Chapter 69
Olivia looks down at her hands. However hard she tries, she can’t stop them shaking.
She is sitting at the table with Emil. He has begun to recover; he is breathing more easily, although he still sounds hoarse.
His throat is bright red, and the marks of Pontus’s hands are clearly visible on his skin.
“We need to call the police,” Olivia says.
Emil shakes his head. He is very pale. “I’m fine.”
Olivia glances at the sofa, where William and Amir are with Pontus. He has slumped back, his face hidden in his hands. Right now he doesn’t look particularly frightening, but a few minutes ago she thought he was going to kill Emil.
“He tried to strangle you.”
“He was drunk—you know what he’s like when he’s had too much to drink.”
Emil doesn’t seem to realize how horrible it looked, when Pontus was squeezing his throat and no one intervened. Olivia was convinced that Emil was going to die right there in front of her. That he was about to draw his last breath.
Just like Filippa.
The panic is still there; her heart is pounding; she breaks out in a cold sweat. She can’t do this.
“We have to call the police, for fuck’s sake!” she almost yells.
Emil sits up a little straighter, although it is obviously an effort.
“No,” he says firmly. “I’m not going to report him.”
Olivia really wants to understand how he’s thinking, but she doesn’t get it. Pontus has just tried to strangle him, and now Emil is prepared to forgive Pontus.
How is that possible?
“Why not?”
“It was an accident. Pontus would never have attacked me like that if he was sober.”
Olivia doesn’t find this remotely reassuring. Pontus has been drunk every single evening since they left Uppsala. What happens if he drinks even more? Would he attack Emil again?
Are any of them safe?
What frightens her the most is how quickly Pontus changed, the fact that he is capable of such rage. It’s as if there is another Pontus inside him, a horrible, more ruthless person.
A person who has shown his true face for the first time.
Olivia turns her head and looks over at the group on the sofa. Pontus is sitting in the middle, with William and Amir on either side.
Like two prison guards.
She had been so sure that Amir was guilty, that he was the one behind Filippa’s death. Could she have been wrong?
Is Pontus responsible?
What if he had assaulted Filippa when she was alone with him; what if he suddenly lost it? If he could attack Emil, he could have done the same to Filippa.
She turns back to Emil.
“That business with his computer—what did he mean? Had you gone through it?”
Emil sighs heavily.
“I happened to see his search history when you were all out. He’d googled some weird stuff, words that seemed to be connected to Filippa’s death.”
“And you told the police?”
A faint flush appears on Emil’s cheeks. “I did.”
“So why haven’t they arrested him? Why is he still here?”
“I don’t know. Maybe there isn’t enough evidence.”
Olivia is feeling more stressed by the minute.
“Can’t you see how sick this is? Filippa is dead, and Pontus has just attacked you. We have to contact the police, tell them what happened this evening.”
Emil shakes his head. “I can’t do that to him. He’s our friend.”
Olivia feels a stab of pain. She would like to remind Emil that Filippa was their friend too. But that didn’t make any difference. Filippa is dead.
She makes one last attempt. “Please?”
“Olivia, I’ve had enough.”
She realizes how pale and exhausted Emil is. His face is ashen; the marks on his throat are grotesque.
He will have livid bruises tomorrow.
He needs to get to bed, rest. Although how they are going to sleep after this, she has no idea.
In the absence of something better to do, she crouches down and carefully begins to gather up the shards of the broken plate. Then she fetches a dustpan and brush and clears up the rest before throwing the lot in the trash can.
She hears murmuring from the sofa. William and Amir are talking quietly over Pontus’s head. His eyes are closed now, as if he has fallen asleep.
Or simply shut down.
William comes over to the table. He takes a seat next to Emil and places a hand on his shoulder.
“How are you doing?”
Emil gives him a wobbly smile. “That was . . . weird.”
William is clearly shaken too. For once he sounds subdued, without his usual energy. His hair is ruffled, and his clothes are still untidy after the fracas.
He looks over at Pontus.
“He’s fallen asleep. He probably won’t remember anything tomorrow. He’s completely out of it.”
“We ought to call the police,” Olivia says, well aware that she is repeating herself. “What if he’d crushed Emil’s windpipe—he could have died!”
William seems to be as unreceptive to her anger as Emil. He glances at Emil, who waves a dismissive hand.
“I’ve already said I don’t want to report him. Just drop it, Olivia.”
“Pontus lost control,” William says. “He’d drunk way too much, and this entire day has been a disaster. First skiing the West Ravine, then the house search and more interviews. None of us are in a good place right now.”
This is the first time William has admitted that the Western was a mistake, which makes Olivia feel a little better. She just wishes he had said it directly to her, actually shown that he realized how hard it had been.
He looks into her eyes, as if he wants to apologize. Then he takes her hand and squeezes it. Olivia doesn’t pull away. She appreciates the gesture, the warmth of his fingers against her skin.
“Pontus’s computer—what was that all about?” William asks.
Emil gives him the same explanation he gave Olivia, and William looks troubled.
“I wasn’t accusing him,” Emil says. “But I had to tell the police what I’d seen.”
“You did the right thing,” Olivia reassures him. “You had no choice.”
Emil coughs. “But I’m not going to report him for assault on top of everything else. That kind of thing could destroy his whole life. He’d have a police record forever.”
Silence falls.
Olivia doesn’t know how to counter Emil’s argument; he is right, of course.
But still.
She looks at William. “Do you think Pontus could have attacked Filippa too?”
“I don’t know,” he answers hesitantly. “But I don’t like the sound of his search history.”
He starts to gather up the empty plates and carry them over to the sink. Olivia remains at the table. She glances at Amir, who is still keeping an eye on Pontus.
Amir has been vile to her all day. She was convinced it was because he was involved in Filippa’s death, but maybe it was simply a reaction to her harsh accusations over breakfast?
Maybe he was angry because he is innocent and felt he was being unfairly targeted?
She told the police it had to be Amir who had done something to Filippa, because who else could it be?
What if she was wrong?