Chapter 63
In time, a truth took shape about the landslide, and it revolved around Sten Persson, Killian’s father. Just about everyone knew he was behind the sudden explosion in the night, and the resulting disaster.
There were also other hypotheses, if that was the right word. One of them had to do with Filip, but Sander had always struggled to believe it, even though he had personally handed that piece of paper over to the cops.
“But Filip was at a party in ?rnilt when it happened,” he said to Jakob, who was currently sitting in his wife’s dedicated seat at the kitchen table.
Jakob was still holding the shirt. Now that he’d revealed its existence to his childhood friend, he seemed unsure of what to do next.
“But he couldn’t have been there all night. I saw him.”
“Are you sure it was him?”
“Well, no, not one hundred percent.”
“You think he would have tried to kill his own parents? Why?”
Jakob shrugged.
“Maybe something went wrong, it didn’t go the way he planned.
Or maybe he didn’t know they were at home.
I tried to ask his dad about it, maybe a year before he died, and I showed him the shirt, but it was no use.
The booze ruined Karl-Henrik, he didn’t even recognize me.
He thought I was some con man who wanted to steal his farm, which he didn’t even own anymore. Totally out of it.”
“So it’s true that he drank himself to death?”
“He had a heart attack. Untreated diabetes, but of course that was because he hit the bottle so hard.”
“Damn.”
“I know.” Jakob shook his head. “A whole family, just wiped out. Well, of course Lillemor is still alive, but, you know…I’m guessing you saw her at the funeral.”
“He didn’t say anything at all that time, though? Karl-Henrik, I mean.”
“He was absolutely convinced it was Sten.”
Sander’s gaze was firm and direct. “And it was, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Jakob said, folding the shirt gently. “Maybe this doesn’t mean anything.”
“Have you had it this whole time?”
“I didn’t know what else to do with it. For years I forgot I even had it.”
“You never considered turning it over to the police?”
“No, I did—years ago, when Alice and I were getting ready to move to our current place. I found it in a box and thought, well, what the hell, maybe I should give it to the police. Better for them to have it. But then I heard the Oskarstrom station had closed and Gerd Pettersson was retired. Siri, if you remember her, she didn’t stay.
I didn’t know who else to turn to, so I just never got around to doing anything.
I didn’t think about it much either, it was so long ago.
And everyone agreed Sten did it. But now that Filip…
oh, I don’t know. I just happened to think of it tonight.
You know, out there, everyone, I know it’s not a fresh wound or anything, like people sometimes say.
But it still hurts. So I just wanted to take care with this. ”
It still hurts. The words flew past Sander like sparks. If he reached out to touch them, his hand would be singed.
“Why didn’t you hand it over when you found it, though?”
“Everything was chaos after the landslide. I just never got around to it. Everyone wanted to move on.”
Sander watched him dubiously. Was that true? A thought flared inside him, a possibility he hadn’t recognized before.
“You should turn it over now,” Sander said. “There might still be traces on it.”
Jakob picked at the label on his bottle.
“Maybe that’s why I came here. To hear you say that.” He seemed to be considering his words carefully before he spoke again. “Didn’t Filip write something about blowing his house sky-high?”
“Kind of, but not in so many words. The police questioned Filip, I know, and after that they were pretty sure it was Sten.”
“Oh. Okay then. It’s a goddamn mess, in any case.” Jakob finished his beer and exhaled loudly, as if trying to expel something. “By the way, is it true you still haven’t been to his grave? Killian’s?”
“No. I’ve been there.”
“Good. That’s good for you, I imagine.”
“That’s what my therapist says too.”
“You go to therapy?”
“My wife thought we needed to. Apparently I have a hard time opening up about certain things.”
“That’s understandable, after everything you went through. Isn’t it?”
“Sure, but it doesn’t help. Understanding why you have problems doesn’t make those problems go away.
At least, not always.” He considered something, glanced at the bundle Jakob had placed on the table between them.
“That looks kind of large to me. Filip was pretty slight. Didn’t you have a shirt like that? ”
Jakob was taken aback.
“No, no. Filip did.”
“I seem to recall you did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Outside the kitchen window, the light was finally fading. Twilight over Halland.
Jakob had said something more, but his words were far off, muffled.
“What was that?”
“Oh, I was just saying, Filip too now. Almost makes you wonder who’s next. Or maybe you don’t think that way? Like it’s not actually over yet?”
Sander turned to face him. “Are you afraid?”
Jakob looked down. “I’m thinking about Alice and the children and so on. I’m not afraid, but…well, I guess I am a little. Aren’t you?”
He had survived once. Those few times an invisible hand had been about to suffocate him, he’d gasped for air and tried to make it look like he was breathing normally.
Survival: the most basic instinct. To think that it could bring about such a deep sense of guilt.