The Preacher. Camilla Lackberg
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Maybe she was living a life without them and had decided to disappear of her own accord. At the same time they both knew what the truth was. The other girl had disappeared just before Mona, and it was just too great a coincidence for them to be able to fool themselves. Besides, Mona wasn’t the type of girl who would deliberately cause them such pain. She was a nice, lovable girl who did everything she could to look after them.
On the day that Linnea died, he received final proof that Mona was in Heaven. The illness and the grief had reduced his beloved wife to a shadow of her former self, and as she lay in the bed and held his hand, he knew that this was the day he would be left alone. After hours of keeping vigil she had squeezed his hand one last time, and then a smile spread across her face. The light that was ignited in Linnea’s eyes was a light that he had not seen in ten years – not since the last time she had looked at Mona. She fixed her gaze somewhere behind him and died. Then he knew for certain. Linnea died happy because her daughter was the one who met her in the tunnel. In many ways it made the loneliness easier to bear. Now, at least, the two people he loved most were together. It was only a matter of time until he would be reunited with them. He looked forward to that day, but until then it was his duty to live his life as best he could. The Lord had little patience with quitters, and he didn’t dare do anything to risk his place in Heaven, where he would join Linnea and Mona.
A knock on the door interrupted his melancholy thoughts. Slowly he got up from his easy chair and ploughed through the greenery, leaning on his cane. He made his way down the hall to the front door. A serious-looking young man was standing outside, with his hand raised to knock again.
‘Albert Thernblad?’
‘Yes, that’s me. But I don’t need anything you’re selling.’
The man smiled. ‘No, I’m not selling anything. My name is Patrik Hedström, and I’m with the police. I wonder if I might come in for a moment?’
Albert said nothing but stepped aside to let him in. He led the way out to the veranda and showed the policeman to a place on the sofa. He hadn’t asked what this was about. He didn’t need to. He had been waiting for this visit for more than twenty years.
‘What amazing plants. It certainly takes a green thumb.’ Patrik gave a nervous laugh.
Albert said nothing as he regarded Patrik with his gentle eyes. He understood that it wasn’t easy for this policeman to bring him the news, but he needn’t have worried. After all these years of waiting, it was good to find out the truth at last. He had already done his grieving.
‘Well, the thing is, we’ve found your daughter.’ Patrik cleared his throat and started over. ‘We’ve found your daughter, and we can confirm that she was murdered.’
Albert merely nodded. At the same time he felt a peace of mind. Finally he could lay her to rest. Have a grave to visit. He would bury her next to Linnea.
‘Where did you find her?’
‘In the King’s Cleft.’
‘The King’s Cleft?’ Albert frowned. ‘If she was buried there, why wasn’t she discovered sooner? So many people go there, after all.’
Patrik told him about the German tourist who was murdered, and that they had presumably found Siv as well. They believed that someone had moved Mona and Siv there at night, but that they had been buried somewhere else all these years.
Albert didn’t go into town much any more, so unlike the rest of Fjällbacka he hadn’t heard about the murder of the young German woman. The first thing he felt when he heard about her fate was a lurch in his stomach. Somewhere someone was going to experience the same pain that he and Linnea had felt. Somewhere a father and a mother would never see their daughter again. That overshadowed the news about Mona. Compared with the dead girl’s family he was lucky. For him the grief had grown blunt and dull. But they had many years ahead of them before they reached that point, and his heart ached for them.
‘Do you know who did this?’
‘No, unfortunately, we don’t. But we’re going to do everything in our power to find out.’
‘Do you know if it’s the same person?’
Patrik hung his head. ‘No, we don’t even know that for sure, not as things stand right now. There are certain similarities, but that’s all I can say at this point.’
He looked uneasily at the old man sitting before him. ‘Is there anyone you’d like me to call? Someone who could come and keep you company?’
Albert’s smile was kind and fatherly. ‘No, there’s no one.’
‘Should I ring and hear whether the pastor can come over?’
Again the same kind smile. ‘No thank you, I don’t need a pastor. Don’t trouble yourself. I’ve lived through this day over and over again in my thoughts, so it doesn’t come as a shock. I just want to sit here in peace among my plants. I have everything I need. I may be old, but I’m tough.’
He placed his hand over Patrik’s, as if he were the one offering consolation. And perhaps he was.
‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to show you a few pictures of Mona and tell you a little about her. So that you’ll understand how she was when she was alive.’
Without hesitation the younger man nodded, and Albert hobbled out to fetch the old albums. For about an hour he showed Patrik photographs and told him about his daughter. It was the best hour he had spent in a long time, and he realized that it had been far too long since he’d allowed himself to retreat into memory.
When they said goodbye at the door, he pressed one of the photos into Patrik’s hand. It showed Mona on her fifth birthday, with a big cake and five candles in front of her and a smile stretching from ear to ear. She was delightfully sweet, with blonde locks and eyes that glittered with the joy of life. It was important for him that the police have this picture in their mind’s eye as they searched for his daughter’s murderer.
After the policeman had left, Albert sat down on the veranda again. He closed his eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of the flowers. Then he fell asleep and dreamed about a long, bright tunnel where Mona and Linnea were waiting for him like shadows at the end. He thought he saw them waving.
The door to Gabriel’s office flew open with a bang. Solveig stormed in, and behind her he saw Laine come running, her hands fluttering helplessly.
‘You shit! You fucking dick!’
He grimaced automatically at the choice of words. He had always found it extremely embarrassing when people showed strong feelings around him, and he had no patience for such language.
‘What’s going on? Solveig, I really think you should calm down and not speak to me that way.’
Too late he realized that the critical tone of voice, which came so naturally to him, only made things worse. She seemed about to fly at his throat, and for safety’s sake he retreated behind his desk.
‘Calm down? Are you telling me to calm down, you fucking prick? You limp dick!’
He could see that she was enjoying seeing him flinch at each sexual epithet. Behind her Laine was turning more and more pale.
Solveig lowered her voice a bit, but the tone was even more venomous. ‘What is it, Gabriel? Why do you look so dejected? You used to like it when I whispered dirty words in your ear. It used to turn you on. Do you remember, Gabriel?’ Now Solveig was hissing the words as she approached his desk.
‘There’s no reason to rehash the past. Do you have something to tell me, or are you just drunk and disagreeable as always?’
‘Do I have something to tell you? Yes, you can bet your arse I do. I was down in Fjällbacka and you know what? They’ve found Mona and Siv.’
Gabriel gave a start. Shock was written all over his face.
‘They’ve found the girls? Where?’
Solveig