‘Shall we phone Lennart to find out if he’s done yet?’ He took out his mobile.
‘No, no. He’ll call as soon as he’s finished looking at the documents. I’m sure he will.’
‘Okay.’ Martin put his mobile back in his pocket. ‘So what shall we do while we wait? Patrik didn’t leave any instructions. We can’t just sit here doing nothing, can we?’
‘I don’t know.’ Paula could feel herself growing annoyed. Why was she the one who was supposed to decide? She wasn’t much older than Martin and, besides, he’d been working at the station several years longer than she had, although she did have experience on the Stockholm police force. She took a deep breath. It wasn’t fair to take out her frustration on Martin.
‘Pedersen is supposed to deliver his report from the post-mortem today. I think we should start with that. I can ring him and find out if he has any results for us.’
‘Okay. Then maybe we’ll have something to work with.’ Martin looked like a happy puppy who had just received a pat on the head, and Paula couldn’t help smiling. It was impossible to stay annoyed with Martin for very long.
‘I’ll phone him now.’
Martin watched as she tapped in the number. Pedersen must have been sitting next to his phone, because he picked up on the first ring.
‘Hi. This is Paula Morales in Tanumshede … You have it? Oh, good.’ She gave Martin a thumbs up. ‘Of course. Just fax over the report. But could you give me a brief summary over the phone?’ She nodded and made a few notes on the pad of paper on her desk.
Martin craned his neck, trying to read what she’d written, but then gave up.
‘Hmm … I see … Okay.’ She listened some more and made a few more notes. Then she slowly put down the phone. Martin stared at her.
‘What did he say? Anything we can use?’
‘Not exactly. Mostly he just confirmed what we already knew.’ She looked down at her notes. ‘He said that Mats Sverin was shot in the back of the head with a nine-millimetre gun. One shot. He probably died instantly.’
‘What about the time of death?’
‘That was the good news. He was able to determine that Mats died sometime after midnight, meaning in the early hours of Saturday morning.’
‘That’s good. What else?’
‘There was no trace of any narcotic substances in his blood.’
‘Nothing?’
Paula shook her head. ‘No. Not even nicotine.’
‘He could still have been a dealer.’
‘True. But it does make you wonder …’ She looked at her notes again. ‘The most interesting part is going to be seeing whether the bullet matches any gun that we have on record. If there’s a link to some other crime, it will make it much easier to find the weapon. And hopefully the murderer.’
Suddenly Annika was standing in the doorway.
‘The Coast Guard just called. They found the boat.’
Paula and Martin exchanged glances. They didn’t need to ask Annika which boat she was talking about.
Everything was packed. The instant Madeleine received the postcard, she knew what she had to do. There was no longer any use trying to flee. She was aware of the danger that awaited them, but it was just as dangerous to stay here. Maybe she and her children would have a better chance if they went back voluntarily.
Madeleine had to sit down on the suitcase to close it. One suitcase was all she’d been able to bring. She’d had to pack an entire lifetime into it. And yet she’d been filled with hope as she boarded the train for Copenhagen with the children and that one suitcase. She had felt pain and sorrow about what she was leaving behind, but happiness about what might be ahead.
She glanced around the small one-room flat. A dreary place with only one bed where the kids had slept and a mattress on the floor for her. The flat didn’t look like much, but for a brief time it had been paradise. A safe place that was all their own. Until it had been transformed into a trap. They couldn’t stay here. Mette had lent her money for the tickets without asking any questions. Maybe she had bought them a death sentence, but what choice did she have?
Slowly she got to her feet, picked up the postcard, and stuffed it in her worn purse. She wanted to rip it into a thousand pieces and flush them down the toilet, watching them disappear. But she knew that she needed to keep the card as a reminder. So she wouldn’t change her mind.
The children were at Mette’s. They had gone over there after playing in the courtyard, and Madeleine was grateful to have a little more time to herself before she had to break the news that they were going home. That word did not have a positive meaning for them. Scars, both internal and external, were the only things they had ever received from their so-called ‘home’. She hoped they knew that she loved them, that she would never willingly do anything to harm them, but that she had no other option. If they were found here, trapped in this rabbit hole, none of them would be spared. She knew that for a fact. The only chance the rabbits had was to go back to the fox of their own free will.
It was time to leave. She could no longer put off the inevitable. Telling herself that the children would understand, Madeleine picked up the suitcase. She only wished that she really believed that.
‘I heard about Gunnar,’ said Anna.
She still looked like a fragile little bird, and Erica did her best to smile. ‘Don’t think about things like that right now. You have enough on your mind.’
Anna frowned. ‘I don’t know. Strangely enough, it’s good to feel sorry for someone other than myself.’
‘And it must be awful for Signe. She’s all alone now.’
‘How is Patrik doing?’ Anna tucked her legs under her as she sat on the sofa. The children were in school and the day-care centre, and the twins were taking their mid-morning nap in the pram just outside the front door.
‘He was pretty upset yesterday,’ said Erica, reaching for a cinnamon bun.
Belinda, Dan’s eldest daughter, had baked the buns. She had started baking when she had a boyfriend who liked the domestic type. He was now history, but she still enjoyed baking, and she certainly seemed to have a natural talent for it.
‘God, this is delicious.’ Erica rolled her eyes.
‘I know. Belinda is a great baker. And Dan says that she’s been wonderful with the other kids.’
‘Yes, she stepped in when she was really needed.’
Belinda looked quite fierce with her dyed black hair, black fingernail polish, and heavy make-up. But when Anna retreated from everyone, she had taken her younger siblings under her wing, including Adrian and Emma.
‘What happened wasn’t Patrik’s fault,’ said Anna.
‘No, I know that. And I tried to tell him that. It’s really Mellberg who should be blamed, but for some reason Patrik always feels responsible. He and Gösta were at Gunnar’s house when he shot himself. Patrik thinks that he should have seen the warning signs and tried to stop him.’
‘What warning signs?’ snorted Anna. ‘Nobody announces in advance that they’re planning to kill themselves. There were several times when I …’ She came to a halt and glanced at Erica.
‘You would never do anything like that, Anna.’ Erica leaned closer and looked her sister in the eye. ‘You’ve been through so much, more than most people, and if you were going to kill yourself, you would have done it long ago. You don’t have it in you.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘I know because you haven’t gone down in the basement to stick a gun in your mouth and pull the trigger.’
‘We don’t have any guns,’ said Anna.
‘Don’t play dumb. You know what I mean. You’ve never thrown yourself in front of a car or slit your wrists or taken a load of sleeping pills or anything like that. You’ve never done any of those things because you’re such a strong person.’
‘I’m not sure it’s strength,’ murmured Anna. ‘I think it would take a lot of courage to pull that trigger.’