Chapter 39
As soon as the dark-blue Volvo parks in front of the house, ?ke senses that it’s the police, wanting to talk to him.
He is sitting in the wing-back armchair, reading the morning paper on his iPad when there is a knock on the front door. In spite of the poor weather, Peter and the boys have gone skiing, so only ?ke and Karin are home.
?ke adjusts his belt before he stands up. He doesn’t regret what happened, but he wishes he hadn’t lost control. He should have thought about the consequences first.
Although what that girl did was unacceptable.
Indecent.
Karin has opened the door, and a man and woman walk into the living room. They introduce themselves as detectives with the Serious Crimes Unit in ?stersund.
“Coffee?” Karin asks, so quickly that she almost speaks over them.
?ke wishes she would calm down. She is circling the two officers like an anxious herring gull, with nervous, flapping movements.
As if they have something to hide.
It is important to maintain their composure. Answer the officers’ questions just like any ordinary neighbor. The quicker this is sorted out, the sooner they will be left in peace.
“Not for me, thanks,” says the man called Daniel Lindskog.
“I’d love a cup,” says the woman—Hanna Ahlander. “With a drop of milk if it’s not too much trouble.”
Hanna and Daniel.
?ke has always had a good memory for names. Faces too. The two seem to be around the same age, and ?ke gets the impression that they are a good team, as if they have worked together for a long time.
They sit down at the dining table, which is parallel with the kitchen island. Karin serves coffee, as black as the granite countertops.
“I expect you’ve heard what happened next door,” Daniel begins. “Unfortunately a young woman was found dead yesterday—she was lying in the yard in front of the house.”
“It’s so terrible,” Karin says.
“It’s too early to say whether her death is due to a crime,” Daniel goes on, “but we were wondering if you noticed anything unusual at the property during Saturday night or the early hours of Sunday morning?”
?ke sees Karin glance in his direction. She knows how furious he was on Saturday, and that he went over to the Lowengrens’ in the evening.
Judging by her anxious expression, it’s his late visit she is worried about.
The consequences.
There is no point in hiding the matter. If he denies that part, he will simply arouse suspicions.
“There was a hell of a noise coming from there on Saturday,” he says grimly. “The music was so loud it was unbearable. In the end I had to go over and say something.”
Hanna Ahlander looks out the window that faces the neighboring property, as if she is trying to estimate the distance to the Lowengrens’ ugly house.
It looks just as awful as it always does, the big windows shining gray black in the daylight.
At this time it is impossible to see in through them, but as soon as the lights are switched on inside, the view is excellent.
You can see exactly what is going on in the huge living room.
“You’re pretty close to your neighbors,” Hanna says. “I can understand how the music would have disturbed you.”
No doubt she thinks he will open up, cooperate, if she shows a little sympathy.
He’s not that gullible.
“What time was it when you went over?” her colleague asks.
?ke knows exactly what time it was, but he doesn’t answer immediately.
“I think it was just before midnight.”
“Do you remember who was there? How many people were in the living room?”
?ke pictures the scene. The glasses and empty bottles, clothes all over the floor, the drunken, blank expressions on their faces.
Some of them could hardly stand up.
“There were six of them. Four boys and two girls, all in their early twenties, I’d say. They were all very obviously drunk; they didn’t show any judgment at all. You could almost predict that it would end in disaster.”
Hanna makes notes and sips her coffee. “Can you tell us about your visit? How long you were there, what was said? How did they respond when you asked them to turn down the music?”
Once again ?ke remembers the surge of rage he felt when the young people made fun of him. The girl who tried to grope him, the music pumping from the speakers.
The feeling of being under attack.
The memory makes him clench his jaw. That half-naked girl provoked him beyond the bounds of decency. There was something very wrong with her judgment; he knew that right away. And she was far from sober.
But that is no excuse.
Now she’s dead.
And she deserved it.
“Did anything in particular happen while you were there?” Hanna asks, as if she senses that ?ke is holding something back. “Was there an argument?”
?ke picks up an undertone of suspicion in her voice. He needs to explain himself, but would prefer not to go into detail. Whatever he says can be used against him.
“I went over and told them to turn down the music. That was it. Then I came back home.”
Daniel frowns. “We have witnesses who claim that there was a physical altercation between you and one of the young women—the one who died.”
?ke narrows his eyes. “What exactly are you implying?”
“I just want to understand what happened when you were there.”
“I didn’t do anything!” ?ke can barely control his anger. “However, one of the girls did lose her balance and fall over—probably because she was so drunk she couldn’t stand up. But it wasn’t my fault—they were all well gone. I’m sure they’d taken drugs as well.”
All these unpleasant insinuations. He should have been better prepared, realized they would show up, thought through his answers in advance.
He pushes back his chair to distance himself from the persistent police officer. The movement makes the chair legs screech along the floor.
“And then?” Daniel says.
“I’d had enough, so I left and came back here.”
“What did you do when you got home?”
“I went to bed.”
Daniel turns to Karin. “This is just routine, but I wonder if you can confirm that your husband came home and went to bed?”
“I often sleep in one of the guest rooms,” ?ke says before Karin can open her mouth. He is running out of patience, but tries to make an effort. What the hell has their private life got to do with the police? “So I don’t disturb Karin,” he adds.
“I understand. Is there anyone else who can confirm what you’ve told us? Your son is visiting—could he help?”
Are they going to drag Peter into all this? Seriously?
Karin glances anxiously at her husband again; he knows she doesn’t want him to lose his temper while the police are here.
“My son wasn’t awake at that time,” he says with an effort.
“Peter and the boys are sleeping downstairs,” Karin explains. “They’d gone to bed early because they’d had a long day traveling.” She picks up the coffee pot. “Refill, anyone?”
?ke can see how nervous she is; she spills a little coffee when she is topping off his cup. However, she has always been a loyal wife.
“You really do have a good view of the neighboring property,” Hanna says, gazing out the window. “Their house is so close you can almost touch it. Neither of you noticed anything else during the night? Or in the morning when you woke up?”
?ke shakes his head, but Karin leans forward as if she is about to say something; then she looks down at her lap again.
It only takes a second, but Hanna notices. “Did you see anything else you can tell us about?”
Karin stirs her coffee. “I don’t know if this has anything to do with the young people . . . but I got up in the middle of the night to fetch a glass of water from the kitchen.” She pauses, runs a finger around the rim of her cup.
?ke notes that the two police officers are deliberately waiting, rather than filling the silence.
“I thought . . . I thought I saw someone moving around outside the Lowengrens’ house.”
?ke is taken aback, but tries to hide his surprise. He thought Karin had slept through the night; she hasn’t said a word about getting up in the small hours, or seeing someone outside.
She should have mentioned this earlier so that he could have prepared himself. He can’t ask her to shut up now, not with the police sitting here—writing down every word that comes out of her mouth.
Hanna leans forward. “Are you sure? What time might that have been?”
“Around two, two thirty, I think.”
“Could you tell if it was a man or a woman?” Daniel asks.
Karin looks unhappy, as if she feels guilty about not being able to provide more information. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure . . . It was very dark, and it all happened so fast, my mind was elsewhere. But I got the impression it was . . . a man. In a dark jacket.”
Hanna gives her an encouraging smile.
?ke would like to tell her and her colleague to go to hell.
“No problem,” Hanna says. “But the smallest detail could be important. Please tell us whatever you can remember.”
“I think . . .” Karin hesitates again. “I mean, it was more of a feeling . . . but maybe the person out there was carrying something. As if he had a heavy sack in his arms.”