did that morning. Which of you saw her last?’
‘I did,’ said Lilian. ‘I saw her last. Charlotte was lying down in the basement resting, and Niclas had driven off to work, so I was taking care of Sara for a while. Just after nine she said she was going over to Frida’s house. She put on her coat and went out. She waved as she left,’ said Lilian in an empty, mechanical tone of voice.
‘Could you be more precise than just past nine o’clock? Was it twenty after? Five after? How close to nine was it? Every minute will have to be accounted for,’ said Patrik.
Lilian thought it over. ‘I suppose it was about ten after nine. But I can’t say for sure.’
‘Okay, we’ll check and see if any of the neighbours saw anything, so maybe we can get the time corroborated.’ He made a note in his book and went on: ‘And after that no one saw her?’
They shook their heads.
Ernst asked brusquely, ‘So what were the rest of you doing at that time?’
Patrik cringed inside and cursed his colleague’s less than sensitive interviewing technique.
‘What Ernst means is that procedural routine requires us to ask both you and Charlotte the same thing, Niclas. Purely routine, as I said, just to be able to rule you out as suspects as quickly as possible.’
His attempt to dilute the impact of his colleague’s question seemed to work. Both Niclas and Charlotte replied without showing great emotional distress, and they seemed to accept Patrik’s explanation for this uncomfortable question.
‘I was at the clinic,’ said Niclas. ‘I start work at eight.’
‘And you, Charlotte?’ Patrik asked.
‘As Mother said, I was lying down in the basement, resting. I had a migraine,’ she replied in a surprised voice. As if she were shocked that a couple of days earlier she could have viewed that as a big problem in her life.
‘Stig was at home too. He was upstairs resting. He’s been bedridden for a couple of weeks,’ Lilian explained. She seemed annoyed that Patrik and Ernst dared to ask about her family’s activities.
‘Ah yes, Stig, we’ll need to talk to him too eventually, but that can wait a bit,’ said Patrik, who had to admit that he had completely forgotten about Lilian’s husband.
A long silence followed. There was