at her.
‘He’s dead,’ Cia said again. She felt strangely calm, as if she were hovering above herself and her daughter, peacefully observing the scene.
‘You’re lying,’ Elin said, her chest heaving as if she had run several miles.
‘I’m not lying. That’s what the police think. And I know it’s true.’ When she heard herself say the words, she realized how true the statement was. She had refused to believe it, clinging to a faint hope. But the truth was that Magnus was dead.
‘How do you know that? How do the police know?’
‘He wouldn’t just leave us.’
Elin shook her head as if to prevent the idea from taking hold. But Cia saw that her daughter knew it too. Magnus would never simply up and leave them.
She took a few steps across the kitchen floor and put her arms around her daughter. Elin stiffened, but then relaxed and allowed herself to be embraced, as if she were a little child. Cia stroked Elin’s hair as the girl sobbed harder.
‘Hush now,’ Cia whispered, feeling her own strength grow as her daughter surrendered to grief. ‘You can go to Sandra’s this evening. I’ll explain to Grandma and Grandpa.’
Christian Thydell looked at himself in the mirror. Sometimes he really didn’t know how to relate to his own appearance. He was forty years old. Somehow the years had raced by, and he found himself gazing at a man who was not only grown up but who had even begun to go grey at the temples.
‘How distinguished you look.’
Christian jumped as Sanna appeared behind him and put her arms around his waist.
‘You scared me. Don’t sneak up on me like that.’ He extricated himself from her embrace and caught a glimpse of her disappointed expression in the mirror before he turned round.
‘Sorry.’ She sat down on the bed.
‘You look lovely too,’ he said, and felt even guiltier when he saw how the compliment made her eyes light up. But he also felt annoyed. He hated it when she acted like a little puppy wagging its tail at the slightest attention from its master. His wife was ten years younger, but sometimes it felt as if there were at least twenty years between them.
‘Could you help me with my tie?’ He went over to Sanna, who got up and knotted it expertly. It was perfect on the first try, and she took a step back to inspect her work.
‘You’re going to be a big hit tonight.’
‘Mmm …’ he said, mostly because he didn’t know what she expected him to say.
‘Mamma! Nils hit me!’ Melker dashed into the room as if a pack of wolves was after him. Looking for refuge, he wrapped his sticky fingers around the first things within reach: Christian’s legs.
‘Damn!’ Christian brusquely shook off his five-year-old son, but it was too late. Both trouser legs now had bright splotches of ketchup around the knees. He struggled to keep his temper – something that was proving more and more difficult lately.
‘Can’t you keep the kids in line?’ he snapped, demonstratively unbuttoning his suit trousers so he could change.
‘I’m sure I can clean that off,’ said Sanna as she grabbed for Melker, who was on his way towards the bed with his sticky fingers.
‘And how do you expect to do that, when I have to be there in an hour? I’ll just have to change.’
‘But I think I can …’ Sanna sounded on the verge of tears.
‘Look after the kids instead.’
Sanna flinched at every word, as if he had struck her. Without replying, she took Melker by the arm and hustled him out of the room.
After she left, Christian sat down heavily on the bed. He glanced at himself in the mirror. A tight-lipped man. Dressed in a suit jacket, shirt, tie, and underwear. Hunched over as if all the troubles of the world were resting on his shoulders. He tried straightening up and puffing out his chest. He looked better already.
This was his night. And nobody could take it away from him.
‘Anything new?’ asked Gösta Flygare as he held up the coffee pot towards Patrik, who had just stepped into the police station’s little kitchen.
Patrik nodded that he’d like some coffee and sank down on to a chair at the table. Ernst the dog, hearing that they were taking a break, came plodding into the room and lay down under the table in the hope some morsel would be dropped on the floor for him to lick up.
‘Here you go.’ Gösta placed a cup of black coffee in front of Patrik and then sat down across from him.
‘You’re looking a bit pale around the gills,’ said Gösta, studying his younger colleague.
Patrik shrugged. ‘Just a bit tired. Maja isn’t sleeping well and that makes her cranky. And Erica is totally worn out. Understandably so. Which means things haven’t exactly been easy on the home front.’
‘And it’s only going to get worse,’ said Gösta.
Patrik laughed. ‘Wow, that’s encouraging. But you’re right, it probably will.’
‘So you haven’t come up with anything new on Magnus Kjellner?’ Gösta discreetly sneaked a biscuit under the table, and Ernst happily thumped his tail against Patrik’s feet.
‘No, not a thing,’ said Patrik, taking a sip of coffee.
‘I saw that Cia was here again.’
‘Yes, it’s like some sort of obsessive ritual – but I suppose that’s not surprising. How is a woman supposed to act when her husband suddenly vanishes?’
‘Maybe we should interview some more people,’ said Gösta, sneaking another biscuit under the table for Ernst.
‘Who do you have in mind?’ Patrik could hear how annoyed he sounded. ‘We’ve talked to his family and his friends. We’ve knocked on doors throughout the neighbourhood, and we’ve put up notices and appealed for information via the local paper. What else can we do?’
‘It’s not like you to give up so easily.’
‘Well, if you’ve got any suggestions, I’d like to hear them.’ Patrik immediately regretted his brusque tone of voice, even though Gösta didn’t seem to take offence. ‘It sounds terrible to hope that the man will turn up dead,’ he added in a calmer manner. ‘But I’m convinced that only then will we work out what happened to him. I’ll bet you he didn’t disappear voluntarily, and if we had a body then at least there’d be something to go on.’
‘I think you’re right. It’s horrible to think that his body will float ashore somewhere or be discovered in the woods. But I have the same feeling you do. And it must be awful …’
‘Not to know, you mean?’ said Patrik, shifting his feet, which were getting hot underneath the heavy weight of the dog.
‘Well, just
