The Disappeared (41 page)

The sound of the telephone interrupted them, and Alex answered. Peder’s voice was hoarse.

‘Where have you been? I’ve called several times.’

‘Interviewing Valter Lund. Has something happened?’

What a question. Peder’s brother was missing, and Alex had just asked him if something had happened.

‘Do you know who lives opposite Jimmy?’

‘Haven’t a clue.’

‘Thea Aldrin.’

Alex stared blankly at Fredrika, who was frowning.

‘Thea Aldrin is your brother Jimmy’s neighbour?’

‘She lives in the building opposite. On the ground floor. She has a small patio that faces Jimmy’s room. Do you remember what I told you this morning?’

The tone of his voice frightened Alex.

‘That Jimmy saw a man looking in through someone else’s window.’

‘Exactly. And whose window do you think that might have been?’

‘Peder, listen to me.’

‘I’m already on my way over there to give the old bag a good shake.’

Alex slammed his hand down on the desk with such force that Fredrika jumped.

‘You will do no such thing. She is one of the key figures in a major murder inquiry. You will not go over there in your present state. Do you hear me?’

Peder was breathing heavily at the other end of the line.

‘In that case you need to send Fredrika over here, or someone else. If they’re not here within the hour, I’ll speak to her myself.’

With a click he was gone.

‘Fuck.’

Alex put the phone down and turned to Fredrika.

‘I need you to go and speak to Thea Aldrin right away.’

He outlined the background.

‘But how could Jimmy’s disappearance have any connection with Thea Aldrin? It has to be a coincidence.’

‘I think so too, but Peder has been out looking for him all night, and he isn’t thinking clearly. I want you to go over to Mångården care home and set up an interview so that the whole thing doesn’t go pear-shaped.’

A memory from a few years ago flashed through his mind: a time when Fredrika was new to the job, and Alex didn’t know how to handle her. To be honest, he hadn’t believed he would ever come to value her, let alone trust her. Not the way he did now.

‘And Torbjörn Ross?’ she said.

‘I’ll confront him with what we’ve got. If he didn’t discuss Thea Aldrin with Rebecca, he might know whether someone else did.’

Fredrika got to her feet.

‘Are we going to bring in Morgan Axberger? I think we need to speak to him as a matter of urgency.’

‘I’ll get on it right away.’

‘OK,’ Fredrika said. ‘And then we can think about why Valter Lund lied to us.’

Alex raised his eyebrows.

‘You think he lied?’

Fredrika told him what had happened as they were saying goodbye.

‘Give our Norwegian colleagues a call and ask to see a passport photo of their Valter Lund so that we know we’re talking about the same person,’ Alex suggested. ‘And get hold of the uncle’s contact details.’

‘Already in hand,’ Fredrika replied.

Alex’s phone rang again. It was one of the officers who had been involved in the search for Håkan Nilsson on Lake Mälaren. The boat had been found. And Håkan Nilsson was missing.

54

It started to rain just as Fredrika drove into the car park at Mångården. She hadn’t been there before, and was surprised at how much greenery there was. Low buildings separated by lawns, deserted in the rain.

There was no actual barrier separating the assisted living complex from the care home, but the difference was clear to Fredrika. The windows of the assisted living complex had bright, colourful curtains with pot plants on the sills, and a young girl was gazing out from one of the rooms. On the other side, where the elderly residents lived, the windows lacked any sign of life. They almost acted as the opening to a peep-show in the complex, but revealed nothing whatsoever about the aged inhabitants of the care home.

She met Peder outside Jimmy’s block. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and felt him pull away impatiently. He showed her Jimmy’s room.

‘This is where he was standing when he spoke to me on the phone, I’m sure of it. And that’s what he could see.’

He pointed to the building across the lawn.

‘Is that where she lives?’ Fredrika asked.

Peder nodded. The sinews in his neck were strained; his eyes were dull with exhaustion.

‘We’ll go straight over there,’ he said.

They followed the path around the edge of the lawn and went into the care home through the main entrance on the other side of the building.

‘Peder Rydh, police.’

He showed his ID, and the care assistant immediately stopped what she was doing and showed them to Thea Aldrin’s room. The corridor smelled fresh, not stale and unpleasant like some other care homes Fredrika had visited.

The assistant stopped outside one of the anonymous white wooden doors and knocked firmly before walking in.

‘You know she doesn’t talk?’

‘Yes.’

They found themselves in a small hallway, then moved into the room itself; it was light, quite large, and simply furnished.

Thea Aldrin was sitting in an armchair facing the window. She didn’t move a muscle. She gave no indication that she had heard them come in.

‘You have visitors, Thea.’

Still no reaction. Peder quickly walked around the armchair and stood directly in her line of vision.

‘My name is Peder Rydh. Police.’

Fredrika moved to his side and introduced herself in a slightly less stressed tone of voice. She pulled up a chair and sat down; Peder did the same.

‘We’re here to ask you one or two questions relating to an investigation we’re working on,’ Fredrika explained. ‘Do you remember Rebecca Trolle?’

No reply, no reaction.

Thea didn’t appear to have aged significantly since the last pictures of her were published when she was released from prison. Grey hair, cut in a simple bob. Dark eyebrows, a pointed nose. She looked ordinary, like any other pensioner.

Fredrika took out a photograph of Rebecca and held it up in front of Thea.

‘We know she came to visit you on one occasion,’ Peder said. ‘We know she wanted to talk about your past.’

‘About the murder of your ex-boyfriend,’ Fredrika clarified.

‘And the disappearance of your son,’ Peder added.

The silence was so dense that Fredrika felt as if she could touch it if she just reached out. Peder’s jaws were working. He wouldn’t give Thea many more chances to speak before he exploded.

‘The film club,’ Fredrika said. ‘Do you remember the film club?’

It was just possible to sense the hint of a smile, but it vanished so quickly that Fredrika wasn’t sure if she had seen it after all.

‘To be perfectly honest, we’re really confused right now,’ she said. ‘We’ve found several bodies on the site where Rebecca’s body was dug up, but we don’t understand the connections. The only thing we know for certain is that whichever way we look at this story, it leads straight back to you, Thea.’

The old woman went pale, but still she said nothing. She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, trying to shut them out in every possible way.

‘There was a man in the grave: Elias Hjort. Do you remember him?’

Peder’s voice was sharp, quivering with suppressed irritation.

He went on: ‘There’s an assisted living complex just across the lawn. Do you know any of the residents?’

He leaned forward.

‘One of them went missing last night. Are you aware of that?’

Thea stiffened and her eyelids trembled. There was no doubt that she could hear what they were saying, so why the hell did she persist in remaining silent?

‘A young man who’s good at some things, not so good at others. Did you see him, Thea? He’s tall, with dark hair. He nearly always wears blue.’

He sounded as if he was on the point of bursting into tears.

Fredrika gently placed a hand on his arm and caught his eye. She shook her head.

We’re not getting anywhere, we have to drop this.

Then she saw that Thea had begun to cry. The tears made transparent tracks down her cheeks. Her eyes were still closed.

Peder slid off his chair and crouched down in front of her.

‘You have to talk to us,’ he said.

His voice was filled with such pleading that Fredrika didn’t know what to do with herself.

‘If you saw something, anything at all, you have to tell us. Or if someone is threatening you – you can talk to us about that too.’

Thea wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. Fredrika didn’t know what to think. The old woman was straight-backed and indomitable, yet clearly marked by the life she had led. Once upon a time, she had had everything anyone could wish for; now she sat alone in a care home, stripped of all that had been written in the stars for her.

Thea got up and lay down on the bed with her back to her visitors. Fredrika and Peder stood up.

‘We’ll be back,’ he said. ‘Do you hear me? We’re not letting this go just because you refuse to co-operate.’

As they left the room a few minutes later, Thea was still lying in exactly the same position.

‘Old bitch,’ Peder said when they were out in the corridor.

Fredrika ignored him and went in search of a member of staff. She spotted a young woman who was reading what appeared to be a patient’s file.

‘Excuse me.’

The woman looked up with the most hunted expression Fredrika had ever seen; her face was pale and weary. Fredrika hesitated.

‘Excuse me,’ she said again. ‘Could I possibly ask you one or two questions about Thea Aldrin?’

The young woman swallowed and attempted a smile.

‘Of course. But I don’t think I can be of much help; I’ve only just come on duty. They usually call me in at short notice.’

‘Were you working yesterday?’

Relief spread across the woman’s face.

‘No.’

As if she really didn’t want to help.

Fredrika read her name badge: Malena Bremberg. There was such a depth of anxiety in her eyes that it made Fredrika’s skin crawl, and she could see that Peder had noticed it as well.

‘We need to know whether Thea had any visitors yesterday,’ Fredrika said.

‘In that case you’ll have to ask someone else,’ Malena replied. ‘As I said, I wasn’t working yesterday.’

A colleague appeared in the corridor; she must have overheard the conversation, and took it upon herself to answer the question.

‘Thea hardly ever has visitors. Yesterday was no exception.’

‘Were you on duty?’

‘All day. The only person who visits Thea on a regular basis is that detective. Ross, I think his name is.’

Fredrika made no comment on Torbjörn Ross and his activities. She felt embarrassed for him, and wished he would put a stop to his visits.

‘He’s been here so often we were almost starting to wonder whether he’s the one who sends Thea flowers every Saturday.’

There. A fresh scrap of information.

‘She gets flowers every Saturday?’

‘She does.’

‘And how long has this been going on?’

‘Ever since she came here.’

Instinctively, Fredrika knew that this was important. Peder must have felt the same, because he suddenly decided to join in the conversation.

‘You don’t know who they’re from?’

The second care assistant smiled, clearly enjoying the attention more than Malena Bremberg, who excused herself and slipped into one of the anonymous rooms further down the corridor.

‘We haven’t a clue. They’re delivered at eleven o’clock in the morning. Always the same kind of flowers, always the same message on the card: “Thank you”, that’s all it says.’

So someone had a reason to be grateful to Thea Aldrin, who might have written violent pornographic novels under a pseudonym, and who had stabbed her ex-boyfriend to death.

‘We’d like the name of the florist,’ Peder said.

Fredrika was holding her breath. So far every road they had followed had led them back to Thea. Now at last they had found a road that led away from her. The question was – who was hiding at the other end?

While he was waiting to hear more about Håkan’s disappearance and Fredrika and Peder’s visit to Thea Aldrin, Alex decided to confront Torbjörn Ross.

‘You’ve been withholding information, Torbjörn.’

A direct statement, leaving no room for denial.

Ross gazed at the papers on his desk as Alex sat down opposite him.

‘You met up with her, didn’t you? You helped Rebecca Trolle with the research for her dissertation.’

When Ross didn’t reply, Alex went on:

‘Memory sometimes lets us down, doesn’t it? It only struck me today that you were involved in the investigation when Rebecca disappeared. But only during the first week, when we were questioning everyone and going through her things. Then you requested a transfer to another case, didn’t you?’

Alex felt the disappointment forming a lump in his throat.

‘You took material that could have been useful to us from among Rebecca’s belongings. You withheld important clues from me and the others.’

At last, Ross reacted.

‘Like hell, I did! You all ignored Thea Aldrin completely. You were too busy searching for the mysterious secret boyfriend. Nobody had even seen him, but you were all convinced he existed. I was the one who looked into the link with Thea Aldrin, and when it led nowhere I didn’t see the point in passing on information about an irrelevant minor line of enquiry.’

‘You don’t believe that for one minute. You kept quiet in order to save yourself, so that you could continue your bizarre, endless investigation into the disappearance of Thea’s son.’

Torbjörn Ross flushed deep red.

‘She murdered her son, Alex. Surely she shouldn’t be allowed to get away with that?’

Alex shook his head.

‘You’re the only person in the entire world who thinks that. It’s unhealthy. You need help.’

Ross got up from his chair, clearly agitated.

‘Thea Aldrin was right there in front of you, and you all ignored her completely.’

‘At the time, yes, but not now. And you knew that.’

Last weekend. Their conversation on the boat. It was Torbjörn Ross who had first brought up Thea’s name, who had pretended to be surprised that Rebecca Trolle was writing a dissertation about her. In fact, the opposite was true. Ross had merely wanted to ensure that Alex wasn’t going to drop Thea Aldrin this time.