This was getting out of hand. Over the years Erik had taken many risks and stepped on plenty of people along the way. But he never would have foreseen something like this, or the terror that he now felt.
He turned to his computer and logged on to his bank’s web site. He needed to get an idea of the possibilities open to him. Thoughts were whirling through his mind, but he tried to focus on the amounts in his bank accounts so as to channel his fear into a plan, a means of escape. For a moment he allowed himself to ponder who could have sent those letters and most likely murdered Magnus. Evidently that person had now shifted attention to Kenneth. At least for the moment. Then Erik pushed those thoughts aside. It would serve no useful purpose to keep speculating. It could be anybody. Right now he had to save his own skin, take what funds he could and leave the country for some warmer place where no one could touch him. And stay there until this whole thing had blown over.
Of course he would miss the girls while he was away. But they were older now, and maybe it would make Louise pull herself together if she had the primary responsibility for their daughters instead of being able to lean on him. And he wouldn’t be leaving them with nothing. He would see to it that they had enough money in the bank to live on for quite a while. But Louise would have to get a job. It would do her good. After all, she couldn’t very well expect him to support her for the rest of her life. He had every right to do this, and the money that he’d saved up over the years would be sufficient to create a whole new life for himself. And keep him safe.
He had the situation under control; all he needed to do was take care of a few practical matters. For one thing, he needed to talk to Kenneth. Erik decided to go to the hospital in the morning and hope that his colleague would be feeling well enough to review some figures. Of course it was going to be hard on Kenneth, having to leave the company so soon after Lisbet’s death, and no doubt there would be some tiresome repercussions. But Kenneth was a big boy now, and maybe Erik was actually doing him a favour by forcing him to stand on his own two feet. The more he thought about it, this was bound to be good for both Louise and Kenneth, since he would no longer be available to hold their hands.
Then there was Cecilia. But she had already told him in no uncertain terms that she didn’t need his help, other than financially. And he should be able to set aside a small sum for her.
So that’s what he would do. Cecilia could take care of herself; they could all take care of themselves. And the girls would probably understand. Over time they would understand.
It had taken a long time to remove all the pieces of glass. Two still remained. They were so deeply embedded that it would take a more serious procedure to get them out. But everyone said that he’d been extremely lucky. The glass had missed the major arteries. Otherwise things could have gone very badly. That was exactly what the doctor had so cheerfully told him.
Kenneth turned his face to the wall. Didn’t they understand that this was as bad as it could get? If he’d had his way, the glass would have sliced through one of his arteries, cutting off the pain and taking away the evil in his heart. Purging the evil memory. Because in the ambulance, while the sirens wailed in his ears and he grimaced at every jolt as the vehicle roared along at high speed, he had suddenly understood. And he knew who it was that was hunting them. Who hated all of them and wanted to harm both him and the others. And who had taken Lisbet from him. The idea that his wife had died with the truth ringing in her ears was more than he could bear.
He looked down at his arms resting on top of the blanket. They were covered with bandages. His legs were too. He had run his last marathon. The doctor said that it would be a miracle if his wounds healed properly. But that didn’t matter now. He had no desire to do any more running.
He had no intention of running away from her either. She had already taken what mattered most to him. The rest was unimportant. There was some sort of biblical justice that was impossible to combat. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.
Kenneth closed his eyes and saw the images that he had banished to a far corner of his memory. After so many years, it was as if it had never even happened. Only once had the memories resurfaced. That was on that midsummer day when the whole thing had nearly fallen apart. But the walls had held, and he had suppressed those images once again, storing them away in the darkest recesses of his brain.
Now they were back. She had brought them out into the light, forcing him to look at them. And he couldn’t stand what he saw. Above all, he couldn’t bear knowing that this had been the last thing Lisbet had heard. Had it changed everything? Had she died with a black hole in her heart where her love had once been? Had he become a stranger to her at that moment?
He opened his eyes again. Staring up at the ceiling, he felt tears running down his cheeks. She could come and take him now. He wasn’t going to run away.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.
16
‘Out of the way, Fatty!’
The boys deliberately bumped into him as they passed in the corridor. He tried to ignore them, to be as invisible at school as he was at home. But it didn’t work. It was as if they had been waiting for someone like him, someone who stuck out, a scapegoat they could pick on. He understood. After spending so many hours reading books, he knew more and understood more than most kids his age. He excelled in all his classes, and the teachers loved him. But what good was that when he couldn’t kick a ball, run fast, or spit far? Those were the sorts of skills that counted, the talents that mattered.
Slowly he made his way home. He kept looking around to see if anyone was waiting to ambush him. Luckily he didn’t have a long walk to school. The route was filled with dangers, but at least it was short. All he had to do was go down the slope of Håckebacken, head left towards the wharf that faced Badholmen, and there was his house. The house they had inherited from the Old Bitch.
Mother still called her by that name. She had said that name with great satisfaction every time she discarded any of the old woman’s possessions, tossing them into the big rubbish bin they had placed in the yard when they moved in.
‘If only the Old Bitch could see this. Here go all her fancy chairs,’ said Mother, cleaning and clearing things out as if she’d gone mad. ‘Now I’m throwing away your grandmother’s china. See that?’
He had never heard why she’d been given that name: the Old Bitch. Or why Mother was so angry with her. Once he had timidly asked Father, but he had merely muttered a few vague words in reply.
‘You’re already home?’ Mother was combing Alice’s hair when he came in.
‘School was out the same time as always,’ he said, ignoring Alice’s smile. ‘What’s for dinner?’
‘You look like you’ve already eaten enough for the rest of the year. No dinner for you today. You can just live on your fat.’
It was only four o’clock, and already he could feel how hungry he was going to be. But when he looked at Mother, he could tell that it would do no good to protest.
He went up to his room, closed the door, and lay down on his bed with a book. Filled with hope, he stuck his hand under the mattress. If he was lucky, he might have missed something. But there was nothing there. She was very clever. She always found the food and sweets that he stashed away, no matter where he tried to hide them.
A couple of hours later, his stomach was growling noisily. He was so hungry that he was on the verge of tears. From downstairs came the smell of freshly baked buns, and he knew that Mother was making cinnamon rolls just so that the fragrance would drive him crazy with hunger. He sniffed at the air, then turned on to his side and buried his face in the pillow. Sometimes he thought about running away. No one would care. Alice might miss him, but he didn’t give a damn about her. She had Mother.