Читать книгу The Girl in the Woods - Camilla Lackberg - Страница 21

‘This is a very sad day,’ said Patrik, looking around at his colleagues in the conference room.

No one spoke, no one looked at him. He supposed that, like him, they were thinking about their own children. Or grandchildren.

‘Bertil and I are cancelling all leave. As of now, everyone is back on the job,’ he said. ‘I hope you will understand.’

‘I think I speak for everybody here when I say you couldn’t keep us away,’ said Paula.

‘That’s what I thought,’ replied Patrik, moved by his colleagues’ response. Even Mellberg was eager to get to work.

‘So let’s tend to the practical matters first. I know that several of you have children who aren’t in school at the moment.’

He looked at Martin as he said this.

‘Pia’s parents will take care of Tuva while I’m at work.’

‘Good,’ said Patrik.

Since no one else spoke, he assumed that Paula and Annika had also made arrangements at home. The death of a child took priority over everything else. It was all hands on deck, and he knew they had many hours of work ahead of them.

‘Gösta, how are the parents doing?’ asked Patrik, sitting down in a chair next to the whiteboard at the front of the room.

‘As well as could be expected,’ said Gösta, blinking several times. ‘The pastor came over, and I called in the doctor as well. When I left, both parents had been given a sedative to help them sleep.’

‘Do they have any relatives who can come over?’ asked Annika, who had a big family and was used to having lots of people around, lending their support in a crisis.

‘Eva’s parents are dead. Peter’s parents live in Spain, but they’re on a plane as we speak. They should be here in a few hours.’

‘What has Torbjörn told you so far? How is their work coming along?’ asked Martin, reaching for the large Thermos jug that Annika had filled with coffee before the meeting began.

‘The girl’s body is being taken to Gothenburg for the post-mortem,’ said Patrik quietly.

The memory of lifting Nea’s small body out from underneath the tree trunk would stay with him forever. Wild animals had not been able to reach her as she lay there in the hollow, but insects had poured out when they lifted her. Images flashed through his mind in rapid progression; he knew the same sequence would be replayed in his mind every night for the foreseeable future. He had observed many post-mortems in the course of his career, so he was familiar with what went on. All too familiar. He didn’t want to picture the little girl lying naked and exposed on the steel table. He didn’t want to know where Pedersen would make the incisions, how her organs would be removed, how everything that had once given her life would be weighed and measured. He didn’t want to know how the stitches would then form a ‘Y’ on her chest.

‘How did it go at the crime scene?’ Gösta asked. ‘Did they find anything useful?’

Patrik gave a start as he tried to shake off the visions of Nea on the autopsy table.

‘They collected a lot of material, but we don’t know yet how significant it will be.’

‘What sort of things did they find?’ Martin wanted to know.

‘Footprints, though they might be from the three men who found her or the previous search parties. Everyone who took part in the search has been asked to provide footprints. Did any of you search that particular area? If so, we need footprints from you too.’

‘No, none of us was in the area where the girl was found,’ said Gösta, helping himself to a cup of coffee.

‘Okay, footprints. What else?’ asked Paula.

‘I’m not sure. The techs were putting a lot of things in plastic bags, but I won’t know the details until Torbjörn’s report comes in. He doesn’t like to give out any information until he’s had a chance to take a close look at all the collected material.’

Mellberg stood up and went over to the window.

‘Damn, it’s hot in here.’

He tugged at his shirt collar as if he couldn’t breathe. There were big patches of sweat under his arms, and his comb-over had slid down over one ear. He opened the window. The traffic noise was a little intrusive, but no one objected to having fresh air sweep through the stuffy room. Ernst, the station’s dog, had been lying at Mellberg’s feet, panting. Now he got up and padded over to the window to sniff at the air.

‘So Torbjörn didn’t tell you anything?’ asked Paula.

Patrik shook his head. ‘No, we’ll have to wait for his preliminary report. And I need to find out from Pedersen when we can expect the results of the post-mortem. I’m afraid there are other cases ahead of this one, but I’ll talk to him and see what he can do.’

‘You were there at the scene. Did you notice anything?’ Paula persisted. ‘Anything on her body or—’

Martin grimaced.

‘No. And it’s not worth speculating until Pedersen has time to examine her.’

‘Are there any obvious suspects?’ asked Martin, tapping his pen on the table. ‘What do we know about the parents? It wouldn’t be the first time parents killed their own child and then tried to make it look like someone else had done it.’

‘I have a hard time believing that, in this case,’ said Gösta, setting down his cup so hard the coffee sloshed over the side.

Patrik held up his hand.

‘At this point there’s no reason to believe Nea’s parents are in any way involved. But Martin’s right – we can’t rule out the possibility. We need to talk to them as soon as we can, partly to find out whether they have an alibi, and partly to find out whether they have any information that might help us move forward with the investigation. But I’m inclined to agree with Gösta. At this stage, nothing points towards them.’

‘Since the girl was naked, maybe we ought to look into whether any paedophiles have been seen in the area of the farm,’ Paula suggested.

Silence settled over the room. Nobody wanted to think about what this suggestion implied.

‘I’m afraid you’re right,’ Mellberg said after a moment. ‘But how do we go about that?’

He was still sweating buckets and panting as heavily as Ernst.

‘There are thousands of tourists here right now,’ he went on. ‘How can we tell whether there are any sex offenders or paedophiles among all those people?’

‘We can’t. But we can dig out the reports of suspected sex offenders who may have turned up here this summer. Wasn’t there a woman who came in this week to report a guy who was secretly taking pictures of kids at the beach?’

‘Yeah,’ said Patrik with a nod. ‘I took the report. Glad you thought of that, Annika. Could you go through all the reports we’ve taken since May? Pull out anything of interest. Better to cast a broad net, and later we can narrow it down.’

‘I’m on it,’ she said, writing a note to herself.

‘So we need to talk about the elephant in the room,’ said Paula, refilling her cup from the Thermos.

A hissing sound issued from the Thermos pump, indicating it was almost empty. Annika got up to refill it. Coffee was the fuel they all needed at the moment.

‘I know what you’re talking about,’ said Patrik, looking a little uncomfortable. ‘The Stella case. Helen and Marie.’

‘Yes,’ said Gösta. ‘I was working here at the station thirty years ago. Unfortunately, I don’t remember all the details. It was a long time ago, and Leif turned over all the routine stuff to me while he handled the investigation and interviews. But I do recall what a shock it was to the whole town when Helen and Marie, having admitted to killing Stella, later retracted their confessions. To my mind, it’s no coincidence that Nea disappeared from the same farm and was found in the same place. Or the fact that this should happen right when Marie comes back here after a thirty-year absence.’

‘I agree,’ said Mellberg. ‘We need to talk to both of them. Even though I wasn’t here for that investigation, I heard a lot of talk about the case. And I’ve always thought it was especially horrifying that such young girls would kill a child.’

‘Both of them have maintained their innocence all these years,’ Paula pointed out.

Mellberg snorted. ‘In that case, why did they confess in the first place? Personally, I’ve never doubted those two girls killed Stella. And it doesn’t take an Einstein to put two and two together when the same thing happens again, now they’re back together for the first time in thirty years.’

‘We need to be careful not to rush to judgement,’ said Patrik. ‘But I agree we need to talk to both of them.’

‘I think it’s crystal clear,’ Mellberg went on. ‘Marie comes back, she and Helen are united, another murder occurs.’

Annika came back into the room, bringing the Thermos filled with coffee.

‘Did I miss anything?’

‘We were only saying that we need to consider possible similarities with the 1985 case. And we’ll have to interview Helen and Marie.’ Patrik looked at the whiteboard. ‘Annika, could you try to find the interview files and the rest of the case notes and evidence? I know it won’t be easy, considering what a mess it is in the archives, but give it a try.’

Annika nodded and made another note on her pad.

For a moment Patrik sat in silence, pondering whether what he was about to say had been properly thought through. But if he said nothing, it would undoubtedly come up in some other context, and then he’d be criticized for not mentioning it to his colleagues.

‘Regarding the Stella case …’ he said, pausing before going on. Then he tried again. ‘Well, the thing is, Erica has started work on her next book. And … she has decided to write about that particular case.’

Mellberg sat up straight. ‘She’s going to have to put that on hold for a while,’ he said. ‘We have enough to worry about without your wife running around and getting in the way. This is police business, not a matter for civilians who have neither the training nor the experience of the police force.’

Patrik had to stop himself from pointing out that Erica had been of far more help than Mellberg in solving their last few big cases. He knew it would do no good to insult Mellberg. His boss had the greatest faith in his own talents, albeit he was alone in that regard. Patrik had learned to work around him instead of with him. He also knew from experience that it would serve no purpose to tell Erica not to research the Stella case. Once she started poking around, she wouldn’t rest until all her questions were answered. But that wasn’t something he needed to tell his colleagues. He surmised that everyone other than Mellberg was well aware of this.

‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell Erica. But she has already done a lot of research, so I was thinking we might use her as a resource. What would you think if I invited her over this afternoon so she could tell us what she knows about the case?’

‘I think that’s a brilliant idea,’ said Gösta. Everyone except Mellberg nodded agreement.

But Bertil knew when he was outnumbered and muttered: ‘I suppose that’s all right.’

‘Good. I’ll talk to her as soon as we finish the meeting,’ said Patrik. ‘Maybe you could add whatever details you do remember from the investigation, Gösta.’

Gösta nodded. His wry smile indicated there wasn’t much he’d be able to recall.

‘So, what else is on the list of things we need to do?’ asked Patrik.

‘The press conference,’ said Mellberg, looking more cheerful.

Patrik frowned but he knew he had to choose his battles. Mellberg would be allowed to handle the press conference. They would just have to cross their fingers that he didn’t manage to do any damage in the process.

‘Annika, could you call a press conference for this afternoon?’

‘Okay,’ she said, making a note of the request. ‘Before or after Erica has been here?’

‘Let’s do it before,’ said Patrik. ‘Preferably two o’clock. I’ll ask Erica to be here around three thirty.’

‘I’ll tell the reporters two o’clock. The phone has been ringing nonstop, so it’ll be nice to be able to tell them something.’

‘We all need to be aware that this is going to turn into a real media circus,’ said Patrik.

He shifted in his seat. Unlike Mellberg, who relished being in the spotlight, he viewed media interest as nothing more than a hindrance. Though on rare occasions media reports did lead to important tips from the public, more often than not the negative effects far outweighed the positive.

‘Don’t worry. Leave it to me,’ said Mellberg happily, leaning back in his chair. Ernst was once again draped over his feet under the table. Even though it must have been like wearing a pair of warm wool socks, Mellberg let him stay. Erica was fond of saying that Mellberg’s love for the big, shaggy dog was one of his few redeeming qualities.

‘Be sure to weigh every word you say,’ Patrik reminded him, fully aware that Mellberg usually allowed the words to spill out, free and uncensored, and without any thought for the consequences.

‘I have a lot of experience dealing with the press corps. During my days in Gothenburg—’

‘Great,’ Patrik cut in. ‘We’ll leave it to you then. Maybe you and I could do a brief run-through beforehand, discuss what we want to emphasize and what we should keep to ourselves. Okay?’

Mellberg huffed. ‘As I said, during my days in Gothenburg—’

‘How should we divide up the work?’ asked Martin, heading off Mellberg’s diatribe.

Patrik gave him a grateful look. ‘I’ll talk to Torbjörn and Pedersen and find out when we might expect to get more information from them.’

‘I’ll talk to Nea’s parents,’ said Gösta. ‘But I’ll give the doctor a call first to check how they’re doing.’

‘Do you want to take someone with you?’ asked Patrik. He could only imagine what Eva and Peter must be going through.

‘No, I can handle it alone. Better to use our resources on other things,’ said Gösta.

‘I can talk to the girls who were convicted of killing Stella,’ said Paula. ‘Or “women”, I suppose I should say. They’re not girls any more.’

‘I’ll go with you,’ said Martin, raising his hand like a schoolboy.

‘Good.’ Patrik nodded. ‘But wait until Erica has been here and given us more meat on the bone, so to speak. Use the time until then to knock on doors in the area around the farm. When people live in a remote spot like that, they tend to keep an eye out for anything unusual and any strangers who happen by. So it’s worth talking to the neighbours.’

‘Okay,’ said Paula. ‘We’ll drive out there and have a chat with the closest neighbours.’

‘I’ll hold the fort here,’ said Patrik. ‘The phone keeps ringing, and I want to review our plans for the investigation before the press conference.’

‘And I need to get ready,’ said Mellberg, reaching up to pat his hair in place.

‘All right. We’ve got a lot of work to do,’ said Patrik, signalling the meeting was over.

The small conference room was now unbearably stuffy and hot. He was desperate to get out of there, and he suspected his colleagues felt the same way.

The first thing he did was ring Erica. He wasn’t sure it was wise to let her get involved in the investigation, but as he saw it, he had no choice. On the other hand, it would be a real bonus if she had information that could help them find Nea’s killer.

The first kilometre was always tough, in spite of all the years she’d been running. But after that it got easier. Helen felt her body respond and her breathing became more regular.

She had started running as soon as the court hearing was over. The first day she ran five kilometres to rid her body of all the frustration. The pounding of her footsteps on the gravel, the wind blowing through her hair, the sounds all around her – those were the only things that could silence the rest of the world.

She ran a little further each time, and she got better and better. Over the years she’d run in more than thirty marathons. But only in Sweden. She dreamed of being in a marathon in New York, Sydney, or Rio, but she was grateful that James at least let her take part in the Swedish races.

The fact that she was allowed to cultivate this interest of hers, allowed to spend a couple of hours every day on her running, was solely because he appreciated the discipline of the sport. It was the only thing he respected about her – that every morning she ran tens of kilometres, that her psyche was able to conquer the limitations of her body. But she could never explain to anyone how, when she ran, everything that had happened was erased, becoming hazy and distant, nothing more than a dream she had once had.

In her peripheral vision she saw the house built on the site where Marie’s childhood home had once stood. By the time Helen returned to Fjällbacka, the new house was already there. Her parents chose to move away immediately after everything fell apart. Her mother, Harriet, couldn’t handle all the gossip, the surreptitious stares, and the whispering.

James and her father, KG, had seen each other often until KG died. Sometimes she and Sam would go along when James drove to Marstrand, but only so Sam could visit his grandparents. Helen had no wish to see either of her parents. They had failed her when she needed them most, and that was something she could never forgive.

Her legs were starting to tighten, and she reminded herself to correct her stride. Like so much else, she’d had to struggle to develop a good stride. Nothing had ever come naturally to her.

No, now she was lying to herself. Until that day, life had been easy, they had still been a family. She couldn’t recall any problems or setbacks. Nothing but bright summer days and the scent of her mother’s perfume when she tucked her in at night. And love. She remembered the love.

She picked up speed in order to drown out her thoughts. All those thoughts that running usually erased. Why were they appearing in her mind now? Was she going to have to give up even this temporary reprieve? Had Marie’s return ruined everything?

With each breath, Helen noticed how different everything felt. Her lungs were straining, and in the end she had to stop. Her legs felt so tight, and her body was weak from lactic acid. For the first time her body had defeated her will.

Helen didn’t notice she was falling until she landed on the ground.

Bill looked around the restaurant in the TanumStrand hotel and conference centre. Only five people had turned up. He saw five weary faces. He knew they had been out searching for little Nea all night. He and Gun had talked about it on their way over, wondering whether they should postpone the meeting. But Bill was convinced this was exactly what was needed at the moment.

Yet it had never occurred to him that only five people would come.

Rolf had arranged for Thermoses of coffee and rolls with cheese and paprika to be set on a side table, and Bill had already helped himself. He took a sip of coffee. Gun sat on a chair next to him, sipping her coffee as well.

Bill looked from the exhausted faces to Rolf, who was standing at the entrance to the restaurant.

‘Maybe you’d like to introduce everyone?’ he asked.

Rolf nodded.

‘This is Karim. He came here with his wife and two children. He worked as a journalist in Damascus. Then we have Adnan and Khalil, sixteen and eighteen, respectively. They came to Sweden alone and have become friends at the refugee centre. And this is Ibrahim, the oldest of the group.’ Rolf switched to English. ‘How old are you, Ibrahim?’

The man next to Rolf had a big beard. Smiling, he held up five fingers.

‘Fifty.’

‘That’s right. Ibrahim is fifty, and he arrived here with his wife. Finally, we have Farid. He came to Sweden with his mother.’

Bill nodded to the man with the shaved head and the huge body. He looked to be in his thirties and, judging by his girth, he spent a large part of his time eating. Bill thought it might be tricky to get the weight distribution right in a sailboat with someone who weighed at least three times as much as the others, but they’d find a way. He needed to stay positive. If he hadn’t stayed positive he never would have survived that time when his boat capsized off the coast of South Africa and the great white sharks began circling.

‘And my name is Bill,’ he said, speaking slowly and clearly. ‘I’m going to speak Swedish with you as much as possible.’

He and Rolf had agreed that would be best. The whole point was for the refugees to learn the language so they could more rapidly become part of society.

Everyone except Farid had a puzzled expression. He replied in broken but understandable Swedish:

‘I am the only one who understands Swedish okay. I have been here the longest and I have studied hard, very hard. I can maybe help to translate in the beginning. So the boys will understand?’

Bill nodded. That seemed sensible. All the new words and specialized sailing terms would be challenging even for a native Swede. Farid switched to Arabic and quickly explained what Bill had said. The others nodded.

‘We try … understand … Swedish … and learn,’ said the man named Karim.

‘Great! Excellent!’ said Bill, giving them a thumbs up. ‘Do all of you know how to swim?’

He made swimming motions with his arms, and Farid repeated his question in Arabic. The five men spoke among themselves, then Karim replied for all of them, again in laborious Swedish.

‘We can … that is why we take this course. Otherwise not.’

‘Where did you learn to swim?’ asked Bill, both relieved and surprised. ‘Have you spent a lot of time on the coast?’

Farid quickly translated. His words were greeted with laughter.

‘At the leisure centre,’ he said with a smile.

‘Oh, of course.’

Bill felt stupid. He didn’t dare glance at Gun sitting next to him, but he could hear her trying not to snort. He probably needed to do some reading about Syria, so he wouldn’t seem like such an ignorant fool. He’d visited many parts of the world, but for him their country was only a blank patch on the map.

He reached for another roll. It had a thick layer of butter, just the way he liked it.

Karim raised his hand, and Bill gave him a nod.

‘When … when we begin?’

Karim said something in Arabic, and Farid added: ‘When do we begin sailing?’

Bill threw out his hands.

‘There’s no time to lose. The Dannholmen regatta takes place in only a few weeks, so we start tomorrow! Rolf will give you a lift to Fjällbacka, and we’ll begin at nine o’clock. Bring warm clothes with you. It’s colder out on the water than on shore when the wind is blowing.’

When Farid had translated, the others looked a bit uneasy. But Bill gave them an encouraging look and what he hoped was a winning smile. This was going to be great, just great. No problems at all. It was all good.

‘Thanks for letting the kids hang out here for a while,’ said Erica as she sat down across from Anna on the partially finished deck.

She had gratefully accepted the offer of iced tea. The heat was oppressive, and the AC wasn’t working properly in her car. She felt as if she’d been wandering in the desert for forty days. She reached for the glass Anna had filled from the carafe and downed the iced tea in one long swig. Anna laughed and refilled her glass. Now that Erica had quenched the worst of her thirst, she could drink the rest of her tea more slowly.

‘It was fine,’ said Anna. ‘The kids were so sweet I hardly even noticed them.’

Erica grinned. ‘Are you sure you’re talking about my kids? Maja can be quite docile, but I wouldn’t call those two little rascals “sweet”.’

Erica wasn’t kidding. When the twins were younger, they’d been very different from each other. Anton had been calmer and more introverted, while Noel was the one who always made a fuss and got into mischief. Now both of them had entered a period when they were filled with such an excess of energy that it was frequently too much for her. Maja had never gone through anything like that. She hadn’t even been particularly obstinate when she was a toddler, so Erica and Patrik had not been prepared for this. And it was double trouble, since they were twins. Erica would have loved to leave the children with Anna for the rest of the day, but her sister looked so tired that she couldn’t ask any more of her today.

‘So how did it go?’ Anna said, leaning back in her Baden Baden deckchair with the gaudy, sun-patterned cushion.

Anna hated the sight of those cushions every time they sat outside on the deck, but Dan’s mother had made them, and she was such a nice person that Anna couldn’t bring herself to replace them. In that respect Erica was lucky. Patrik’s mother, Kristina, would never dream of sewing or doing any other type of handiwork.

‘It was pretty hopeless,’ said Erica gloomily. ‘Her father died so long ago, and she didn’t remember much. And she didn’t think he’d saved any of the investigative materials. But she did say something interesting. She told me Leif had started to doubt whether they actually did it.’

‘You mean he thought the girls weren’t guilty after all?’ said Anna, swatting away a horsefly.

Erica kept her eye on the fly. She hated all wasps and flies.

‘Uh-huh. She said he wasn’t convinced they did it, especially towards the end of his life.’

‘I thought they confessed,’ said Anna, again swatting at the fly. But it was merely dazed and continued attacking her the second it recovered. ‘My God, get away from me!’

Anna got up and reached for a magazine on the table. She rolled it up and swung at the fly, mashing it against the wax tablecloth.

Erica couldn’t help smiling at her hugely pregnant little sister going after that fly. Not an easy task for Anna at the moment.

‘Go ahead and smirk,’ said Anna peevishly as she wiped the sweat from her forehead before she sat down again. ‘Now where were we? Oh, right. Those girls confessed, didn’t they?’

‘Yes, they did, and it was their confession that got them convicted. Since they were so young, they didn’t receive a sentence, but the matter of their guilt was outlined in a statement at the court hearing.’

‘But what if they weren’t guilty?’ said Anna, staring at Erica. ‘What a tragedy that would be. Two thirteen-year-old girls whose lives were destroyed. Doesn’t one of them live around here? That’s awfully brave of her, if you ask me.’

‘I know. She moved back after a few years in Marstrand. You can imagine what the locals were saying about her at first, so it must have been hell. But after a while all the talk died down.’

‘Have you met her yet? For your book?’

‘No. I sent her several requests for an interview, but she never answered. So I was thinking of going to see her. To find out whether she’d agree to talk to me.’

‘How do you think your work on the book is going to be affected by what’s happened?’ asked Anna quietly. ‘To the little girl, I mean.’

Erica had phoned to tell Anna about Nea as soon as she heard that the girl’s body had been found. News of the child’s death would spread like wildfire through the whole community.

‘I’m not sure,’ said Erica hesitantly as she helped herself to more iced tea. ‘Maybe people will be more inclined to talk now, or maybe the opposite. We’ll soon find out.’

‘What about Marie? Our glamorous Hollywood star? Is she willing to be interviewed?’

‘I’ve been corresponding with her publicist for the past six months. My guess is, she has her own book deal in the works, and she’s not sure whether my book will help or hinder sales. But I’m going to pay her a visit, regardless.’

Anna looked askance. Erica knew the thought of contacting complete strangers and trying to persuade them to talk was her sister’s worst nightmare.

‘Let’s talk about something more pleasant, okay?’ said Erica. ‘We need to arrange a bachelorette party for Kristina.’

‘Of course we do,’ said Anna, laughing so hard her huge belly bounced. ‘But what do you do when the bride is a bit … past the usual age? All the traditional games like getting her to sell kisses at a booth don’t seem appropriate, not to mention making her skydive or bungee-jump.’

‘You’re right. I can’t imagine Kristina doing any of those things,’ said Erica. ‘Why don’t we just invite a bunch of her friends and spend a nice evening together? How about dinner at Café Bryggan? Good food, good wine. It can be as simple as that.’

‘Sounds like a great idea,’ said Anna. ‘Though we should still come up with some kind of fun kidnapping plan.’

Erica nodded.

‘Sure, otherwise it’s not a real bachelorette party! And by the way, when is Dan going to make a respectable woman of you?’

Anna blushed.

‘You can see how I look at the moment. We’ve agreed to have the baby first. Then we’ll start thinking about a wedding.’

‘So when do you think—’ Erica began, but she was interrupted by ‘Mambo No. 5’ playing on her mobile.

‘Hi, sweetheart,’ she said when she saw the name on the display.

She listened to what Patrik was saying, giving only a few brief remarks in reply.

‘No problem. Don’t worry about the kids. See you later.’

She ended the call and put her mobile back in her purse. Then she looked at Anna. She knew it was asking a lot to get her sister to babysit the kids again, but she had no choice. Kristina was in Uddevalla all afternoon, so she couldn’t ask her.

‘Okay,’ said Anna. ‘I can watch the kids for you. How long will you be gone?’ She laughed when she saw Erica’s embarrassed expression.

‘Could I drop them off again around three? Patrik wants me to come over to the station to tell them about the Stella case. I have to be there at three thirty. So I should be back here by five or five thirty. Will that work?’

‘That’s fine,’ said Anna. ‘Your kids are better behaved with me than with you.’

‘Oh, come on,’ said Erica, blowing her sister a kiss.

But it couldn’t be denied that Anna had a point. The children had behaved like angels.

‘What do you think they’re scared of?’

Sam realized he had started to slur his words. The combination of sun and champagne had gone straight to his head. He was holding the glass in his left hand. His right hand ached after the morning’s target practice.

‘Scared of?’ said Jessie.

She too was slurring her words. She’d had several glasses before he arrived and they were now on the second bottle.

‘Won’t your mother notice some bottles are missing?’ he asked, motioning with the glass.

The golden bubbles sparkled when the sunlight hit the glass. He’d never thought about how beautiful champagne was. On the other hand, he’d never seen it close up.

‘Oh, don’t worry. She won’t care,’ replied Jessie, tossing her head. ‘As long as there’s still some left for her.’

She reached for the bottle.

‘But what did you mean about being scared? I don’t think they’re scared of us.’

‘Of course they’re fucking scared,’ said Sam, holding out his glass.

The foam reached the top and spilled over the rim, but he merely laughed and licked the champagne off his hand.

‘They know we’re not like them. They sense … they can sense the darkness inside us.’

‘Darkness?’

She studied him in silence. He loved the contrast between her green eyes and blond hair. He wished she would realize how beautiful she was. He looked beyond her weight and the spots. He had recognized himself in her when he saw her at the Centrum kiosk. He knew they both shared that lost feeling. And he saw in her the same darkness.

‘They know we hate them. They see all the hatred they’ve already created in us, but they can’t help themselves, they keep pouring it on, keep creating something they won’t be able to control.’

Jessie giggled.

‘My God, you sound so pretentious. Skål! We’re sitting here in the sunshine, on the dock next to a luxury villa, we’re drinking champagne, and we’re having a fucking great time.’

‘You’re right.’ He smiled as their glasses clinked. ‘We’re having a fucking great time.’

‘Because we deserve it,’ Jessie said, stumbling over her words. ‘You and me. We fucking deserve it. We’re better than them. They’re nothing compared to us.’

She raised her glass so abruptly that half the champagne spilled out, landing on her bare stomach.

‘Oops,’ she said, giggling.

She reached for a towel, but Sam stopped her. He looked around. The dock was hidden by a fence, and the boats out in the water were a good distance away. They were alone in the world.

He knelt down in front of her, between her legs. She looked down at him with excitement. Slowly he licked the champagne off her skin. He sucked up the bubbly that had filled her navel and then ran his tongue over her sun-warmed skin. She tasted of champagne and sweat. He raised his eyes and looked at her. Keeping his eyes fixed on hers, he reached for the edge of her bikini bottoms and slowly pulled them down. When he began licking her, he heard her panting breaths mixing with the sound of the seagulls screeching overhead. They were alone. All alone in the world.