The Stranger. Camilla Lackberg
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course, come on in, I’m just finishing up some reports.’ He waved Patrik inside. ‘What is it? You look worried.’
‘Well, I’m not quite sure what to think about this. We received the autopsy report on Marit Kaspersen this morning, and I must say there’s something that seems very odd.’
‘What’s that?’ Martin leaned forward with interest. He remembered that Patrik had muttered something along those lines on the day the accident occurred, but then he’d honestly forgotten about it. Patrik hadn’t mentioned it since then either.
‘Well, Pedersen wrote down everything he found, and I talked with him on the phone too, but there’s something we simply can’t explain.’
‘Tell me.’ Martin’s curiosity was mounting by the second.
‘First of all, Marit didn’t die in the car crash. She was already dead when it happened.’
‘Already dead? How? What was it, a heart attack or something?’
‘No, not exactly.’ Patrik scratched his head as he studied the report. ‘She died of alcohol poisoning. She had a point six-one blood alcohol level.’
‘You’ve got to be kidding. Point six-one is enough to kill a horse!’
‘Exactly. According to Pedersen she must have drunk a whole bottle of vodka. In a very short time.’
‘And those who knew her said that she never drank.’
‘Precisely. There was no sign of alcohol abuse in her body either, which probably means that she had built up absolutely no tolerance. According to Pedersen she would have reacted very rapidly.’
‘So she got herself plastered for some reason. It’s tragic, of course, but unfortunately something that happens from time to time,’ Martin said, puzzled by Patrik’s obvious concern.
‘Yes, that’s what it looks like. But Pedersen found something else that makes the whole thing a bit more complicated.’ Patrik crossed his legs and skimmed through the report to find the place. ‘Here it is. I’ll try to translate it into layman’s terms. Everything Pedersen writes is so cryptic. It seems she had an odd bruise around her mouth. There are also signs of trauma inside her mouth and throat.’
‘So, what are you getting at?’
‘I don’t know.’ Patrik sighed. ‘There wasn’t enough for Pedersen to make any definitive conclusions. He can’t say for sure that she didn’t guzzle a whole bottle of booze in the car, die of alcohol poisoning, and then veer off the road.’
‘But she must have been totally pissed before the accident happened. Do we have any reports of anyone driving erratically last Sunday evening?’
‘Not that I can find. Which just adds to the fact that the whole thing seems rather strange. On the other hand, there’s not much traffic at that time of night, so maybe the other drivers were simply lucky not to get in her way,’ Patrik said pensively. ‘But Pedersen could find no reason for the trauma in and around her mouth, so I think there’s sufficient reason for us to take a closer look at the whole thing. It might be an ordinary case of driving drunk, but maybe not. What do you think?’
Martin paused for a moment. ‘You said from the start that you had a funny feeling about this one. You think Mellberg will go along with it?’
Patrik gave him a look, and Martin laughed.
‘It all depends on how I present it, don’t you think?’ Patrik said.
‘Too right. It all depends on the presentation.’
Patrik laughed along with him and stood up. Then he turned serious again.
‘Do you think I’m making a mountain out of a molehill? Pedersen didn’t actually find anything concrete to indicate that it wasn’t an accident. But …’ he said, waving the faxed autopsy report, ‘at the same time there’s something about this that rings a bell. For the life of me I can’t …’ Patrik ran his hand through his hair again.
‘Let’s do this,’ said Martin. ‘We’ll start asking around and gather some more details to see where it leads. Maybe that will trigger your memory of whatever it is that’s bugging you.’
‘Okay, good. I’ll talk to Mellberg first though. Why don’t we drive out and have another chat with Marit’s partner later?’
‘Fine by me,’ said Martin, returning to the reports he was writing. ‘Come and get me when you’re ready.’
‘Okay.’ Patrik was already on his way out the door when Martin stopped him.
‘Wait a sec,’ he said hesitantly. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you how it’s going at home. With your sister-in-law and everything.’
Patrik smiled as he stood in the doorway. ‘We’re starting to be a bit more hopeful, actually. Anna seems to have begun to climb out of the abyss. Thanks to Dan.’
‘Dan?’ Martin said in surprise. ‘Erica’s Dan?’
‘Excuse me, what do you mean by “Erica’s Dan”? He’s our Dan now.’
‘All right, all right,’ Martin said with a laugh. ‘Your Dan. But what’s he got to do with it?’
‘Well, on Monday Erica had the bright idea to ask him to come over and talk to Anna. And it worked. They’ve started taking long walks together, just to talk, and that seems to be exactly what Anna needed. She’s turned into a whole different woman in just a couple of days. The kids are delighted.’
‘That’s fantastic,’ Martin said sincerely.
‘Yeah, you can say that again,’ said Patrik with a slap on the door jamb. ‘Look, I’ll go in and see Mellberg now to get it over with. We can talk more later.’
‘Okay,’ said Martin, returning to his paperwork; another aspect of the profession he could have done without.
The days dragged by. It felt as if Friday and his date for dinner would never come. It was strange to be thinking in these terms at his age. But even if it wasn’t a real date, it was still a dinner invitation. When Mellberg rang Rose-Marie he hadn’t had any plan worked out, so he surprised himself by suggesting they have dinner at the Gestgifveri. His wallet was going to be even more surprised. He simply couldn’t understand what was happening to him. Previously, the thought of going out to eat at such an expensive restaurant as Gestgifveri would never have crossed his mind. The fact that he was now prepared to pay for two – no, that was not at all like him. And yet he wasn’t bothered by it. To tell the truth, he was looking forward to gazing at Rose-Marie’s face in the candlelight as delicious dishes were set before them.
Mellberg shook his head in bewilderment, and his nest of hair slipped down over one ear. What had got into him? Could he be sick? He folded his hair back up on his pate and felt his forehead, but no, it was cool and showed no sign of fever. But something was going on. Maybe a little sugar would help.
His hand was already reaching for one of the coconut balls in his bottom desk drawer when he heard a knock on the door.
‘Yes?’ he called, annoyed.
Patrik stepped into his office. ‘Pardon me, am I interrupting anything?’
‘Not at all,’ said Mellberg with a sigh, taking one last look at the desk drawer. ‘Come on in.’
Mellberg had mixed emotions about this detective, who was much too young in his view, for all that he was pushing forty. True, he had conducted himself well during the recent homicide investigations, and he never showed any lack of respect for his boss, but Mellberg couldn’t shake off the sense that Hedström considered himself superior.
‘We got the report from Monday’s accident.’
‘Yes?’ Mellberg said, sounding bored. Traffic accidents were part of the routine.
‘Well,