our number.’
‘Why would he call you?’
‘How should I know?’ Jan threw out his arms. ‘Envy perhaps. We have plenty of money and that grates on some people. People like Anders are always ready to blame their misfortune on others, especially on people who have actually managed to make something of their lives.’
Patrik thought that sounded a bit far-fetched. It would be difficult to refute what Jan was saying, but he didn’t believe him for a minute.
‘I assume that you don’t still have those calls you mentioned on the answering machine tape.’
‘Unfortunately, no.’ Jan frowned in an attempt to look regretful. ‘Other messages were recorded over them. I’m sorry, I wish I could help you. But if he rings again I’ll make sure to save the tape.’
‘You can rest assured that Anders won’t be ringing your home again.’
‘Oh? And why is that?’
Patrik couldn’t tell whether his puzzled expression was genuine or phoney.
‘Because Anders has been murdered.’
A trail of ashes dribbled onto Jan’s lap from the cigar. ‘Anders was murdered?’
‘Yes, his body was found this morning.’
Patrik studied Jan closely. If only he could hear what was going on in Jan’s head right now, it would all be so much easier. Was his surprise genuine, or was he just an excellent actor?
‘Is the perpetrator the same person who murdered Alex?’
‘It’s too early to say.’ He didn’t want to let Jan off the hook just yet. ‘So you’re quite sure that you don’t know either Alexandra Wijkner or Anders Nilsson?’
‘I’m actually quite aware of the people I associate with and those I don’t. I knew them both by sight, but no more than that.’ Jan was again back to his smiling, calm self.
Patrik decided to try another line of questioning.
‘In Alex Wijkner’s home we found an article that she had clipped out of Bohusläningen about your brother’s disappearance. Do you know why she might have been interested in saving that article?’
Once again, Jan threw out his arms and opened his eyes wide as if to say that he had absolutely no idea. ‘It was the big topic of conversation here in Fjällbacka many years ago. Perhaps she saved the article as a curiosity.’
‘Perhaps. What’s your view about your brother’s disappearance? There are a number of different theories.’
‘Well, I think that Nils is having the time of his life in some nice hot country. Mother, on the other hand, is completely convinced that he met with an accident.’
‘Were you very close?’
‘No, I wouldn’t say that. Nils was quite a bit older, and he wasn’t entirely enchanted to have a foster brother to share his Mamma’s attention. But we weren’t mortal enemies either. I think we were mostly indifferent to each other.’
‘It was after Nils disappeared that you were adopted by Nelly, isn’t that right?’
‘Yes, that’s true. About a year later.’
‘And with it came half the kingdom.’
‘Yes, one could perhaps say that.’
There was only a bit left of the cigar, and it was threatening to burn Jan’s fingers. He stubbed it out brusquely in a gaudy ashtray.
‘It’s not exactly pleasant that it happened at the expense of someone else, but I can honestly say that I’ve paid my dues over the years. When I took over the management of the cannery it was going downhill. I restructured the whole company from the ground up, and now we export canned fish and seafood all over the world – to the United States, Australia, South America …’
‘Why do you think that Nils fled abroad?’
‘I really shouldn’t be talking about this, but a large sum of money disappeared from the factory right after Nils vanished. In addition, some of his clothes, a suitcase and his passport were all missing.’
‘Why wasn’t the missing money ever reported to the police?’
‘Mother refused. She claimed that it had to be a mistake, that Nils would never have done anything like that. You know how mothers are. It’s their job to believe only the best about their children.’
He lit another cigar. Patrik thought it was starting to get rather smoky in the little room but said nothing.
‘Would you like one, by the way? They’re Cuban. Hand-rolled.’
‘No thanks, I don’t smoke.’
‘That’s a shame. You don’t know what you’re missing.’ Jan studied his cigar with pleasure.
‘I read in our archives about the fire that killed your parents. That must have been terrible. How old were you? Nine, ten?’
‘I was ten. And you’re right, it was terrible. But I was lucky. Most orphans aren’t taken in hand by a family like the Lorentzes.’
Patrik thought it a bit tasteless to talk about luck in that context.
‘From what I understand, arson was suspected. Was anything else ever discovered?’
‘No, you’ve read the reports. The police never got any further with the case. Personally, I think my father was smoking in bed as usual and fell asleep.’ For the first time during the conversation he showed his impatience. ‘May I ask what this has to do with the murders? I’ve already said that I didn’t know either of the victims, and I can’t really see how my difficult childhood comes into this.’
‘We’re investigating even the smallest leads just now. The telephone calls from Anders to your home made me want to check it out. But it doesn’t seem to lead anywhere. I beg your pardon for taking up your time unnecessarily.’
Patrik stood up and held out his hand. Jan also stood and put down the cigar in the ashtray before he shook Patrik’s outstretched hand.
‘No problem, no problem at all. It was nice to meet you.’
Ingratiating as hell, thought Patrik. He followed Jan up the stairs, close on his heels. The contrast was sharp when he reached the extremely tasteful furnishings of the main floor. Too bad that Jan’s wife never got the number of Nelly’s interior decorator.
He thanked Jan and left the house with a feeling of having strained gnats and swallowed camels. For one thing, he felt as though he’d caught a glimpse of something in Jan that he should have been able to decipher, something that didn’t fit in with that lavishly decorated flat. For another, there was something not quite right about Jan Lorentz. Patrik returned to his previous thoughts. The guy was just too perfect.
It was almost seven o’clock and the snowstorm had gathered force by the time Patrik
