The Preacher. Camilla Lackberg
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off. ‘What’s his name, Anna?’
The resistance inside her was breaking down more with each second she heard his voice on the phone. Quietly she replied, ‘Gustav af Klint.’
‘Oh, right. How posh can you get?’ His voice switched from scornful to low and threatening. ‘How dare you take my children on holiday with another man.’
‘We’re divorced, Lucas,’ Anna said. She put her hand over her eyes.
‘You know as well as I do, that doesn’t change a thing, Anna. You’re the mother of my children, and that means you and I will always belong together. You are mine and the children are mine.’
‘So why are you trying to take them away from me?’
‘Because you’re unstable, Anna. You’ve always suffered from weak nerves, and to be honest, I don’t trust you to take care of my children in the manner they deserve. Just look at how you live. You work all day and they’re at day care. Do you think that’s a good life for the children, Anna?’
‘But I have to work, Lucas. And how were you planning to solve the problem if you took care of the children? You have to work too. Who would take care of them then?’
‘There is a solution, Anna, and you know what it is.’
‘Are you mad? Do you think I’d go back to you after you broke Emma’s arm? Not to mention everything you did to me?’ Her voice rose to a falsetto. Instinctively, she knew at once that she had gone too far.
‘It wasn’t my fault! It was an accident! Besides, if you hadn’t been so stubborn and kept fighting me, I wouldn’t have needed to lose my temper so often!’
It was like talking to thin air. There was no use. After all her years with Lucas, she knew that he believed what he said. It was never his fault. Everything that happened was someone else’s fault. Every time he hit her he had made her feel guilty because she couldn’t be understanding enough, loving enough, submissive enough.
Drawing on previously hidden reserves of strength, she had finally managed to divorce him. That had made her feel strong, invincible, for the first time in years. Finally she would be able to regain control of her own life. She and the children would be able to start over from scratch. But everything had gone a little too smoothly. Lucas had actually been shocked that he had broken his daughter’s arm in a fit of rage, and he had been uncharacteristically amenable. His busy bachelor life after the divorce had also meant that he had let Anna and the children live in peace, while he was making one conquest after another. But just when Anna had felt that she had managed to escape, Lucas had begun to tire of his new life, and once again he turned his gaze to his family. When he had no luck with flowers, gifts and entreaties for forgiveness, the silk gloves had come off. He demanded sole custody of the children. To support his claims he had a multitude of baseless accusations concerning Anna’s unsuitability as a mother. None of it was true, but Lucas could be so convincing when he turned on the charm that she still trembled at the possibility that he might succeed in his attempt. She also knew that it really wasn’t the children he wanted. His business life would not function if he had custody of two small children, but his hope was to frighten Anna enough to make her come back. In weaker moments she was prepared to do just that. At the same time she knew that it was impossible. It would destroy her. So she steeled herself.
‘Lucas, it does no good to have this discussion. I’ve moved on since the divorce, and you should too. It’s true that I’ve met a new man, and that’s something that you’ll just have to learn to accept. The children are doing fine and I’m doing fine. Can’t we try to deal with this like adults?’
Her tone was entreating, but the silence on the other end was impenetrable. She knew that she’d crossed the line. When she heard the dial tone and realized that Lucas had simply hung up, she knew that he was going to make her pay in some way. And dearly.
4
SUMMER 1979
The hellish ache in her head made her dig her fingers into her face. The pain of her nails tearing long gashes in her skin was almost satisfying compared with the splitting headache, and it helped her to focus.
Everything was still black, but something had made her wake from her deep, dreamless torpor. A tiny crack of light appeared above her head, and while she was squinting upwards it slowly widened. Unused to light as she was, she did not see but rather heard someone come through the crack that had widened to an opening and climb down the stairs. Someone who came closer and closer in the dark. The confusion made it hard for her to decide whether to feel fear or relief. Both feelings were there, mixed together. First one prevailed, then the other.
The last footsteps coming towards her, where she lay curled up in a foetal position, were as good as soundless. Without a word being spoken, she felt a hand stroke her over the forehead. Perhaps that gesture ought to have been soothing, but the simplicity of the movement made terror take a tight grip on her heart.
The hand continued its way along her body, and she trembled in the darkness. For a second, it occurred to her that she ought to put up some resistance against the faceless stranger. The thought vanished as rapidly as it appeared. The darkness was too overwhelming, and the strength in the hand that caressed her penetrated her skin, her nerves, her soul. Submission was her only option, she knew that with a terrifying insight.
When the hand changed from caressing to prising and twisting, pulling and tearing, she was not at all surprised. In a way she welcomed the pain. It was easier to handle the certainty of pain rather than the terror of waiting for the unknown.
The second call from Tord Pedersen had come just a couple of hours after Patrik spoke with Martin. They had a positive ID on one skeleton. Mona Thernblad, the second girl who disappeared in 1979, was one of the bodies found in the King’s Cleft.
Patrik and Martin sat together and went over the information they had gathered during the investigation. Mellberg was conspicuous by his absence, but Gösta Flygare was back on the job after an excellent performance in the golf tournament. He hadn’t won the competition, of course, but to his great surprise and joy had made a hole-in-one and was invited for champagne at the clubhouse. So far Martin and Patrik had heard in great detail about how the ball went straight into the hole with one stroke on the 16th hole. They had no doubt they would hear the story several more times before the day was over. But that didn’t matter. They didn’t begrudge Gösta his joy, and Patrik let him have an hour before they involved him in the investigative work. So for the moment Gösta was ringing round to all his golf buddies to tell them about the Big Event.
‘So it’s some devil who breaks the girls’ bones first before he murders them,’ said Martin. ‘And cuts them with a knife,’ he added.
‘I’m afraid that’s what it looks like. If I were to guess, I’d say there was certainly some sexual motive behind it. Some sadistic fuck who gets off on other people’s pain. The fact that there was semen on Tanja’s body indicates that as well.’
‘Are you going to talk to Mona’s relatives? Tell them that we found her, I mean?’
Martin looked uneasy, but Patrik calmed his fears by taking on the task himself.
‘I thought I’d drive out and see her father this afternoon. Her mother died years ago, so her father is the only one left to notify.’
‘How can you be so sure? Do you know them?’
‘No, but Erica was at the library in Fjällbacka yesterday looking up everything that was written in the press about Siv and Mona. Their disappearances have been reviewed periodically, and there was even an interview with the families a couple of years back. Only Mona’s father is still alive, and Siv only had her mother when she went missing. There was a little daughter