‘Fuck.’ Peter’s grip tightens on the wheel.
‘Milla, Iben and Jack were together just before the fire broke out. According to Jack’s and Milla’s statements, Iben was supposed to follow them to Milla’s cabin. If Milla had wanted revenge on Iben, that means she must have met Tomas on her way out of the dance hall, but that isn’t mentioned in any of their statements. Both Jack and Milla said they didn’t see anyone on their way to the cabin.’
‘She could have spoken to Tomas earlier.’
‘True, but don’t forget that Tomas and Iben had known each other since they were little. She even told him what Ulf was doing to her. Tomas, not you or anyone else. That’s how close they were.’
The last sentence is like a knife in Laura’s heart.
‘Tomas adored Iben,’ Peter continues. ‘He would never have agreed to do anything that would harm her. No chance.’
‘And yet he did,’ Laura says quietly.
Peter doesn’t reply, but his silence implies agreement.
‘It was me, by the way,’ he says after a moment. ‘I was the one who told Hedda. I felt as if everything was spiralling out of control, so I called Hedda and explained what had been going on.’
‘Did you tell her I was mixed up in it?’
‘No, and she didn’t ask – but I think she worked it out. She certainly moved fast to get Milla relocated.’
They reach the village, pass the church, the sign for the Iben Jensen School.
‘When did they rename the school?’
‘A few years ago, when Ulf stepped down from his post as chair of the council. It was a kind of leaving present.’
‘Did nobody object? Nobody think it was strange to name a school after a dead girl?’
‘Not as far as I know. If anyone felt like that, I guess they kept their opinions to themselves.’
‘Because people are scared of Ulf?’
‘Not scared exactly.’ Peter turns onto Gärdsnäsvägen. ‘Ulf has coached generations of kids in athletics. Led them in competitions, on training camps and trips. Most of them are grown up now, and they feel a strong loyalty to Ulf.’
Laura thinks about the reception she got in the ironmonger’s and the ICA store – and about the scratches on her car. But something is still bothering her about Tomas. How unfamiliar he looked.
‘Do you think we’d recognise her?’
‘Who?’
‘Milla. Do you think we’d recognise her if she showed up?’
‘I’ve no idea. People change a lot from their teenage years to adulthood.’
‘Even if it’s someone you knew really well?’
He frowns. ‘Are we talking about Milla, or somebody else?’
Laura’s cheeks flush red. ‘Jack. I’ve got a feeling he’s back – I don’t really know why.’
‘Have you kept in touch?’
Laura shakes her head, registering a sharpness in Peter’s tone of voice. ‘The last trace of him is a postcard to Hedda, sent from Berlin in 1989.’
Peter doesn’t say another word until they reach Hedda’s house. He gets out of the car and walks her to the door.
‘By the way, would you like to have dinner with me and Elsa tomorrow evening? She wanted me to ask you,’ he adds hastily.
‘That would be lovely,’ Laura says. ‘But only because Elsa wants me to come.’
It is Peter’s turn to blush. The tension from a little while ago is gone, replaced by something else. Something warm and soft that Laura likes.
They are standing opposite each other on the porch. Without really knowing why, she leans forward and kisses him on the cheek. She stays where she is while he jumps in the car. Just as he’s about to drive off, he lowers the side window.
‘I think you might be right.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I met an old classmate from the police academy on a course a couple of years ago. He’d put on twenty kilos, lost half his hair and was wearing glasses. We were really good friends at one point, but I hadn’t a clue who he was. It was pretty embarrassing when we shook hands. And you didn’t recognise me in church the other day, even though I’ve done nothing but age thirty years. So if Milla or anyone else turned up with a different name and appearance, there’s a strong possibility that neither you nor I would recognise them.’
51
She switches on all the lights in the house. In spite of her and Elsa’s efforts the place is still a terrible mess, but Laura consoles herself with the thought that at least it looks better than when they started. Plus, it no longer bothers her as much. She takes out her phone, plays the sound file Lelle gave her. Hearing Iben’s voice is so uncomfortable that she involuntarily hunches her shoulders.
Källegården. Near Vedarp. Ulf Jensen. He’s messing with his daughter.
So this is Iben’s terrible secret. A secret Tomas has kept for over thirty years.
Poor Tomas in his hideaway in the forest, and Peter who has done his best to protect him all these years, because of a guilty conscience. Peter, who stubbornly insists that Tomas is not behind the fires at Ensligheten and Källegården, even though all the indications suggest that he is.
She tries to go over everything that has been said between them, but it’s all too much. She decides to go out and get some fresh air, clear her mind. She pulls on her jacket and boots and takes her cup of tea with her. George accompanies her, leaping around in the snow like an excited puppy.
‘Stupid cat,’ she murmurs.
George looks up and tilts her head to one side. When they reach the pontoon, the cat stops and looks at her again as if to say: this far and no further. She disappears into the darkness like a grey speckled shadow.
Laura goes right to the end of the pontoon and stands by the ladder. The ice has formed a thin covering at the bottom, and is well on the way to winning the battle against the slight current that has kept the water open.
She gazes across at the northern shore, the yearning lamp on Miller’s boathouse, the silhouette of the ridge, all the way to the castle.
Was Jack out there somewhere, having changed so much that she didn’t recognise him? Or is the whole thing just a fantasy, wishful thinking based on an unhappy teenage love affair? If she’d sat down and carried out a risk assessment the way she did at work, dealing with facts and not emotions, the result would have been a given. The likelihood of Jack being anywhere near Vintersjön is so low that it’s almost non-existent.
And yet she can’t get it out of her mind, in spite of everything she’s found out, in spite of the fact that she and Jack are actually cousins. She will never be able to share this with Steph. The cousin-jokes would come thick and fast, and Steph would bombard her with video clips of unfortunate banjo-playing hare-lipped souls in dungarees.
She smiles to herself, realises that she misses Steph’s dark sense of humour. She sips her tea and looks over at the castle, remembering how she and Iben dreamed of stealing the troll’s treasure and buying Vintersjöholm. Steph would have liked that story.
So what now? Ulf Jensen’s abuse of his daughter is beyond the statute of limitations, and Tomas has admitted that he was behind the dance hall fire, even though he hinted that Milla talked him into it.
Laura can see the black water through the thin crust of ice. Images of Hedda’s dead body come into her mind. Was it Iben’s secret that cost her her life? If so, the main suspects are Ulf Jensen and his two sons, either together or acting on their own initiative.
Hedda was on the trail of the secret, and if she’d found out the truth she would probably have refused to sell Gärdsnäset to the local council. She would have let Ulf lose his beloved family farm. She might even have revealed everything, dragged his good name through the mud.