didn’t find any physical evidence to indicate what might have happened to the family?’
Gösta shook his head. ‘Of course, we didn’t have the equipment and the expertise that’s available today, so that factored into the technical investigation. But everybody did the best they could, and there was nothing. Or rather: we found nothing. But I’ve always had a feeling that we missed something, though I could never put my finger on what that might be.’
‘What happened to the little girl?’ asked Annika, whose heart went out to any child in trouble.
‘There were no living relatives, so Ebba was placed with a foster family in Göteborg. As far as I know, they later adopted her.’ Gösta paused for a moment, looking down at his hands. ‘I have to say that we did a good job. We investigated every possible lead and tried to form some idea of a motive. We poked around in Rune’s past but found no skeletons in the closet. We knocked on doors all over Fjällbacka, to find out if anyone had seen anything out of the ordinary. We tackled the case from every imaginable angle, but never made any headway. Without proof, it was impossible to work out whether they’d been murdered or kidnapped or had simply left voluntarily.’
‘Fascinating,’ said Mellberg, clearing his throat. ‘But I still don’t understand why we need to revive this old case. There’s no reason to complicate matters unnecessarily. Either this Ebba and her husband set the fire themselves, or some kids decided to get up to mischief.’
‘Don’t you think it seems to involve more sophisticated planning than the sort of thing a bunch of bored teenagers would do?’ said Patrik. ‘If they wanted to burn down a building, it would be a lot simpler to start a fire in town than to go out to Valö in a boat. And as we mentioned, Martin is looking into whether this might have involved insurance fraud. But the more I hear about the old case, the stronger my gut feeling is that the fire is connected to what happened when that family disappeared.’
‘You and your gut feelings,’ said Mellberg. ‘There’s nothing concrete that points to a connection. I know that you’ve been right a few times in the past, but in this instance, I reckon you’re way off the mark.’ Mellberg got up, clearly pleased at delivering what he considered the truth of the day.
Patrik shrugged, letting his boss’s remarks roll right off him. He’d long since stopped taking Mellberg’s opinion into consideration. In fact, he’d never really bothered with Mellberg’s view. So he assigned the various tasks to his colleagues and ended the meeting.
On his way out of the room, Martin pulled Patrik aside.
‘Could I have the afternoon off? I know it’s short notice, but …’
‘Sure, of course you can if it’s important. What’s it about?’
Martin hesitated. ‘It’s a personal matter. I’d rather not talk about it just now. Is that okay?’
There was something in his tone of voice that stopped Patrik from asking any more questions, but he was hurt that Martin didn’t want to confide in him. He thought they had formed such a close relationship during the years they’d worked together that Martin should feel comfortable telling him if anything was wrong.
‘I can’t talk about it,’ said Martin, as if he guessed what Patrik was thinking. ‘So is it okay if I leave after lunch?’
‘Of course. No problem.’
Martin gave him a faint smile and turned to go.
‘But I’m here if you want to talk,’ said Patrik.
‘I know that.’ Martin hesitated, but then headed off down the hall.
As she made her way down the stairs, Anna already knew what she’d see in the kitchen. Dan would be sitting at the table, wearing an old bathrobe and deeply engrossed in the morning newspaper, holding a cup of coffee in his hand.
When he saw her come into the room, his face lit up.
‘Good morning, sweetheart.’ He reached out for a kiss.
‘Good morning.’ Anna turned her head away. ‘I have such bad morning breath,’ she said apologetically, but the damage was done. Dan got up without a word and went over to the dishwasher to put his cup inside.
Why did it have to be so damned hard? She was always saying and doing the wrong thing. She wanted things to be good again, back to the way they used to be. She wanted to re-establish the natural relationship that they’d had before the accident.
Dan busied himself washing up the breakfast dishes, and she went over to put her arms around him, leaning her cheek against his back. But the only thing she felt in his tense body was frustration. It spread to her, making her desire for closeness disappear, at least for now. It was impossible to say whether the occasion would present itself again.
With a sigh she let go of Dan and sat down at the kitchen table.
‘I need to get back to work,’ she said, picking up a slice of bread and reaching for the butter knife.
Dan turned and leaned against the counter with his arms folded.
‘What kind of work?’
Anna hesitated before saying, ‘I’d like to run my own business.’
‘That’s a great idea! What sort of business? A shop? I could check around to see what’s available.’
Dan gave her a big smile, but somehow his eager response dampened her own enthusiasm. This was her idea, and she didn’t want to share it. She couldn’t explain why.
‘I want to do this myself,’ she said, noticing the sharp tone of her voice.
The joy instantly vanished from Dan’s face.
‘Sure, go ahead,’ he said, going back to clattering the dishes.
Shit, shit, shit. Anna silently cursed herself, clenching her hands into fists.
‘I’ve been thinking about opening a shop. But I’ll need to do all the furnishing myself, go sourcing antiques, and things like that.’ The words spilled out as she tried to recapture Dan’s attention. But he was making a lot of noise, washing the glasses and plates, and he didn’t respond. His back seemed rigid and unforgiving.
Anna set the slice of bread down on her plate. She’d lost her appetite.
‘I’m going out for a while,’ she said, getting to her feet and heading out of the kitchen to go upstairs and get dressed. Dan still didn’t say a word.
‘How nice that you could join us for a spot of lunch,’ said Pyttan.
‘A pleasure to come over here and see how the other half lives.’ Sebastian laughed and gave Percy such a hard slap on the back that he coughed.
‘Well, you’re not exactly living in poverty.’
Percy smiled to himself. Pyttan had never made it a secret what she thought of Sebastian’s ostentatious mansion with the two pools and tennis court. The house may have been smaller in size than Fygelsta manor, but it was much more lavish. ‘Money can’t buy taste,’ Pyttan used to say after they’d visited, turning up her nose at the gleaming gilded frames and the enormous crystal chandeliers. Percy was inclined to agree.
‘Come and sit down,’ he said, ushering Sebastian to the table that had been set for lunch out on the terrace. At this time of year Fygelsta was unbeatable. The beautiful park stretched as far as the eye could see. For generations it had been meticulously tended, but it wouldn’t be long before it would fall into neglect, just as the manor had done. Until he had worked out their finances, they would have to make do without gardeners.
Sebastian sat down and leaned back in his chair, his sunglasses pushed up on his forehead.
‘Some wine?’ Pyttan held out a bottle of first-class Chardonnay. Much as she disliked the thought of asking Sebastian for help, Percy knew that his wife would do her utmost to support him now that the decision had been made. It wasn’t