The Stonecutter (26 page)

‘And how does the problem manifest itself then?’ Martin was so fascinated that he was forgetting to eat his lunch. Before he applied for the police academy he had toyed with the idea of studying psychology, and sometimes he wondered whether he might have made the wrong choice. Nothing was as interesting as the human psyche in its myriad forms.

‘The most obvious symptoms are probably the difficulties that arise with social interaction. The children consistently behave in an improper fashion. They don’t understand social rules, and they may have a tendency to blurt out the truth, which obviously makes it hard to get along with other people. There is also a strong egocentricity. They have a hard time relating to other people’s feelings and experiences and care only about themselves. Often they don’t have much need to be with other people. If they do play with other children, they either try to decide everything or they completely submit to the other children’s will. The latter is more common among girls with the syndrome. Another clear indication is if the child develops a special interest that becomes an obsession. Children with Asperger’s have the capacity to become incredibly detail-oriented, and they often learn everything about their special interest. For adults it’s often exciting to watch the child develop his knowledge, but Asperger children have such one-track minds and are so often consumed by their special passion that others soon lose interest. When the children reach school age, obsessive thoughts and actions start becoming noticeable. They have to do things in a certain way, and they also force people around them to do things that way.’

‘What about language?’ asked Martin, recalling Morgan’s odd way of expressing himself.

‘Yes, language is another strong indicator.’ Eva scraped the last of her salad from the plastic bowl and then continued. ‘It’s one of the big difficulties that people with Asperger’s syndrome encounter in their daily lives. When humans communicate, we usually express much more than what our words say. We use body language and facial expressions, we modify the intonation of a sentence, use different emphasis, and vigorously employ similes and metaphors. All these things present difficulties for someone with Asperger’s. An expression such as “we’ll probably have to skip coffee” could be understood as meaning that one should jump over a coffee cup. When speaking themselves, they also have a hard time hearing how they sound in comparison to other people. Their voice could be very soft, almost a whisper, or very loud and shrill. Often it is droning and monotonous.’

Martin nodded. Morgan’s voice certainly fit with that description.

‘The person I met also had an odd way of moving. Is that common?’

Eva nodded. ‘Motor function is also a distinct sign. It can be awkward, stiff, or extremely minimalistic. Stereotypy also occurs frequently.’

She could see from Martin’s expression that she needed to explain that last term.

‘That means stereotypical movements that are repeated, such as small waves of the hand.’

‘If the person with Asperger’s has trouble with motor skills, does it apply to everything he does?’ Martin remembered how Morgan’s fingers flew smoothly over the keyboard.

‘No, not really. It’s common that in conjunction with his special interest, or if he’s doing something that particularly fascinates him, he can have very well functioning fine-motor skills.’

‘What are the teen years like for kids with this syndrome?’

‘Well, that’s a whole other story. But would you like some coffee before we go on? It’s a lot of information to take in. Are you going to take notes, by the way, or is your memory that good?’

Martin pointed to the little tape recorder he’d placed on the table. ‘My assistant will take care of that. But I won’t say no to a cup of coffee.’ His stomach was grumbling a little. Salad was not what he usually ate for lunch, and he knew he’d have to stop at a hot dog stand on the way back.

After a while Eva came back with a cup of steaming hot coffee in each hand. She sat down and continued her lecture.

‘Where were we? Oh, yes, the teen years. Once again, that’s a time when it’s rather difficult to diagnose a person with Asperger’s if he or she hasn’t been diagnosed previously. So many of the usual problems of adolescence come up, but they’re often amplified and made more extreme by Asperger’s. Hygiene, for example, is a big problem. Many are careless with their daily hygiene. They don’t feel like taking a shower, brushing their teeth, or changing clothes. Going to school becomes problematic. They have a hard time grasping the importance of making an effort in school, and problems also continue in social interactions with schoolmates and other contemporaries. This makes it difficult and sometimes impossible for them to work in groups, a learning technique that is becoming more prevalent in high school. Depression is common, too, as well as antisocial behavior.’

Martin pricked up his ears at this. ‘What would you include in that category?’

‘Things such as violent crimes, break-ins, and arson.’

‘So there’s an increased tendency for persons with Asperger’s to commit crimes of violence?’

‘Well, it’s not that those suffering from Asperger’s as a whole are more inclined to violence, but the percentage is definitely higher than in the general population. As I said before, they have a strong ego fixation and difficulty understanding and involving themselves in other people’s feelings. Lack of empathy is a strong personality trait. To simplify somewhat, one might say that common sense is a concept that is lacking in someone with Asperger’s.’

‘If a person with Asperger’s …’ Martin hesitated, ‘was implicated in a homicide investigation, would there be a reason to pay closer attention to him?’

Eva took his question seriously and paused to ponder her reply.

‘I can’t answer that. Of course there are, as I said, certain characteristics in the diagnosis that lower the barrier that prevents most people from committing acts of violence. At the same time it’s an exceedingly small percentage of people with Asperger’s who go to the extreme of committing murder. Yes, I do read the papers, so I know what case you’re talking about,’ she said, cradling her coffee cup pensively in her hands. ‘It’s my personal opinion that it would be extremely risky to go down that road, if you know what I mean.’

Martin nodded. He knew exactly what she meant. It had happened many times before that people ended up being wrongly accused simply because they were different. But knowledge is power, and he still felt it had been very valuable to get an insight into Morgan’s world.

‘I’d really like to thank you for taking the time to talk with me. I hope the errands you had to postpone because of me weren’t urgent.’

‘No, not at all,’ said Eva, getting up to show him out. ‘A little badly needed renewal of my wardrobe is all. In other words, nothing that can’t wait till next week.’

She accompanied him to the cloakroom and waited while he put on his jacket, which was actually dry by now.

‘I’m glad I don’t have to go out in this crummy weather,’ said Eva. They peered out of the window at the rain that was still pouring down and making big puddles on the square.

‘Yes, it’s probably going to be autumn forever,’ replied Martin, holding out his hand to say good-bye.

‘Thanks for the lunch, by the way. And do call if you have any more questions. It was a pleasure to be able to brush up on a particular subject. I don’t often get a chance to do that.’

‘Right. Well, I’ll give you a call if I need to. Thanks again.’

17

Fjällbacka 1924

The delivery was more horrible than Agnes could ever have imagined. She had been in labor for almost forty-eight hours and was close to dying before the doctor finally leaned his whole weight on her belly and forced the first child out into the world. For there were two. The second boy soon followed, and the nurse proudly showed her the babies after they had been washed and wrapped in warm blankets. But Agnes turned away. She didn’t want to see the creatures that had destroyed her life and had brought her so near death. As far as she was concerned, they could give those babies away, or toss them in the river, or do whatever they liked with them. Their tiny voices tore at her ears. She soon covered her ears and bellowed at the woman holding them to take them away. In horror the nurse obeyed, and Agnes could hear people starting to whisper around her. But she didn’t care. The shrieks faded, and now she just wanted to sleep. Sleep for a hundred years, to be wakened by a kiss from a prince who would take her away from all this misery and from the two little monsters that her body had expelled.

When she awoke, she thought at first that her dream had been granted. A tall, dark figure stood leaning over her, and for a moment she thought it was the prince she’d been waiting for. But then she recognized Anders. The sight of the loving expression on his face made her sick. Did he think that things between them would be different now, just because she had squeezed out two sons for him? Take them, she thought jubilantly, and let her have her freedom back. For a brief moment she noticed how that thought aroused a jubilant feeling in her breast. She was no longer huge and shapeless and pregnant. She could leave if she liked, find the life she deserved, the life where she belonged. But how? Since there was no chance of returning to her father, where would she go? She had no money of her own and no way of obtaining any, other than selling herself on the streets. Even her present life was better than that. The hopelessness of her situation made her turn her head away and sob. Anders gently stroked her hair. If she had been able to raise her arms, she would have shoved his hands away.

‘They’re so beautiful, Agnes. They’re just perfect.’ His voice was quivering a little.

She didn’t reply, just stared at the wall and shut out everything else. If only somebody would come and take her away from here.

Sara still hadn’t come back. Mamma had explained that she wasn’t going to, but Frida hadn’t believed her. She thought it was just something Mamma was saying. Sara couldn’t simply disappear like that, could she? If so, Frida regretted that she hadn’t been nicer to her. She wouldn’t have fought so much with Sara when she took her toys, but just let her have them. Now it was probably too late.

She went over to the window and looked up at the sky again. It was gray and dirty-looking. Sara wouldn’t like living there, would she?

Then there was the whole secret about the old man, too. Of course she’d promised Sara to keep quiet. But Mamma said that she should always tell the truth, and not saying anything was almost the same as lying, wasn’t it?

Frida sat down in front of her dollhouse. It was her favorite toy. It had belonged to her mamma when she was little, and now it was Frida’s. She had a hard time imagining that Mamma was once the same age as Frida was now. Mamma was so … grown-up.

The dollhouse showed clear traces of being from the seventies. It was supposed to represent a two-story brick house, and it was furnished in brown and orange. Frida thought all the pieces were super, but it was a shame that there weren’t more pink and blue things in the dollhouse. Blue was her favorite color. And pink had been Sara’s. Frida thought it was odd. Everyone knew that pink and red clashed, and Sara had red hair, so she shouldn’t have liked pink. But she did anyway. That was how she always was. Contrary, sort of.

There were four dolls that went with the house. Two child dolls and a mamma and a pappa doll. Now she took the two child dolls, both girls, and set them facing each other. Usually she wanted to be the one in green, because she was the nicest-looking, but now that Sara was dead she could be the green one. Frida would have to be the doll in the brown dress.

‘Hi, Frida, do you know that I’m dead?’ said the green Sara doll.

‘Yes, Mamma told me,’ said the brown one.

‘What does she say about it?’

‘That you’ve gone to heaven and won’t be coming over to play with me anymore.’

‘How boring,’ said the Sara doll.

Frida nodded her doll’s head. ‘Yes, I think so too. If I knew you were going to die and wouldn’t come over to play with me anymore, you could have had whatever toys you wanted and I wouldn’t have complained.’

‘What a shame,’ said the Sara doll. ‘That I’m dead, I mean.’

‘Yes, what a shame,’ said the one in brown.

Both dolls were silent for a moment. Then the Sara doll said, ‘You didn’t say anything about the old man, did you?’

‘No, I promised.’

‘Yes, because it was our secret.’

‘But why can’t I tell? The old man was nasty, wasn’t he?’ The brown doll’s voice sounded increasingly shrill.

‘That’s why. The old man said that I mustn’t tell. And you have to do whatever nasty old men say.’

‘But you’re dead, so the old man can’t do anything to you, can he?’

The Sara doll had nothing to say to that. Frida carefully put the dolls back in the house and went over to stand by the window again. Imagine that everything had to be so hard, just because Sara had died.

Annika was back from lunch and called out to Patrik when he and Ernst returned. He merely waved, in a hurry to get to his office, but she insisted. He stopped in her doorway, eyebrows raised. Annika peered at him over the top of her glasses. He seemed exhausted, and the rain had left him looking like a drowned cat. But between his baby and the murder of a child, he probably didn’t have much energy left to take care of himself.