Dark Secrets (26 page)

“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.”