A Darker Shade of Sweden (38 page)

“Tonight is Jesus' birthday. Tonight we must be grateful for the gift of God. For his coming to this world as a human being, as a naked child in the arms of a poor woman. Mary held him newborn and naked in her arms. We must be . . . Jesus is here with us tonight, as all other nights and days. All these nights I have . . . Oh, Jesus, what have I done? Forgive me, God. Forgive me, Erik.”

Lovisa Granath sits back in her armchair, her eyes closed. She babbles incoherently. Charlotta Lugn remains standing by the gramophone, staring at the woman. Listening.

“I asked for it. I forced it. I settled on Lennart because he was . . . He was so clear in his faith, so strong and so uncompromising. I despised those other weaklings, all those who imagined that you could pick and choose among the words of the Bible and still call yourself a Christian. Those who thought that you could accept what fit and just . . . I wanted such a man. I wanted definite answers, I wanted a man to lean on, a firm ground to grow from . . . One who told me what to do. Who appreciated me as a woman and who was a real . . . Lennart was a real man. He truly was. Not a weakling. His father had raised him with equal parts love, rules and punishment. Spare the rod and spoil the child. And that's how he wanted to raise Erik as well, our weak, soft, damnably soft . . . Erik wasn't like other boys. Of course we knew that. Didn't want to be a part of our family, our community, our faith. He broke. . . .”

She falls silent again. Shuts her eyes hard and sips her tea again. The final drops. She makes a disgusted grimace.

Charlotta Lugn feels her heart beat wildly. She wants to hurry Lovisa Granath on, but she also wants to hear every uncomfortable detail. She knows better than to interrupt with questions or leading statements at this point. But the woman's slurred speech worries her. She seems to have had a stiffener or two too many, and . . .

Charlotta Lugn is suddenly conscious of the empty teacup in Lovisa Granath's hand. It sits loosely in her slack hand which now rests on her lap. Damn!

“Lovisa. Lovisa! Listen to me! Have you done something stupid? What is it you've been drinking?”

Charlotta Lugn crosses the floor to the woman and puts her hands on her shoulders. Her body feels slack and Lovisa Granath turns her face up to her. Smiles happily. She looks more at peace than Charlotta has ever seen her before.

“It's too late. You can't do anything now. I've been drinking this poison all day. And to tell you the truth, it tastes like hell.”

Her hand goes automatically to her mouth, as if to stop the profanity before it crosses her lips. She smiles apologetically.

“It's up to you. Phone for an ambulance if you choose, but they won't make it in time. Or do you want to hear the end of . . . I really do want to tell you. I don't want . . . you must be my confessor. Even if I don't even believe in the penance of confession. Nothing can save a sinner like me, someone who has . . . Please sit down, won't you?”

Lovisa Granath's eyes briefly become hard. She wants to be obeyed.

“Are you out of your mind?”

Charlotta gets her phone out; she carries it in the back pocket of her jeans. The emergency service center is preprogrammed on a priority number. After four seconds she is talking to a colleague. Subconsciously she counts while speaking. Twelve seconds. A car will be on its way in . . . call it thirty seconds. At worst a minute, it's Christmas Eve. It's a fairly long drive from Eastern hospital. Is there any chance that they'll be in time?

Her last words to the emergency center: “You better fucking hurry!”

As if paralyzed, Charlotta Lugn sits down, as close to the old woman as possible. Unconsciously she holds her hands out to her and Lovisa Granath's thin fingers meet hers. She folds her warm hands around the cold and bony ones. Just sits there, looking hard at Lovisa.

“Lennart used to follow Erik on weekends and evenings. At first I thought it was just fine, a bit like those Dads on the Town they've got nowadays. He was involved in what his son was doing, and wanted to . . . We didn't know who he met, you see, we noticed that sometimes Erik lied to us about where he had been. He didn't go straight home after his church meetings. But Lennart became obsessed. Sometimes he didn't even go to work just to keep track of Erik. He followed him, watched every step. It was . . . it was sick, it really was. Then of course I understood why.”

Lovisa Granath clasps Charlotta's hand. She is surprisingly strong. Lovisa looks her straight in the eyes.

“You really must understand. I and my husband hate homosexuals. It's a sin. It's fornication. Against nature. God in his wrath will smite those who live in such sin . . . Who believes it can ever be the same as between a man and a woman. Who lies down with a man as a man lies down with a woman will suffer the wrath of God. And our son . . . our only son. An abomination. A degenerate. A . . . freak!”

The words make Charlotta shrink back. She tries to take her hand away, but Lovisa holds it firmly.

“I don't say these things to hurt you, my dear. I say them because I want you to understand. Understand why Lennart in the end could see no other solution. He knew that Erik would never . . . Erik was such a weak soul. And so easily led. He met the wrong people, they made him . . . God will forgive us in the same way he . . . God let his only son die on the cross to show his real . . . God will . . .”

Lovisa Granath is panting, as after a long run. She has talked so much and so fast and her strength seems to be fading. She licks her lips. They are very dry and Charlotta Lugn knows that it's only a matter of minutes. She glances at her watch. Almost three minutes since she phoned for an ambulance. It ought to be here by now.

She asks her heart if she's doing something wrong, if she ought to do more to try to stop this insane old woman from committing suicide. But what more can she do? Other than listen.

But there is one more thing.

“Lennart?”

“He has left. He knows you won't be able to . . . that you can't get . . . can't prosecute him. But I told him I would tell you the truth. That it was time. That God wanted to hear me speak true words, no more lies. He is already far away, abroad . . . He doesn't want . . . The shame. Everyone will . . . And I don't want to either . . . I want to be with Erik. It's the only thing I want.”

“One more question.”

“Uhnn . . . ?”

Lovisa goes ever deeper into her fog. She no longer looks at Charlotta, but she seems to hear her. And she can't refrain from asking.

“Why did he kill Erik? I mean . . . even if you hated his sexual bent. Did he really have to die for that?”

Part of her wants her to lean closer to Lovisa and slap her face. A good slap. You fucking nut. Kill your own son. Protect a murderer. Just because of God . . . She feels pure rage. Charlotta doesn't believe in all the drivel about abominations and words of God. It's just words. But obviously there were those who accepted the words as their law, as demands that had to be obeyed. Regardless of consequences.

“Do you see . . . Snow. It's snowing. The angels are no longer crying. Rain . . . it doesn't rain. Snow . . . Erik loved the snow. It's he who is . . .”

“But why kill him? Wasn't that going too far?”

“Uhnn . . . ?”

“Did anything special happen that night? That Lucia night?”

“Nothing special . . . or, I don't know . . . no, he . . . Lennart had been angry for so long . . . hateful . . . mad with rage. He thought Erik was fucking around. That's what he said . . . That Erik . . . Erik was a . . . He was out. Sinning. With some new boy. Lennart had followed them the night before. That's where he slept. And he supposed Erik was going there again . . . and, well . . .”

There is silence.

A minute passes. Lovisa's eyes are closed and Charlotta fears it is all over.

Where is the damned ambulance?

A quiet peace spreads over the woman's face, softens the hardened features and makes her look young.

“Lovisa?”

“Mhmm . . .”

“Is there anything more you want to tell me?”

“Mhmm . . . No. I . . . Thank you.”

She whispers the last few words. The sirens can be heard outside, softly but getting closer. Charlotta envisions the car going up the hill at high speed, braking outside the bulding. But it's too late.

Charlotta Lugn feels Lovisa Granath's hold on her hand loosen, sees her thin fingers letting go. At the corner of her eye, she glimpses the white snowflakes.

Falling quietly outside.

Snow is falling from heaven.

Katarina Wennstam was born in 1973 and grew up in Gothenburg, but moved to Stockholm in 1994 and lives in the suburb Nacka with her two children. For many years, she was a crime reporter at the Swedish Television network, but in 2007 resigned in order to write and lecture full time. Her first two books were nonfiction:
Flickan och skulden: en bok om samhällets syn på våldtäkt (The Girl and the Guilt: A Book on How Society Views Rape,
2002
)
, and a companion work,
En riktig våldtäktsman
(A Real Rapist,
2004
)
, in which she interviewed sentenced rapists. For these books, as well as for her TV journalism, Wennstam was nominated for the August Award for best Swedish nonfiction book, and received the Vilhelm Moberg Stipend, the Journalism Award of the Swedish Lawyers' Society, and the Prix Egalia gender equality award. In 2007, she published her first novel,
Smuts
(Dirt)
. It was followed by Dödergök
(
untranslatable; a play on words from a Swedish children's rhyme
)
, 2008, and
Alfahannen
(The Alpha Male)
; all three featured public prosecutor Madeleine Edwards, and involved one or more cases concerning relations between women and men. In 2012, she published
Svikaren
(The Betrayer),
her first novel featuring Detective Captain Charlotta Lugn. As always in Katarina Wennstam's novels the theme is topical, concerning the intolerance for sexual minorities among athletes. Wennstam's latest novel, again featuring Lugn, is
Stenhjärtat
(The Stone Heart,
2013
)
.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

For their help, advice, and support during my work on this book, I owe thanks to a number of people. In particular, I would like to acknowledge:

• Otto Penzler and Morgan Entrekin, who believed in this project from the start, and particularly Otto, long-time friend, publisher, editor, and crime fiction expert extraordinaire, not to mention a great guy to go log-riding with;

• The authors with which I worked on many of these stories, and in particular Åke Edwardson, Eva Gabrielsson, Veronica von Schenck, Maj Sjöwall, and Dag Öhrlund. In this context, my thanks also to Jerker Eriksson and Håkan Axlander Sundquist, who but for unfortunate circumstances would have been in this book, and who were a joy to work with;

• Those others who helped above any call of duty, and in particular Astri von Arbin Ahlander, for translation assistance; Magdalena Hedlund, for her support and suggestions; Dag Hedman, whose efforts, though as it sadly turned out were in vain, were greatly appreciated; Per Olaisen and Johan Wopenka for suggestions and for generously sharing their expertise.

• Finally, but as always most of all, my thanks to Evastina, first reader and critic, whose views, comments, suggestions, and encouragement remain vital.

John-Henri Holmberg

Viken, July 2013

PERMISSIONS

The individual stories in this book are copyrighted as follows:

Tove Alsterdal: “Reunion” (“Jag som lever och du som är död”). Published in Swedish in the weekly
Hemmets Veckotidning
, 2013. Copyright © Tove Alsterdal 2013, 2014. Published by permission of the author and the author's agent, Grand Agency.

Rolf and Cilla Börjlind: “He Liked His Hair” (“Sitt hÃ¥r tyckte ha nom”). Original to this book. Copyright © Rolf and Cilla Börjlind 2014. Published by permission of the authors and the authors' agent, Grand Agency.

Åke Edwardson: “Never in Real Life” (“Aldrig i verkligheten”). Published in Swedish in
Noveller för Världens Barn
, 2005. Copyright © Åke Edwardson 2005, 2014. Published by permission of the author.

Inger Frimansson: “In Our Darkened House” (“DÃ¥ i vÃ¥rt mörka hus”). Published in Swedish in
Mord i juletid
, 2005. Copyright © Inger Frimansson 2005, 2014. Published by permission of the author and the author's agent, Grand Agency.

Eva Gabrielsson: “Paul's Last Summer” (“Pauls sista sommar”). Original to this book. Copyright © Eva Gabrielsson 2014. Published by permission of the author.

Anna Jansson: “The Ring” (“Ringen”). Published in Swedish in
Mord på julafton
, 2003. Copyrght © Anna Jansson 2003, 2014. Published by permission of the author and the author's agent, Grand Agency.

Åsa Larsson: “The Mail Run” (“Postskjutsen”). An earlier version of this work was published in Swedish in the daily newspaper
Dagens Nyheter
. Never before published in this form. Copyright © Åsa Larsson 2014. Published by permission of the author and the author's agent, Ahlander Agency.

Stieg Larsson: “Brain Power” (“Makthjärnan”). Privately printed in Swedish in the author's and Rune Forsgren's mimeographed fanzine
Sfären
, number 3, April 1972. Copyright © The Estate of Stieg Larsson 2014. Published by permission of the Estate of Stieg Larsson, Moggliden AB and its agent, Hedlund Literary Agency.

Henning Mankell and HÃ¥kan Nesser: “An Unlikely Meeting” (“Ett osannolikt möte”). Originally published in Swedish in
Mordet på jultomten
, 1999. Copyright © Henning Mankell and Håkan Nesser 1999, 2014. Published by permission of Henning Mankell's agent, Leonhardt & Høijer Agency A/S, and of Håkan Nesser.

Magnus Montelius: “An Alibi for Señor Banegas” (“Ett alibi Ã¥t señor Banegas”). Published in Swedish in
Mord på önskelistan
, 2011. Copyright © Magnus Montelius 2011, 2014. Published by permission of the author and the author's agent, Hedlund Literary Agency.

Dag Öhrlund: “Whose Honor?” (“Vems heder?”). Copyright © Dag Öhrlund 2014. Original to this book. Translated by Angela Valenti and Sophia MÃ¥rtensson. Published by permission of the author.

Malin Persson Giolito: “Day and Night My Keeper Be” (“Se till mig som liten är”)
.
An earlier version of this work was published in Swedish in the daily newspaper
Aftonbladet
. Never before published in this form. Copyright © Malin Persson Giolito 2012, 2014. Published by permission of the author and the author's agent, Hedlund Literary Agency.

Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö: “The Multi-Millionaire” (“Multimiljonären”). Originally published in Swedish in
Jultrevnad
, 1970. Copyright © Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö 1970; copyright © Maj Sjöwall 2014. Published by permission of Maj Sjöwall.

Sara Stridsberg: “Diary Braun” (“Kalender Braun”). Originally published in Swedish in
Noveller för Världens Barn
, 2008. Copyright © Sara Stridsberg 2008, 2014. Published by permission of the author and the author's agent, Hedlund Literary Agency.

Johan Theorin: “Revenge of the Virgin” (“Jungfruns hämnd”). Originally published in Swedish in the daily newspaper
Barometern
, 2008. Copyright © Johan Theorin 2008, 2014. Published by permission of the author and the author's agent, Hedlund Literary Agency.

Veronica von Schenck: “Maitreya” (“Maitreya”). Original to this book. Copyright © Veronica von Schenck 2014. Published by permission of the author.

Katarina Wennstam: “Too Late Shall the Sinner Awaken” (“Sent ska syndaren vakna”). An earlier version of this work was published in
Mord i julklapp
, 2007. Never before published in this form. Copyright © Katarina Wennstam 2007, 2014. Published by permission of the author.