Chapter 102
The walls of the interview room are as white as the rest of the police station.
Daniel glances at his watch; it is almost four o’clock. Time has flown since the fire this morning.
They are about to conduct the first formal interview with Pontus. Hanna is sitting beside him, reading a message on her phone. Her eyes are hidden by strands of hair that have escaped from her ponytail, but her complexion is gray with tiredness.
“What a day,” she sighs, putting her phone away.
Daniel can only agree. He is still shaken by the attack on Anton, and wants nothing more than a little peace and quiet. However, that will have to wait. Right now he has to find fresh energy.
The working day is not yet over.
There is a knock on the door, and Pontus is brought in by a uniformed officer. Since his arrest he has been given something to eat and the opportunity to have a wash. His face is clean but chalk white, with dark shadows beneath his eyes.
Daniel points to the chair opposite. Pontus sits down slowly. He almost seems out of it, as if he can’t quite grasp the difficult position in which he finds himself.
Hanna gives him an encouraging smile.
They have discussed their tactics in advance, and decided on the tried-and-tested good cop–bad cop scenario. It is Daniel’s task to play hard, while Hanna will provide consolation and establish contact.
It feels kind of old fashioned to opt for what some may see as outdated gender stereotypes, but it works surprisingly often.
Hanna reads out the usual introductory information for the benefit of the tape recorder. Pontus’s full name and ID number, names of other persons present, and finally the crimes of which he is suspected.
“Things aren’t looking good for you,” Daniel begins. “I hope for your sake that you’re prepared to cooperate; otherwise you really will be in a mess.”
“What you have done means that you risk many years in jail,” Hanna adds, but in a much kinder tone of voice. Her face shows nothing but sympathy, conveying the impression that she has Pontus’s best interests at heart, and understands the gravity of his situation.
Pontus closes his eyes.
From a purely formal point of view, he has the right to remain silent and to have a lawyer present, but Daniel is hoping they will be able to carry out the interview without Pontus demanding legal representation.
Otherwise they won’t be able to proceed until tomorrow, and they would probably have to transfer him to ?stersund; there is unlikely to be anyone locally who could step in.
Which would make everything more difficult.
Pontus opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. His lips are pale, and it looks as if he has been chewing them. A strangled sound emerges from his throat, something between a low groan and a sob.
Is he about to break down, after everything that has happened?
This wouldn’t necessarily be a disadvantage. Daniel just wants to get to the truth, find out what has gone on at the house on Nedre Svedjev?gen over the past few days. It is hard to take in the remarkable series of events, let alone understand it.
“Would you like some water?” Hanna asks.
Pontus nods, and she pours him a glass, pushes it across the table. He takes several gulps, clutching the glass so tightly that his fingertips turn white. The stress seems to be eating him up from inside.
And maybe a guilty conscience?
“Shall we begin with Filippa’s death?” Hanna says. “Can you tell me about your involvement?”
Daniel can hear that she is making a huge effort to sound compassionate, building up trust so that Pontus will relax and start talking.
It is often a relief for a person to admit their part in a serious crime.
Guilt plays on the mind of most people. There are very few—even among the most hardened criminals—who can live with what they have done in the long term.
In Pontus’s case it will be even harder. He is young, and hasn’t been in trouble before.
Meanwhile Daniel sits with his arms folded, a threatening reminder that he is going nowhere, while Hanna leads the questioning in a gentler tone.
Daniel is convinced that this is the best tactic to elicit a confession.
Pontus draws a ragged breath.
Then he opens his mouth.