minutes later, they were gone. And would most likely never return. In all probability she would now be blacklisted by that side of the family, but no matter how hard she tried Erica couldn’t say that she had any regrets. She wasn’t ashamed either, even though her behaviour could at best be called childish. It had felt fantastic to find an outlet for the aggressions that had built up over their two-day visit, and she had no intention of apologizing.
The rest of the day she planned to spend on the sofa on the veranda with a good book and her first cup of tea of the summer. All at once life seemed much brighter.
Although it was small, the dazzling greenery in his glass veranda could compete with the best of gardens. Each flower was tenderly cultivated from seed or a cutting, and thanks to the hot weather this summer the air was now almost tropical. In one corner of the veranda he raised vegetables, and there was nothing to compare with the satisfaction of going out to pick tomatoes, squash, onions, and even melons and grapes that he had grown himself.
The little row-house stood on Dinglevägen, near the entrance to Fjällbacka from the south. It was small but functional. His veranda stuck out like a green exclamation mark among the more modest plantings of the other row-house residents.
It was only when he sat out on the veranda that he didn’t miss the old house. The house where he had grown up and later created a home together with his wife and daughter. They were both gone now. The pain of their absence had intensified until one day he realised that he needed to say goodbye to the house too and all the memories that clung to its walls.
Of course the row-house lacked the character that he loved about the old house, but it was also the impersonality of his new lodgings that made it possible to ease the pain in his breast. By now his grief was mostly like a dull rumble constantly heard in the background.
When Mona disappeared he thought that Linnea would die of a broken heart. She was already sickly, but she proved to be of tougher stuff than he thought. She lived for ten more years. For his sake, he was sure. She didn’t want to leave him alone with the grief. Every day she struggled to continue a life that for them was only a shadow existence.
Mona had been the light of their life. She was born when they had both given up hope of ever having a child, and there were never any more. All the love they had was embodied in this bright, happy creature, whose laugh had ignited small fires in his breast. It was utterly inconceivable that she could just disappear like that. Back then it had felt as though the sun should have stopped shining. As though the sky should have fallen. But nothing happened. Life went on as usual outside their sorrowful abode. People laughed, lived, and went to work. But Mona was gone.
For a long time they lived on hope. Maybe she was still alive somewhere. Maybe she was living a life without them and had decided to disappear of her own accord. At the same time they both knew what the truth was. The other girl had disappeared just before Mona, and it was just too great a coincidence for them to be able to fool themselves. Besides, Mona wasn’t the type of girl who would deliberately cause them such pain. She was a nice, lovable girl who did everything she could to look after them.
On the day that Linnea died, he received final proof that Mona was in Heaven. The illness and the grief had reduced his beloved wife to a shadow of her former self, and as she lay in the bed and held his hand, he knew that this was the day he would be left alone. After hours of keeping vigil she had squeezed his hand one last time, and then a smile spread across her face. The light that was ignited in Linnea’s eyes was a light that he had not seen in ten years – not since the last time she had looked at Mona. She fixed her gaze somewhere behind him and died. Then he knew for certain. Linnea died happy because her daughter was the one who met her in the tunnel. In many ways it made the loneliness easier to bear. Now, at least, the two people he loved most were together. It was only a matter of time until he would be reunited with them. He looked forward to that day, but until then it was his duty to live his life as best he could. The Lord had little patience with quitters, and he didn’t dare do anything to risk his place in Heaven, where he would join Linnea and Mona.
A knock on the door interrupted his melancholy thoughts. Slowly he got up from his easy chair and ploughed through the greenery, leaning on his cane. He made his way down the hall to the front door. A serious-looking young man was standing outside, with his hand raised to knock again.
‘Albert Thernblad?’
‘Yes, that’s me. But I don’t need anything you’re selling.’
The man smiled. ‘No, I’m not selling anything. My name is Patrik Hedström, and I’m with the police. I wonder if I might come in for a moment?’
Albert said nothing but stepped aside to let him in. He led the way out to the veranda and showed the policeman to a place on the sofa. He hadn’t asked what this was about. He didn’t need to. He had been waiting for this visit for more than twenty years.
‘What amazing plants. It certainly takes a green thumb.’ Patrik gave a nervous laugh.
Albert said nothing as he regarded Patrik with his gentle eyes. He understood that it wasn’t easy for this policeman to bring him the news, but he needn’t have worried. After all these years of waiting, it was good to find out the truth at last. He had already done his grieving.
‘Well, the thing is, we’ve found your daughter.’ Patrik cleared his throat and started over. ‘We’ve found your daughter, and we can confirm that she was murdered.’
Albert merely nodded. At the same time he felt a peace of mind. Finally he could lay her to rest. Have a grave to visit. He would bury her next to Linnea.
‘Where did you find her?’
‘In the King’s Cleft.’
‘The King’s Cleft?’ Albert frowned. ‘If she was buried there, why wasn’t she discovered sooner? So many people go there, after all.’
Patrik told him about the German tourist who was murdered, and that they had presumably found Siv as well. They believed that someone had moved Mona and Siv there at night, but that they had been buried somewhere else all these years.
Albert didn’t go into town much any more, so unlike the rest of Fjällbacka he hadn’t heard about the murder of the young German woman. The first thing he felt when he heard about her fate was a lurch in his stomach. Somewhere someone was going to experience the same pain that he and Linnea had felt. Somewhere a father and a mother would never see their daughter again. That overshadowed the news about Mona. Compared with the dead girl’s family he was lucky. For him the grief had grown blunt and dull. But they had many years ahead of them before they reached that point, and his heart ached for them.
‘Do you know who did this?’
‘No, unfortunately, we don’t. But we’re going to do everything in our power to find out.’
‘Do you know if it’s the same person?’
Patrik hung his head. ‘No, we don’t even know that for sure, not as things stand right now. There are certain similarities, but that’s all I can say at this point.’
He looked uneasily at the old man sitting before him. ‘Is there anyone you’d like me to call? Someone who could come and keep you company?’
Albert’s smile was kind and fatherly. ‘No, there’s no one.’
‘Should I ring and hear whether the pastor can come over?’
Again the same kind
