Chapter 55
Anton has gone into his office and sat down at his desk, where various documents are arranged in neat piles. He likes to have order around him, one of the few things he has in common with his father. Otherwise they have a very fractious relationship.
He hears the odd burst of laughter from a group of uniformed colleagues who are having a snack in the kitchenette.
Anton would have been perfectly happy to go up to Sadeln, but he knows that Daniel and Hanna are probably the best combination.
Three is one too many, and Hanna is adept at dealing with young people.
She is a good interviewer; she has taken a number of psychology courses at the university, and has also been involved in hostage negotiations.
This is Anton’s first major investigation since he formally transferred to the Serious Crimes Unit. He taps on one of the piles of papers with his knuckles. He knows he will have the opportunity to show what he can do; he will just have to be patient.
Although sometimes that can be difficult.
More laughter from the kitchenette. What’s so funny? Anton isn’t exactly in the mood for hilarity. Thoughts of Carl are lurking in the back of his mind. Should he call him, try to talk through last night?
He takes out his phone, brings up his contacts. Carl’s name is at the top, marked as a favorite, easy to access.
At that moment the screen lights up with an incoming call.
It’s his father.
Anton’s stomach turns over.
He only calls when he wants something. And he never wastes time on small talk, especially not when Anton is at work.
What is it today?
Anton answers on the third ring, even though he would rather let the call go to voicemail.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Anton, it’s your father.”
The voice is as brusque as always. And as loud.
His father retired from his post as a lieutenant colonel in the army a few years ago, but he still seems to think that every conversation must be conducted in his parade ground voice, as if he needs to be heard by a hundred recruits rather than just his son on the other end of the line.
He probably isn’t even aware that he routinely bellows at everyone around him.
In order to spare his hearing, Anton places the phone on the desk and switches on the speaker at the lowest volume. His office door is closed, so there is no risk that his father will disturb his colleagues.
“So I see,” he replies, keeping his tone neutral.
“Re Karro’s birthday celebration on Sunday,” his father barks. “We’ll see you then. Fifteen hundred hours.”
Also typical—the insistence on giving the time with military precision.
“I know when we’re supposed to be there.”
Anton has to make a real effort to keep the irritation out of his voice. They look quite similar. He has inherited his father’s facial features, and their physique is almost identical, not very tall but muscular, and they both have fair hair. But inside they couldn’t be more different.
He has always had a problem with his father’s bluntness; he himself is more circumspect, more considerate. His father assumes that he is the center of the universe, while Anton rarely feels the need to dominate a group of people.
The fact that Anton also likes music and plays the saxophone in a jazz band has been a constant source of irritation for his father, who is tone deaf and prefers to spend his time hunting and fishing.
His mother has had to mediate between the two of them on countless occasions.
His father clears his throat.
“Karro’s birthday—it’s purely a family occasion, as I’m sure you realize. The children will be there too.”
Obviously his sister’s children will be at their mother’s birthday party. Anton tries to work out what his father is getting at.
“And?”
“That’s all I wanted to say. That we’re keeping it in the family. It’s for the best.” A strained silence follows. Anton doesn’t know what to say. “Goodbye.”
His father ends the call.
What the hell was that about?
Anton hasn’t dared to introduce Carl to his family yet, but they have been out and about in the village together.
Has his father heard something? ?re is a small community; Duved is even smaller. People might have seen them, and maybe the rumors have started.
Was this his father’s clumsy attempt to make it clear that he knows about the relationship but doesn’t want it made official?
Was he trying to tell Anton that Carl is not welcome in the family home?
Surely he can’t be taking a stand yet, when Anton hasn’t even plucked up the courage to talk to his parents about Carl?
He is filled with anger and despair, there are so many emotions that he suddenly wants to express. With a half-muffled scream he slams his hand down hard on the desk.
It hurts a lot, but not as much as the suspicion that his father is not prepared to accept who Anton really is.