Chapter 24
Olivia can’t get up from the sofa; she can barely raise her head. It’s as if someone else has taken over her body and robbed her of every scrap of strength and the ability to act.
Fifteen minutes have passed since the two detectives left. Through the window she can see new people standing around Filippa’s body on the ground. A stretcher has appeared, and it seems as if they are about to take her away.
Less than a year ago they graduated from high school together.
Celebrated the start of their adult lives with a champagne breakfast in the park.
The whole class was there, and she and Filippa had bought identical dresses.
They danced all night, and when one of Olivia’s high-heeled sandals fell apart, she carried on barefoot.
She wants to scream at the police, tell them they can’t take her best friend. Filippa needs to stay here, with Olivia, forever. Instead she sinks back against the cushions, shaking with cold. There is a blanket over the arm of the sofa, but she can’t summon up the energy to pull it over her.
Filippa is dead. She is never coming back. And the last thing Olivia said to her was those harsh words: Do what you want.
If only she’d known . . .
She wraps her arms around her chest and rocks back and forth.
William comes in from the kitchen with a mug of tea, which he tentatively offers her.
“You might feel better if you drink this.”
Olivia doesn’t understand how a cup of Earl Grey is going to make her feel any different, but she can’t bring herself to protest. She accepts the cup and takes a sip. William has added plenty of milk and honey, and she actually stops shivering as the warmth spreads through her body.
William isn’t usually this thoughtful if they’re not alone.
In fact she has seen this aspect of him on only a few occasions, when they’ve been studying in the library together with no one else around, or strolling in the botanical gardens.
When William is with his friends, the need to play the alpha male takes over.
He has to be in charge, dominate the group.
Showing his softer side could be interpreted as a weakness, and he can’t handle that.
She gives him a grateful look and takes another sip, but her hands are still trembling, and she spills some of the tea.
Amir and Emil come over to join them.
“So what did those cops want to know when they interviewed you on your own?” Amir asks after a while.
Olivia looks up. “What do you mean?”
“Like I said—what did they want to know?”
“They asked me when I last saw Filippa alive. And I told them.”
She doesn’t mention that she kept quiet about their disagreement, about the fact that Filippa was very drunk and Olivia lost her patience and left her to it.
It was too hard to tell the detective with the beard what had really gone on.
She didn’t want him to think badly of her, to see her as the kind of person who turned her back on her best friend.
She can’t really explain why that seems important; her emotions are all over the place.
A sob rises in her throat. If only she’d insisted that Filippa come back to the guest cabin with her instead of walking out. Then maybe none of this would have happened.
Amir looks around, focuses on Emil. “So what did they ask you?”
“The same thing. What did we do last night, what the atmosphere was like, what time I last saw Filippa.”
Olivia can hardly breathe when he says those words.
What time I last saw Filippa.
It sounds completely unreal.
Through the window she sees that Filippa is no longer on the ground, but there is a black plastic bag on top of the stretcher, which two police officers are wheeling away.
They are taking her.
A wave of dizziness comes over Olivia; she feels as if she is going to faint. She leans forward and clutches the armrest to stop herself from losing consciousness.
Amir has also noticed the activity outside. “I hope no one told the cops we were using?” he says, sounding stressed.
Olivia inhales sharply. “Did you give Filippa coke?”
Amir looks even more agitated.
“I didn’t exactly force her! I asked her if she wanted to give it a try, and she was up for it. Then she was the one asking for more. Several times.”
That was why Filippa behaved as she did last night, why she was so different from her normal self. Not only had she drunk a lot more than usual, she was high as well.
And that is Amir’s fault.
“Are you out of your mind?”
William places his hand on hers, but Olivia can’t control the anger that flares up.
“Filippa wasn’t used to drugs, she hardly ever drinks! How the fuck could you do that?”
Amir doesn’t like her tone. His eyes darken; he is just about to respond when William steps in.
“None of us needs to tell the cops that we took coke yesterday—we can keep that to ourselves.” He turns to Emil and Pontus. “All agreed?”
No one objects, and William seems to interpret this as a yes.
“I’ve flushed everything we brought with us down the toilet,” he adds, as if that is going to make things better.
Olivia can hardly bring herself to look at Amir.
William turns to Pontus. “What did they ask you?”
“Same. What happened during the evening, what time I last saw Filippa.”
There is something in Pontus’s tone that catches Olivia’s attention.
“This morning you said you fell asleep on the sofa, and no one was there when you woke up. So what time was that?”
Pontus blinks repeatedly. “I don’t really know. Maybe three or four, but I haven’t a clue. All I remember is that I was on my own, and the fire had gone out. I assumed the rest of you had gone to bed, so I went downstairs to my room.”
“So Filippa wasn’t here then?” Olivia pushes him.
“No.”
Olivia tries to think, although her head is scrambled. She’s pretty sure she went back to the guest cabin at about one, and Emil had already gone to bed by then.
“So who saw Filippa last?”
No response.
“William?”
“She was still sitting on the sofa with Amir when I went to bed. Pontus had already fallen asleep in the armchair.”
None of this makes any sense to Olivia. One minute everyone except Emil was in the living room. Then she left, then William. And Amir claims he also went to bed, even though they all saw him making out with Filippa on the sofa.
Which means only Filippa and Pontus remained in the living room—but he was so drunk that he’d fallen asleep.
What happened next?
Why would Filippa, wearing so few clothes, lie down in the snow in the middle of the night, when she could simply have gone back to the guest cabin? If she wasn’t spending the night with Amir.
Another question pops into Olivia’s mind. Where are the rest of Filippa’s clothes, including her padded jacket and boots, which should still have been in the hallway?
Olivia forgot to mention that to the police. She looks at the boys.
“I left at one o’clock. Filippa was here, and everything was okay. But when Pontus woke up, she was gone. Don’t you understand? Something must have happened in the meantime. Did you have an argument after I’d gone?”
No one answers.
No one meets her gaze.
“Why do you think she went out into the snow without getting dressed? Why would she do that?”
Then Olivia remembers something else. When she came over from the cabin to the main house this morning, she only had to push down the handle to open the front door.
It wasn’t locked.
Which means that anyone, a stranger, could have come in under the cover of darkness.
And done something to Filippa.