Camilla Lackberg Crime Thrillers 1-3: The Ice Princess, The Preacher, The Stonecutter
stick?’
‘We’re sure that they did have a relationship. What about Anders? Do you know him?’
Once again he saw a superior smile on Jan’s lips, but this time it was even broader. He shook his head in amusement.
‘You know what? One could safely say that we don’t exactly move in the same circles. I see him down at the square sometimes with the other alkies, but do I know him? No, actually I don’t.’
His tone clearly revealed how absurd he thought the question was.
‘We associate with people of a quite different social class, and winos aren’t normally included,’ he went on.
Jan waved off Patrik’s question as if it were a joke, but Patrik thought he saw a flash of uneasiness in his eyes. It vanished as soon as it appeared, but Patrik was sure he’d seen something. Jan was bothered by questions about Anders. Good, then Patrik knew he was on the right track.
He permitted himself to enjoy his next question even before he asked it, pausing for effect and then asking with feigned surprise: ‘But if that’s true, why did Anders recently place a large number of calls to your number?’
To his great satisfaction, Patrik saw the smile vanish from Jan’s lips. The question apparently made him lose his train of thought, and for a moment Patrik could see behind the dandy image that Jan so assiduously cultivated. Behind the artifice, he now saw unalloyed terror. As Jan collected himself, he tried to buy time by lighting a cigar with great care while he avoided looking Patrik in the eye.
‘Will you pardon me for smoking?’ He didn’t wait for a reply, nor did Patrik give him one.
‘If Anders rang here I certainly don’t understand why. I haven’t spoken with him, and I don’t think my wife has either. No, that’s truly odd.’
He sucked on his cigar and leaned back against the sofa with his arm nonchalantly stretched out along the sofa pillows.
Patrik said nothing. In his experience, the best way to get people to say more than they intended to was simply to keep quiet. They would feel a need to fill in the silence if it lasted too long. This was a game that Patrik had mastered. He waited.
‘Come to think of it, I think I know what happened.’ Jan leaned forward and waved his cigar.
‘Someone called our answering machine and didn’t say anything. All we heard was breathing on the tape. And several times when I answered the phone there was nobody on the other end. It must have been Anders who somehow got hold of our number.’
‘Why would he call you?’
‘How should I know?’ Jan threw out his arms. ‘Envy perhaps. We have plenty of money and that grates on some people. People like Anders are always ready to blame their misfortune on others, especially on people who have actually managed to make something of their lives.’
Patrik thought that sounded a bit far-fetched. It would be difficult to refute what Jan was saying, but he didn’t believe him for a minute.
‘I assume that you don’t still have those calls you mentioned on the answering machine tape.’
‘Unfortunately, no.’ Jan frowned in an attempt to look regretful. ‘Other messages were recorded over them. I’m sorry, I wish I could help you. But if he rings again I’ll make sure to save the tape.’
‘You can rest assured that Anders won’t be ringing your home again.’
‘Oh? And why is that?’
Patrik couldn’t tell whether his puzzled expression was genuine or phoney.
‘Because Anders has been murdered.’
A trail of ashes dribbled onto Jan’s lap from the cigar. ‘Anders was murdered?’
‘Yes, his body was found this morning.’
Patrik studied Jan closely. If only he could hear what was going on in Jan’s head right now, it would all be so much easier. Was his surprise genuine, or was he just an excellent actor?
‘Is the perpetrator the same person who murdered Alex?’
‘It’s too early to say.’ He didn’t want to let Jan off the hook just yet. ‘So you’re quite sure that you don’t know either Alexandra Wijkner or Anders Nilsson?’
‘I’m actually quite aware of the people I associate with and those I don’t. I knew them both by sight, but no more than that.’ Jan was again back to his smiling, calm self.
Patrik decided to try another line of questioning.
‘In Alex Wijkner’s home we found an article that she had clipped out of Bohusläningen about your brother’s disappearance. Do you know why she might have been interested in saving that article?’
Once again, Jan threw out his arms and opened his eyes wide as if to say that he had absolutely no idea. ‘It was the big topic of conversation here in Fjällbacka many years ago. Perhaps she saved the article as a curiosity.’
‘Perhaps. What’s your view about your brother’s disappearance? There are a number of different theories.’
‘Well, I think that Nils is having the time of his life in some nice hot country. Mother, on the other hand, is completely convinced that he met with an accident.’
‘Were you very close?’
‘No, I wouldn’t say that. Nils was quite a bit older, and he wasn’t entirely enchanted to have a foster brother to share his Mamma’s attention. But we weren’t mortal enemies either. I think we were mostly indifferent to each other.’
‘It was after Nils disappeared that you were adopted by Nelly, isn’t that right?’
‘Yes, that’s true. About a year later.’
‘And with it came half the kingdom.’
‘Yes, one could perhaps say that.’
There was only a bit left of the cigar, and it was threatening to burn Jan’s fingers. He stubbed it out brusquely in a gaudy ashtray.
‘It’s not exactly pleasant that it happened at the expense of someone else, but I can honestly say that I’ve paid my dues over the years. When I took over the management of the cannery it was going downhill. I restructured the whole company from the ground up, and now we export canned fish and seafood all over the world – to the United States, Australia, South America …’
‘Why do you think that Nils fled abroad?’
‘I really shouldn’t be talking about this, but a large sum of money disappeared from the factory right after Nils vanished. In addition, some of his clothes, a suitcase and his passport were all missing.’
‘Why wasn’t the missing money ever reported to the police?’
‘Mother refused. She claimed that it had to be a mistake, that Nils would never have done anything like that. You know how mothers are. It’s their job to believe only the best about their children.’
He lit another cigar. Patrik thought it was starting to get rather smoky in the little room but said nothing.
‘Would you like one, by the way? They’re Cuban. Hand-rolled.’
‘No thanks, I don’t smoke.’
‘That’s a shame. You don’t know what you’re missing.’ Jan studied his cigar with pleasure.
‘I read in our archives about the fire that killed your parents. That must have been terrible. How old were you? Nine, ten?’
‘I was ten. And you’re right, it was terrible. But I was lucky. Most orphans aren’t taken in hand by a family like the Lorentzes.’
Patrik thought it a bit tasteless to talk about luck in that context.
‘From