The Stranger. Camilla Lackberg
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the stairs and cast a look into the kitchen where he heard Erica clattering about. ‘We’re going out for a walk,’ he called to her, and from the corner of his eye he could see Erica trying to pretend it was no big deal.
‘It’s cold out, so you’d better put on a jacket,’ he said to Anna, who took his advice and slipped on a beige duffel coat, wrapping a big white scarf round her neck.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked, aware of the multiple meanings in that question.
‘Yes, I think so,’ said Anna quietly, and she followed him out into the spring sunshine.
‘So, do you think anyone ever gets used to it?’ asked Martin in the car on the way to Fjällbacka.
‘No,’ Patrik said. ‘At least I hope not. Otherwise it’d be time to switch professions.’ He took the curve at Långsjö much too fast, and Martin clutched the handle above the window as usual. He made a mental note to warn the new officer against riding with Patrik. Although it was probably too late. She had ridden in the car with him to that accident scene this morning, so she’d probably already had her first near-death experience.
‘How does she seem?’ Martin asked.
‘Who?’ Patrik seemed more distracted than normal.
‘The new officer. Hanna Kruse.’
‘She seems all right,’ said Patrik.
‘But?’
‘What do you mean, “but”?’ Patrik turned to look at his colleague, which made Martin grip the handle even harder.
‘Jesus, would you please watch the road? I meant, it seemed like you wanted to say more.’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ To Martin’s relief he was now keeping his eyes on the road. ‘I’m just not used to people who are so … ambitious.’
‘And what do you mean by that?’ Martin said with a laugh, unable to hide the fact that he felt a bit insulted.
‘Hey, don’t take it the wrong way. I didn’t mean that you lacked ambition, but Hanna, she’s, how shall I put it – super-ambitious.’
‘Super-ambitious,’ Martin said sceptically. ‘You have reservations about her because she’s super-ambitious? Could you be a bit more specific? And what’s wrong with super-ambitious women, anyway? You’re not somebody who thinks women have no place on the force, are you?’
Now Patrik looked away from the road again and gave Martin an incredulous look.
‘How well do you know me, anyway? Do you think I’m some sort of male chauvinist pig? A chauvinist pig whose fiancée makes twice as much as he does, by the way. I just mean … oh, never mind, you’ll just have to see for yourself.’
Martin was silent for a moment, then he said, ‘Are you serious? Does Erica make twice as much as you do?’
Patrik laughed. ‘I knew that would shut you up. Although to be entirely honest, that’s before taxes. Most of it goes to the government. Lucky thing, too. It would have been too depressing to be rich.’
Martin joined in the laughter. ‘Yeah, what a fate. That’s not something you’d want to deal with.’
‘You can say that again.’ Patrik smiled but soon turned serious. They turned into the Kullen neighbourhood, where the blocks of flats stood close together, and parked the car. Then they sat there for a moment before getting out.
‘Well, here we go again.’
‘Yep,’ said Martin. The knot in his stomach was growing by the minute. But there was no turning back. Might as well get it done.
‘Lars?’ Hanna put down her bag inside the front door, hung up her jacket, and placed her shoes on the shoe rack. No one answered. ‘Hello? Lars? Are you here?’ She could hear the anxiety begin creeping into her voice. ‘Lars?’ She went through the house. Everything was quiet. Dust motes scattered in her path, clearly visible in the springtime sun shining through the windows. The landlord hadn’t done much of a cleaning job before he rented the place. But she couldn’t face doing it now. Her unease was pushing everything else away. ‘LARS?’ Now she was shouting, but she heard only her own voice echoing off the walls.
Hanna continued looking through the house. There was nobody downstairs, so she ran upstairs to the top floor. The door to the bedroom was closed. She opened it cautiously. ‘Lars?’ she said softly. He was lying on the bed on his side, his back to her. He was on top of the covers, fully dressed, and she could see from his even breathing that he was asleep. She crept over to the bed and lay down beside him, their bodies like two spoons. She listened to his breathing and could feel the regular rhythm begin to rock her softly to sleep. And sleep took away her worry.
‘What a fucking dump,’ said Uffe, flopping down on one of the beds that stood ready in the big room.
‘I think it’s going to be fun,’ said Barbie, bouncing on the bed.
‘Did I say it wouldn’t be fun?’ said Uffe with a laugh. ‘I just said it’s a dump. But we’re going to get things moving, aren’t we? Just look at the supplies.’ He sat up, pointing at the well-stocked bar. ‘What do you say? Shall we start to party?’
‘Yeah!’ Everyone except Jonna cheered. Nobody looked at the cameras whirring all around them. They were much too used to them to make such a beginner’s mistake.
‘So skål then, for fuck’s sake,’ said Uffe, grabbing the first beer.
‘Skål,’ said all the others, raising their bottles high. All except Jonna. She was still sitting on her bed, looking at the five others and not moving.
‘What’s your problem?’ Uffe snapped in her direction. ‘Aren’t you going to have a beer with us? Aren’t we good enough to drink with you, or what?’ They all looked expectantly at Jonna. They were all acutely aware that conflicts made for great TV, and if there was anything they all wanted, it was for Sodding Tanum to be great TV.
‘I just don’t feel like it,’ said Jonna. She avoided Uffe’s gaze.
‘“I just don’t feel like it,”’ Uffe mocked her, his voice a shrill falsetto. He looked around to make sure that he had the others’ support, and when he saw anticipation in their eyes he went on. ‘What the fuck, are you some kind of fucking teetotaller? I thought we were here to PAR-TAY!’ He raised his bottle and took a big swig.
‘She’s not a teetotaller,’ Barbie ventured to say. A sharp look from Uffe shut her up.
‘Just leave me alone,’ said Jonna, swinging her legs down from the bed in annoyance. ‘I’m going out for a while,’ she said, pulling on her big shapeless military jacket that was hanging on a nearby chair.
‘Go ahead,’ Uffe yelled after her. ‘Fuck off, loser!’ He gave a big laugh and opened another beer. Then he looked round again. ‘What are you sitting around for, it’s a PARTY! Skål!’
After a few seconds of awkward silence a nervous laughter began to spread. Then the others raised their bottles and plunged into the fray. The cameras kept whirring, inciting their intoxication. It was great to be on TV again.
‘Pappa, the doorbell is ringing!’ Sofie yelled and then returned to her phone call. She sighed.
‘Pappa is so slow. I can’t stand just sitting here. I’m counting the days until I can go back home to Mamma and Kerstin. Typical – I have to stay in the flat when they start shooting Sodding Tanum today. Everyone else is going down to watch, and I’m missing it all. So bloody typical,’ she groused. ‘Pappa, you have to get it, there’s someone at the door!’ she yelled. ‘I’m too old to be shuttling back and forth between those two like some kid from a broken home. But they still can’t get along, so neither of them will listen to me. They act like such babies.’
The doorbell sounded loudly through the flat again,