Chapter 43
The door is eventually opened by a tall young man with wavy fair hair. This must be Emil, Hanna realizes; she read up about the five friends and checked out their passport photos before leaving the station.
She explains that they have a few more questions, and asks if they can come in.
“There’s only me here,” Emil says apologetically. “The others have gone skiing.”
So the house is almost empty. That will make the search easier; it’s always trickier when people are home.
Carina will be pleased.
They go in and sit down at the dining table, where a couple of dirty coffee cups are left over from breakfast. Two large black metal lamps are suspended from the ceiling, creating a warm glow.
“We might as well get straight to the point,” Daniel begins. “We found out that you were convicted of assault in Ume?. Can you tell us what happened?”
Emil’s face flushes red. Hanna isn’t sure whether it’s down to embarrassment or anger, but she sees that he is clenching his fists hard.
“It’s a long time ago.”
“Four years.”
“I was just out of school.” Emil’s voice is quiet and troubled.
“Tell us what happened in your own words.” Hanna’s tone is friendly, she wants Emil to relax.
It takes a few seconds before he speaks.
“It was such a stupid thing. I was working part-time in a restaurant, in the kitchen, and one of my friends was in the bar when a customer started arguing with him. After the place closed they carried on quarreling outside. I tried to step in, and in the end I lost my temper too. Then everything got out of hand.”
“You headbutted him,” Daniel says. “And the court felt that this constituted considerably more violence than necessary.”
“Yes. I . . .”
Hanna and Daniel wait for Emil to go on. He runs his fingers through his hair a couple of times. Outside the window the fog is now so thick that it is almost impossible to see the Carlssons’ house.
“I have only vague memories of the incident,” Emil continues apologetically. “It was an instinctive reaction, somehow. As I remember it, the other guy tried to attack me and . . .” He spreads his hands in a gesture of resignation. “I just lost it.”
Hanna thinks he sounds as if he is telling the truth. He seems embarrassed and regretful—but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he is as innocent as he is trying to appear.
Can a single mistake be forgiven? Or is it the start of a pattern, the compulsion to turn to violence in difficult situations?
It could be an unlucky twist of fate that Emil did something dumb when he was a teenager and he is now involved in another criminal investigation.
Or not.
“I’ve never been the kind of person who gets into a fight,” Emil adds. “And after that I was much more careful with alcohol.”
“But you carried on working in hospitality?” Daniel asks.
“For a while. My parents weren’t too pleased about it, and I became more and more unhappy.
It didn’t exactly feel like a long-term career choice.
I’d started straight from high school, and eventually I realized I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life in a kitchen smelling of fried food.
So I sat the Scholastic Aptitude Test and managed to score enough points to get onto the economics course in Uppsala.
From the reserve list,” he says with a wry smile.
“Why didn’t you mention the assault conviction yesterday when my colleague interviewed you?”
Emil rocks back on his chair, so far that Hanna is afraid he is going to topple over.
“Because I was embarrassed.” He rocks forward again and sighs.
“And because I didn’t want the others to find out.
I haven’t told my friends in Uppsala about the court case; I guess I was hoping for a fresh start, in a place where no one had preconceived ideas about me. ”
“Was that the only reason?” Hanna says.
“The thing is, when Filippa was found yesterday . . . it seemed completely unreal.” He searches for the right words.
“Not only that she was dead, but that she . . . froze to death, outside in the snow. Just like that. One minute she was in here with us, partying, and then . . . then she was gone.” His shoulders slump.
“I was scared when you knocked on the door and said you wanted to question us. I thought you might suspect me of being involved if you found out about my conviction. I realize it sticks out like a sore thumb. The rest of them are so . . . decent, I’m the only one who’s done something really stupid .
. . I haven’t even told my parents about Filippa’s death yet.
It would only scare them. It was bad enough after the conviction, they were embarrassed to face the neighbors. I don’t want to worry them even more.”
“So you don’t think it was an accident?” Daniel says.
“I don’t know.” Emil suddenly sounds defensive. “I went to bed first, so I have no idea what happened after that.”
He is just as vague as his friends. Hanna wishes he could be more precise. Filippa is dead, and he is one of the people who was in the house during the hours before she died.
In general the friends’ statements are unclear. They all claim they went to bed without noticing anything in particular on Saturday night.
But the following morning a young woman lay lifeless in the snow.
Hanna refuses to believe that nothing happened during the time leading up to Filippa ending up outside in the cold. In which case surely at least one of them should have reacted.
One of them is lying; she’s sure of it.
“You must have an idea of your own?” she says, sharpening her tone. “I mean, you were here.”
Emil’s jaws are working; then he suddenly gets to his feet. “I want to show you something.”
He leads them downstairs to the lower floor. He goes into one of the rooms, where there is a large unmade double bed. Hanna notices that the place is a mess, with clothes everywhere and a suitcase lying open on the floor.
There is a laptop on one of the pillows.
“Is this your room?” Daniel wonders.
“No. It’s Pontus’s.”