a life outside work, if we’re to believe his co-workers. At any rate, they couldn’t tell us much. He never mentioned any outside interests, or friends or girlfriends. Yet they describe him as pleasant and outgoing. It doesn’t really add up.’
‘Did he talk to them about his years in Göteborg?’
‘No, not a word.’ Gösta shook his head. ‘As Paula said, he apparently never discussed anything aside from his job and more general, ordinary subjects.’
‘Did they know about the assault?’ asked Patrik as he got up and began pouring coffee for everyone.
‘Not exactly,’ said Paula. ‘Mats told them that he’d had a bicycle accident and was in the hospital for a while. That’s hardly the truth of the matter.’
‘And his work – were there any problems on that front?’ Patrik set the coffee pot back on the counter.
‘He seems to have been very good at his job. They sounded extremely pleased with his performance. Apparently they felt it was quite a coup to hire an experienced economist from Göteborg. Besides, he had ties to the area.’ Gösta raised his cup and took a sip, burning his tongue. ‘Damn, that’s hot!’
‘So there aren’t any leads that we can follow up on?’
‘No, not from what we’ve found out so far,’ said Paula, now looking as dejected as Martin.
‘Well, I suppose that’s it for the time being. No doubt we’ll have occasion to talk to his work colleagues again. I had a talk with Mats’s parents, with pretty much the same results. He evidently wasn’t very open with them either. But I did find out that one of his old girlfriends is living on Gråskär out in the archipelago, and Gunnar thought that Mats had been planning to go and visit her. So I need to contact her.’ Patrik then placed the photographs from Sahlgrenska Hospital on the table. ‘And I got these from his parents.’
The pictures were passed around the table.
‘Jesus,’ said Mellberg. ‘He really took a beating.’
‘Yes. Judging by the photos, we’re talking about a case of aggravated assault. Of course it may not have anything to do with the murder, but I still think we should take a closer look at what happened. We need to request his hospital records and see what it says in the police report. We should also interview the staff at the organization that Mats worked for at the time. It’s interesting that the purpose of the group is to help women who are victims of domestic violence. Maybe we’ll find some sort of motive there. It would be best to go to Göteborg and talk to everyone in person.’
‘Is that really necessary?’ asked Mellberg. ‘There are no indications that he was shot because of what happened in Göteborg. It’s more likely connected to something local.’
‘Considering how little we’ve been able to find out so far, and how secretive Sverin seems to have been about his life, I think it’s certainly justified.’
Mellberg frowned as he pondered this. It took him a while to make up his mind.
‘Well, if you insist,’ he agreed eventually. ‘But I hope you get some results. Because it sounds as though you’ll be gone most of the day tomorrow.’
‘We’ll do our best,’ replied Patrik. ‘I was thinking of taking Paula with me.’
‘What should the rest of us do in the meantime?’ asked Martin.
‘You and Annika need to search the public records for references to Mats Sverin. Was he ever secretly married or divorced? Does he have any children? Does he own any property? Does he have a criminal record? Check for anything and everything.’
‘Okay, we can do that,’ said Annika, casting a glance at Martin.
‘And Gösta …’ Patrik paused. ‘Phone Torbjörn and find out when we can get into Sverin’s flat to take a look around. And try to put some pressure on him to speed things up with the technical report. With so little to go on, we need the results as soon as possible.’
‘Okay,’ said Gösta without much enthusiasm.
‘Bertil, you’ll still be here to hold down the fort, right?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Mellberg, sitting up straight. ‘I’m ready for the onslaught.’
‘Good. Then we’ll all start fresh tomorrow.’ Patrik stood up to signal that the meeting was over. He looked shattered.
Nathalie gave a start. Something had awakened her. She’d fallen asleep on the sofa and was dreaming about Matte. She could still sense the warmth of his body, the feeling of him inside of her. And she could hear his voice, which was so familiar, so reassuring. But apparently he hadn’t felt the same about her, and she could understand why. Matte had loved the Nathalie that she once was. The person she had become had disappointed him.
She was no longer shaking, and her joints had stopped hurting. Yet the restless feeling wouldn’t go away. It made her arms and legs prickle, prompting her to wander around the house as Sam watched her, his eyes wide.
If only she’d managed to explain why everything had gone so wrong. She’d told Matte some of it as they sat at the kitchen table. Confided in him the details that she could bring herself to say out loud. But she couldn’t bear to utter the words that would describe the worst humiliations. The things that she’d been forced to do and that had fundamentally changed her.
She knew that she was no longer the same person. And Matte had noticed. He had seen how ruined and rotten she was inside.
Nathalie sat up. She was having a hard time breathing. She drew her knees to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. It was so quiet, but suddenly she heard a thump against the floor. A ball. Sam’s ball. She watched the ball as it slowly rolled towards her. Sam hadn’t touched any of his toys since they’d come to the island. Had he climbed out of bed and started playing again? Her heart filled with hope until she realized that wasn’t possible. The door to Sam’s room was on her right, and the ball had come from the kitchen, on the left.
Slowly she got up and went into the kitchen. For a moment she was frightened by the shadows moving over the walls and ceiling, but her fear vanished as quickly as it had come. A great sense of calm settled over her. There was no one here who wanted to harm her. She was certain of that, even though she couldn’t have explained why.
Hearing a giggle from a dark corner of the kitchen she glanced in that direction and caught a glimpse of him. A boy. But before she could take a closer look, he moved. He raced towards the front door, and without thinking she followed. She tore open the door and felt the blast of wind in her face, yet she knew that the boy wanted her to follow him.
He was sprinting for the lighthouse. Every once in a while he would look back, as if to make sure that she was behind him. His blond hair was ruffled by the wind, the same gusts that were so strong they nearly took her breath away as she ran.
She had trouble pulling open the heavy door to the lighthouse, but that was where he had gone, so she had to get inside. She dashed up the steep stairs, hearing the boy moving about overhead, hearing him giggling.
But when she reached the top of the lighthouse, she found the round room empty. Whoever the boy was, he had disappeared.
‘How
