The Stonecutter (39 page)

He laughed. ‘Not today, but I’ll see if we can arrange it some other time.’

She seemed content with that, and preceded her mother into the corridor.

‘Thanks for coming,’ said Patrik, shaking hands with Veronika.

‘I do hope you catch the man who did this soon. I hardly dare let her out of my sight,’ she said, reaching out to stroke her daughter’s hair.

‘We’ll do our best,’ said Patrik with more confidence than he felt, and accompanied them to the front entrance.

As the door closed behind them, he pondered what Frida had said. A disgusting old man? The description she’d given didn’t match Kaj. But who else could it be?

He went over to Annika sitting behind her glassed-in counter. After glancing at the clock, he said wearily, ‘You had some tips I was supposed to look at?’

‘Yes, here they are,’ she said, pushing a sheet of paper toward him. ‘And don’t forget that Gösta wants to talk to you too. He’s probably about to go home, so you’d better get hold of him right away.’

‘Some people sure have it easy, being able to go home,’ he sighed. Erica hadn’t been happy when he called, and his guilty conscience was nagging him.

‘He probably goes home when you tell him he can go home,’ said Annika, peering over the top of her glasses at Patrik.

‘In theory you’re right, but in practice it’s probably best for Gösta to go home and get some rest. He doesn’t contribute much when he’s sitting here grumbling.’

It sounded harsher than Patrik intended, but sometimes he got so tired of having to drag his colleagues along with him. Two of them, at any rate. Oh well, he could at least be thankful that Gösta was generally well-meaning, and far too lacking in initiative to present the problems that Ernst did.

‘I suppose I’d better go find out what he wants.’

Patrik picked up the piece of paper with the tip information and headed for Gösta’s office. He stopped in the doorway long enough to see Gösta shut down a game of solitaire on his computer. The fact that his colleague had just been sitting there wasting time while Patrik was working so had infuriated him. He couldn’t have this discussion with Gösta now, but sooner or later …

‘So, there you are,’ said Gösta, sounding put out, which made Patrik wonder if ‘sooner’ might not be the best option.

‘I had something important to take care of,’ Patrik said through clenched teeth, though he was trying not to sound as critical as he felt.

‘Well, I have some things to tell you too,’ said Gösta, sounding surprisingly eager.

‘Shoot,’ said Patrik in English, then realizing from Gösta’s quizzical look that English expressions probably weren’t his strong suit. Unless they were golf-related, of course.

Gösta told him about the conversation with Pedersen about the organic matter, granite, and wood in the ashes. Patrik listened with growing interest. He took the faxes that Gösta handed him and sat down to study them.

‘Yep, these are definitely interesting,’ he said. ‘The question is, how do we proceed from here?’

‘Well,’ said Gösta, ‘I’ve been wondering the same thing. The information might help us link somebody to the murder if we find the right person. But until then, it doesn’t give us much to go on.’

‘And they couldn’t say for sure whether the organic remains were animal or human?’

‘No,’ said Gösta, shaking his head. ‘But within a few days we might get the answer to that.’

Patrik looked thoughtful. ‘Tell me again, Gösta, what did Pedersen say about the stone?’

‘Just that it was granite.’

‘Pretty damn common here in Bohuslän, in other words,’ said Patrik ironically, running his hand dispiritedly through his hair. ‘If only we could work out what role the ashes played, I bet we’d also know who murdered Sara.’

Gösta nodded in agreement.

‘Well, we aren’t going to get any further right now,’ said Patrik, getting to his feet. ‘But it’s damned interesting information. Why don’t you head home now, Gösta, and we’ll start fresh tomorrow.’ He even managed to force a smile.

Gösta didn’t need to be told twice. Within two minutes he’d shut down the computer, gathered up his things, and was on his way out the door. Patrik wasn’t quite as fortunate. It was already a quarter to seven, but before he could go home he had to look over the notes from Annika. A moment later, he grabbed the telephone.

Sometimes Erica felt as though she were standing outside the real world, encased in a tiny little bubble that kept shrinking. Now it was so small that she felt she could touch its walls if she reached out her hand.

Maja was sleeping at her breast. Once again Erica had tried to lay her down and get her to sleep by herself, but Maja woke up a few minutes later, protesting loudly at the enormous indignity of finding herself in a crib, just when she had been sleeping so soundly at her mother’s breast. Erica had thoughts of trying out the suggestions in
The Baby Book,
but so far she hadn’t gotten beyond the thinking stage. So as usual, she had given up and quieted the baby’s cries by putting Maja to her breast and letting her sleep there. Often she would sleep for an hour or two, provided Erica didn’t move much and she wasn’t disturbed by loud noises from the telephone or the TV. So Erica had now been sitting for half an hour like a paving stone in the easy chair, with the telephone unplugged and the TV on mute. Of course there was nothing good on at this time of day, so she was watching a silent episode of a dumb American soap opera that TV4 apparently had bought by the thousands. She hated her life.

Feeling guilty, she looked at the little downy head resting happily on the nursing pillow. The baby’s mouth was half open and her eyelids fluttered now and then. Erica’s despair had nothing to do with lack of motherly love. She loved Maja fiercely and sincerely. At the same time she felt as if she’d been invaded by an alien parasite that sucked all joy out of her and forced her into a shadow existence that had nothing in common with the life she’d lived before.

Sometimes she felt such bitterness against Patrik as well. Because he could make small guest appearances in her world and then slip out into the real world like a normal person. Because he didn’t understand how it felt to be living her life right now. But in more clear-headed moments she realized that she wasn’t being fair. Because how could he understand? He wasn’t physically bound to the baby in the same way she was; not emotionally either, for that matter. For better or worse, the bond between mother and daughter was so strong in the beginning that it functioned as both a shackle and a lifeline.

One of her legs had gone to sleep, and Erica cautiously tried to change position. It was risky, she knew that, but the pain in her leg was too much. Maja started to squirm, opened her eyes and immediately began searching for food with her mouth wide open. With a sigh Erica stuck in her nipple again. So far Maja had only slept for half an hour, and Erica knew that it wouldn’t be long before she fell asleep again. Sitting motionless like this, her butt was going to get a real workout today too. No, damn it all, she thought in the next instant. This time she was going to make Maja sleep alone!

It turned into a battle of wills. In one corner, Erica, 154 pounds. In the other corner, Maja, 13 pounds. With a firm grip Erica rolled the stroller over the threshold between the living room and the hall. A whole arm’s length, in, out. She wondered how anyone could sleep in a stroller that shook like there was an earthquake going on, but according to
The Baby Book
that was exactly what was needed. Give the baby plain and clear instructions that ‘now you’re going to sleep, Mamma has the situation under control.’ Fifteen minutes into the experiment, however, Erica wouldn’t exactly describe her situation as ‘under control.’ Although Maja, according to all calculations, should have been extremely tired, she screamed to high heaven, furious at being denied the pacifying warmth of her mother’s body. For a moment Erica was tempted to give up and sit down and nurse her daughter to sleep, but then she thought better of it. No matter how angry Maja was about the new regime, and how much her shrieks cut to Erica’s heart, Maja would be better served by a mother who felt happy and had the energy to take care of her. So she persevered. Each time Maja cried in protest, Erica firmly rolled the stroller back and forth. If Maja quieted down and seemed about to go to sleep, Erica would carefully stop the stroller. According to Anna Wahlgren, it was important to stop moving the stroller just before the baby fell asleep so she would do so under her own power. And hallelujah! Half an hour later, Maja was sound asleep in the stroller. Cautiously Erica wheeled her into the study, closed the door, and sat down on the sofa feeling blissful.

Her good humor held on, even when it was eight o’clock and Patrik still hadn’t come home. Erica hadn’t had the energy to go around and turn on the lamps, so as the twilight gradually turned to night, the house had grown ever darker. Now the only light came from the TV screen. She lazily watched one of the many reality shows that were on in the evening as she fed Maja once again. To her shame, she had to admit that she’d gotten hooked on far too many of these shows, and Patrik had taken to muttering about being inundated with petty intrigues and people greedy for media attention. His time watching sports programs had been considerably curtailed, but as long as he wasn’t the one who had to sit and nurse Maja all evening, he agreed to let Erica be the boss of the remote control. Now she turned up the volume, amazed at the girls willing to prance and preen for a vain and foolish young man trying to convince them that he was marriage material. It was obvious to all the TV viewers that he considered his participation in the program as a way to increase his pickup success at the trendiest clubs in Stockholm. Erica actually agreed with Patrik that the program was an intelligence-free zone, but once she started watching it she couldn’t stop.

A sound from the front door made her turn the volume back down. For an instant her old fear of the dark took over, but then she realized that it must be Patrik finally coming home.

‘You’ve sure got it dark in here,’ he said, turning on a couple of lamps before he went over to Erica and Maja. He leaned over and kissed Erica on the cheek, stroked Maja’s head gently, and then plopped down on the sofa.

‘I’m really sorry to be so late,’ he said. Despite Erica’s childish feelings earlier that day, her annoyance drained out of her at once.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘We managed fine, the two of us.’ She was still euphoric at getting some brief moments to herself when Maja was sleeping in the stroller in the study.

‘No chance of watching a little hockey, is there?’ Patrik cast a wistful glance at the TV, not having noticed Erica’s unusually good mood.

Erica just snorted in reply. What a dumb question.

‘That’s what I figured,’ he said, smiling, and stood up. ‘I’m going to make myself a couple of sandwiches. Would you like some?’

She shook her head. ‘I ate a while ago. But a cup of tea would be nice. She’ll probably have had her fill soon.’ As if Maja understood what Erica said, she let go and looked up in contentment. Erica gratefully straightened her clothes, set Maja in the bouncer, and went to join Patrik in the kitchen. He was at the stove stirring O’Boy cocoa powder into a saucepan of milk. She went to stand behind him, putting her arms round him to hug him tight. It felt so good, and she realized how little physical contact they’d had since Maja was born. She knew it was mostly her fault.

‘How was your day?’ she asked. That was something else she hadn’t done in a long time.

‘Terrible,’ he said, taking butter, cheese, and caviar out of the fridge.

‘I heard that you brought Kaj in,’ she said cautiously, unsure of how much Patrik would want to tell. She had decided not to say anything about the visits she’d had that day.

‘The gossip has spread like wildfire, I presume?’ said Patrik.

‘You could say that.’

‘So, what are people saying?’

‘That he must have had something to do with Sara’s death. Is it true?’

‘I don’t know.’ Patrik seemed tired as he poured the hot chocolate into a cup and fixed a couple of open sandwiches. He sat down facing Erica and began to dunk his cheese-and-caviar sandwich into the hot chocolate. After a while he went on: ‘But we didn’t bring him in because of Sara’s murder. There was another reason.’

He fell silent again. Erica knew better than to pry, but she couldn’t help asking. In her mind’s eye she saw Charlotte’s listless gaze.

‘But is there anything to indicate that he may have had something to do with Sara’s death?’

Patrik dunked another sandwich in the chocolate and Erica tried not to watch. She hated this barbaric habit.

‘Yeah, there might well be. But we’ll have to wait and see. We can’t take the risk of narrowing our focus. There’s something else we have to look at too,’ he said, avoiding her eyes.

She stopped asking questions. Grunts of protest from the living room indicated that Maja was getting tired of sitting all alone. Patrik got up and brought in the bouncer, setting her gently down on the kitchen table. She gurgled gratefully and waved her hands and feet. The weariness in his face vanished, and his eyes took on that special gleam reserved for his daughter.

‘Is this Pappa’s little sweetie? Did Pappa’s little darling have a good day? Is she the sweetest girl in the whole world?’ he babbled with his face close to Maja’s. Then Maja’s face contorted, turned bright red, and after a couple of groans there came a ‘blap’ from the lower regions and a dense stink spread round the table. Erica got up automatically to deal with the situation.

‘I’ll get it, you just sit,’ said Patrik, and Erica gratefully sank back onto the kitchen chair.

When Patrik came back with a newly changed Maja in her pajamas, she told him with great enthusiasm about the successful stroller trick and how she had gotten Maja to fall asleep.

Patrik looked skeptical. ‘She cried for forty-five minutes before she fell asleep? Is she really supposed to do that? On TV they said that if they cry, you’re supposed to give them the breast. Can it really be good for her to have to cry like that?’