Killer's Island Page 6

  The afternoon moved along at a snail’s pace. He avoided coffee to minimize his cigarette cravings. The caffeine shortage gave him a headache and when Erika met him at the end of the day he was not at his best.

  Erika noticed that Anders was less than peppy at once and quickly said, “I missed you,” while slipping her arm under his and looking at him intently. Maybe he didn’t want his colleagues to see them? It was all so new. There was no guarantee. He had probably not even told them he’d met someone. “They didn’t want to let me in because I hadn’t booked a time, so I said I was your lifestyle coach. The goal is a new and better life.”

  He shrugged his shoulders, feigning indifference.

  “Not my fault I’m so immeasurably popular. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “What do you want to do?” Erika smiled at him. She’d been looking forward to the evening. Rushing home like a lunatic from work to have time to shower, get changed and fix her hair. He was worth it, although he looked as if he’d been sleeping in his clothes. His shirt under the doctor’s coat was wrinkly and she felt that his hair was all sweaty at the neck when they kissed outside the foyer. He tasted of smoke. A letdown.

  “Hm… I can’t think of anything much.” When he saw Erika’s face he laughed uproariously. “I’ll do anything as long as I can do it with you.”

  “Where’s Julia, then?” Erika found herself wishing that his daughter could spend the night somewhere else.

  “At the stables. I’m picking her up at ten o’clock. So we have four whole hours to spend together.” He looked so full of anticipation that Erika couldn’t stop herself from laughing at him, even though deep down she was disappointed. So nothing would happen tonight, either. And she’d made up the bed with clean linen, bought fresh-squeezed juice and freshly baked bread for breakfast.

  “Tell me about your daughter.” Erika thought she might as well find out about her number one competitor for Anders’s favor.

  “She’s like most eleven-year-olds. A child but sometimes far too grown up. She likes horses and soccer. Finds it a bit difficult making friends at school. But there’s a teaching assistant who means a lot to her and who’s trying to help her find her feet. He’s not officially there for her, but he’s taken her on. Otherwise it’s just always been us. So it might be a little difficult for her, you turning up. We have to take it a bit easy.”

  “What about her mother?” Erika was relieved to be able to ask the question. He had never mentioned another woman or whether he was married. It worried her slightly. Discretion in front of the daughter and not a word about the mother, it gave her bad vibes.

  “You want to see a photo of Julia, so you recognize her if you bump into her in town?” He opened his wallet. There were two photos of Julia. A chubby baby in a cap and diapers; then a very pretty young lady on the back of a horse.

  Erika commented on the photos and repeated her question. How typical if he were taken. Of course that was it, that was exactly it! He was too good to be true. The least he could do was come clean about it so she could decide whether to stay with it or walk away. Several times that day while sitting by the computer at the police station she’d come close to opening the registers to check him out. It had been very tempting, but the prospect of punishment if she were caught dissuaded her.

  “Julia’s mother is called Isabel. She’s not alive any more.”

  “I’m really sorry. What happened?” Erika immediately noticed the change in his face. Maybe she’d gone too fast here. This was not something he wanted her to start digging in.

  “Let’s talk about it another time. Have you got any plans? What shall we do? Oh, did I say… you’re looking lovely. And you smell good, too.”

  She would have liked to suggest wild and passionate sex in the cottage she was renting in Lummelunda. An artist’s studio with big windows and a generous view of the sea since they cleared the vegetation on the ridge. But she didn’t dare say it, not yet.

  “Maybe we can find some cozy café with outside tables.”

  They climbed Hästbacken until Adelsgatan, then strolled down the pedestrianized street. Anders stopped by the bookshop window. He pointed at a book in the window. Myths and Legends of Gotland.

  “I have to buy that. It won’t take a minute.”

  He came back with two copies.

  “One for you and one for me. Read it and then I’ll tell you something afterward.”

  “Anything special I should read?”

  “The mermaid,” he said, observing her with a slight tension. This was clearly something important for him, but she chose not to ask any more questions for now.

  They decided on the Crêperi on Wallers Plats and ordered a beer each and a pancake baked with spelt wheat, blueberry jam, and cream. The evening sun was pleasantly warming, and their view over the town quite spectacular. They talked about travel, cooking, and work. As soon as Erika tried to move one step closer, talking about family and friends, Anders grew silent and distracted.

  “Sorry, I’m not quite myself – and it’s all your fault.”

  “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Erika really wasn’t sure.

  “I’m trying to stop smoking. As soon as anyone lights up and I catch the smell I’m toast. But I’m going to make an honest attempt for your sake.”

  “I want you to do it for your own sake, the decision has to be your own.” Erika didn’t want to be some kind of moral guardian.

  “If you’re going to get out of drug dependence you have to have an antidote. The best antidote is falling in love.” His eyes latched onto hers.

  “And are you? In love?” she asked, laughing away the seriousness.

  “Yes, I’ve never met anyone like you. I think about you all the time, Erika. The first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thought in my head before I fall asleep is you.”

  Amazing that such jaded phrases could sound so fresh. She wanted to believe him and, against her will, she took in every word.

  “I feel the same.” She took his outstretched hand in hers. He still wore his wedding ring on his finger. It made her wonder, but she did not want to ruin the magic moment by asking.

  Right at that moment, Anders’s cell phone gave off a jazzy melody.

  “What? Pick you up now? But we said ten o’clock… all right, then… all right! No, you don’t have to go back by yourself.”

  Erika gave him a quizzical look.

  “That was Julia. She had an argument with the girls at the stable and wants to be picked up earlier than we said. I’m sorry, Erika, this is how my life looks at the moment. It’s all very intense at that age. The girls are best friends and love each other more than anything else in the world, and then suddenly it’s all over and they hate each other. I suppose they’re training for the adult world. Julia seems to have particular problems finding someone to be close to. I don’t want her to walk home on her own. You’re a police officer, so you probably understand you can’t let a girl on her own go through town when there are gang fights and whatnot happening.”

  “No, of course, you have to pick her up. You’re not taking the car, are you?”

  “You’re right, I’ll have to ask her to take a cab and then meet her at home. She probably wants to talk for a while… or not. Sometimes she just locks herself in her room and won’t come out until the next day. It’s not entirely easy being a father.” He grew silent. “Did you catch the people who assaulted that young boy and Maria Wern? I read in the paper that he died and she was stabbed with a bloody syringe. His poor parents and poor her. How is she coping?”

  “It’s hard. Maria is my best friend. I’m going through it with her. The case is top priority. We have to find out if the syringe was infected. The worst thing is, we don’t seem to have any witnesses. People don’t want to get involved, they’re scared or don’t want any trouble.”

  “Terrible.” Anders paid the bill and they started walking toward Österport. “Next time it could be them in trouble. Do you have any l
eads on who did it?”

  “Sorry, but I can’t say anything about that. Just like you, I’m sworn to silence.” She put her finger to her mouth and kissed it, before touching his mouth. I want you for real, she thought. But she still did not have the courage to say it out aloud.

  CHAPTER 8

  ERIKA LUND SAT in the hammock watching the sun slowly sinking over the edge of the ridge, and the sky turning blood-red. The sea lay still and reflective. But under the calm surface there were dangerous currents, a downward suction of water where the sea grew deeper – it could pull even the most experienced of swimmers under. There were many frightening stories and myths about that. One of these was the story of the mermaid, which Anders had encouraged her to read. Erika closed the book and reflected.… Was that how she had died, his wife, Isabel?

  The fable told of a young, happy couple on their wedding night, taking a refreshing dip after all the dancing. They swam right out into the moonlit water when suddenly the bride was pulled down by the undertow. The man could not save her, despite his frantic efforts. She’d gone and did not come back. But in his dream they met again that night and she told him that if he ever remarried she’d come and take him out into the abyss. They had promised each other eternal fidelity and he must keep his promise or die. Time passed and he forgot the dream and then one day he met a woman he wanted to live with. Just as the priest was about to wed them, a blindingly beautiful woman entered the church and everyone was as if turned to stone. Neither the bride nor the priest could do anything to help the man. Passively the man was led by the mermaid’s hand into the sea. Later he was found drowned.

  Erika had heard variations of the story in different parts of Gotland’s west coast. An old man in the fishing village in Gnisvärd had recounted the following version of it: Four men were sitting one night in Captain Pettson’s cottage waiting for dawn, when they were going out to take up their nets. One of the fishermen was a young man, the others were old hands. They drank coffee laced with schnapps and swapped stories about women and the supernatural. Maybe somehow with all their tales they managed to call up a spirit from the past – one of the unfortunate individuals who’d been drowned in the waves. When the young man went around the corner to relieve himself he saw a line of gossamer-fine mist gliding over the grass. He followed it to see what it was and was gripped by an eerie, compulsive feeling. The mist became a shadow, then a figure. He had to follow the creature. When the white mermaid turned around and smiled at him, he saw that she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She was so wonderful that nothing else mattered to him at all, and she enticed him down toward the beach. He could not lose sight of her, because if she disappeared she’d take the whole meaning of life with her. He’d known this from the first moment he looked into her sea-green eyes.

  The old men realized something was wrong when the boy didn’t come back. Had he got himself into a fight or maybe he’d fallen asleep out there? Perhaps he couldn’t hold his drink so well? They went out to look for him. When they found him he was in the water up to his armpits and his black hair had turned white as chalk. He was never himself again. Gone was the lively, fun-loving young man, in his place a taciturn old man staring into the far distance, beyond what any ordinary mortal could see. Not mad, not wise either. Just strange.

  What was Anders trying to tell her? That he’d lost his wife in a drowning accident and had been unable to save her? Surely he couldn’t be so superstitious that he believed a story like this – or would avoid starting a new relationship for such a reason? Most likely it was about guilt. The guilt of carrying on living after the death of a person one loved deeply. And all the what-ifs… if one had done this it wouldn’t have happened and if one had done that she might have been saved. Why couldn’t he just tell her straight? Why did he have to take this detour of a book of folk tales?

  Erika decided to call him and say good night. Maybe if she did, he’d tell her what had happened. She went inside and fetched the cell phone from her jacket pocket, then sat on the bench against the house wall. Her neighbor, Sara Wenzel, gave her a wave from a window. Her presence felt intrusive when Erika was about to talk to Anders about this sensitive subject, which he might feel brave enough to share with her. Erika stood up and wandered off to the edge of the rocks for a bit of seclusion. It was difficult not to pine for him, and every time they met the prospect of losing him would become more painful. Erika dialed the number and took a deep breath. Everything was still so new and exciting. It was difficult to know whether he actually wanted her to call him.

  “Julia Ahlström.” The daughter had picked up right after the first ring.

  “Hello, my name’s Erika Lund and I was wondering if your father’s there?”

  “I doubt it.” The voice sounded snooty and Erika felt like a schoolgirl caught making a nuisance call.

  “Do you know when he’s coming home?”

  “Nope.” She was chewing loudly on something, munching. An apple perhaps, which she was demonstratively chomping.

  “Can you ask him to give me a call when he gets in?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Julia with a dragging voice. “He doesn’t have the energy for any more crazies today. He’s tired after work, can’t you see that?”

  “Why don’t we let him decide for himself? He’s a grown-up.”

  Erika heard Anders’s voice in the background.

  “Who is it?”

  “Some nut-job called Erika. We’re watching a movie. You promised not to talk to people when we’re watching a movie!”

  “How are things with Julia?” asked Erika when Anders came on the line, although she wasn’t so concerned about his answer. But she did understand it was important to him that Julia should feel happy again after her argument with her friends at the stable.

  “She’s a bit out of sorts. I promised her a cozy evening. Can I call you later?”

  Silly the way one could go around waiting for a telephone call and not get anything done in case he called. Erika had promised herself to never, ever get caught in that trap and now she was pacing the floorboards. Julia was used to having her father to herself and Erika had no experience with that sort of thing. Her own children had been small when she was forced to leave them. How would she cope if his child hated her from the start and wanted to sabotage her? By the time Anders called it was close to midnight and Erika had almost given up hope.

  “Sorry. I couldn’t get away earlier.”

  “That’s okay.” It was a relief hearing his voice. “I read that book you gave me. Can we talk about it?” She heard him close the door.

  “If we can make it brief. Julia isn’t asleep yet, and she’ll want me to put her to bed.”

  She’s eleven, isn’t that a bit too old to be put to bed? thought Erika. But she didn’t comment. “Was that how it happened? Like in the book?” she asked, to get him on the right track.

  “Yes.” She could hear the resistance, and when he continued his voice was tense and creaky. It wasn’t easy for him to talk about it.

  “When did it happen?” In view of the fact that he was still wearing his wedding ring, Erika thought it must be fairly recent.

  “Julia was six months old. She was christened at the same time as we were married in Gnisvärd Church. We had the reception at the Fridhem Pension, just by Högklint. Isabel wanted a midnight swim. I had some drinks with the guys and then stayed with Julia in the bridal suite and fell asleep. I wasn’t at all sober. After just a few hours I woke up. It was dawn. She hadn’t come back. I got worried, woke up my mother and asked her to keep an eye on the baby while I went down to the beach. Isabel’s clothes were in a pile. The undertow.…”

  “It must have been terrible.”

  “If you knew how many times I’ve regretted not going with her. She wasn’t sober, either. I wasn’t thinking straight. I could have left Julia with my mother who was sleeping in the room next door. But I didn’t. Instead I had another drink with the guys before they went back into town and
then I passed out.”

  “So what does the actual myth mean to you, then?” Erika had a gut feeling that her question was warranted. Normally, legends and myths are created so that people remember to watch out for a particular danger. The Dryad haunted the rapids so that children took extra care when they went there and so that women were not seduced by violin-playing foreigners and enticed into extra-marital escapades. The Siren of the Woods was invented so that children were careful about not getting lost in the forest and men guarded over their virtue. The Mermaid was all about watching out for the undertow. And that was why the stories were passed on from generation to generation, so that the living did not make the same mistakes as their forebears. But what did it mean to Anders?

  He delayed answering, and when his answer finally did come it was apologetic and full of hesitation. “I know that dreams and fairytales are sometimes as real to me as reality itself, even though I’m a doctor and have been brought up to be scientific. It’s obviously about guilt and it’s possible that I’m still punishing myself because I wasn’t there for her that night, on our actual wedding night. Obviously it does affect my relationship with Julia. I can’t deny her anything. I obey her slightest whim to compensate for the loss I can never repay. She never had her mother. I’ve tried to meet other women since then, but nothing ever developed because I didn’t dare. Julia takes all my attention. It’s not easy. And now you know.”