A Nearly Normal Family(32)

Agnes Thelin glanced at the door. It was clear she was having a hard time defending herself.

“This is starting to look an awful lot like corruption,” I said. “A miscarriage of justice.”

“I understand it may seem frustrating, but we know a lot more than you do, Adam. You have to trust that we’re doing our best to arrive at the truth.”

“Then why don’t you tell me what you know?”

She scratched her nose.

“I can tell you this much. There may be good reason not to give too much credence to what Linda Lokind says. We’ve done an exhaustive inquiry into the accusations she made against Christopher Olsen, and the preliminary investigation was closed for lack of evidence. There was nothing to suggest that she was telling the truth about what happened.”

“Are you suggesting that Linda Lokind is lying about all of this?”

Agnes Thelin bit her lower lip.

“I’m just telling you what was found in the investigation.”





29


Agnes Thelin waited as I stirred my cup of coffee.

Could it be true that I had been duped by Linda Lokind? Was she the actual crazy one here—had she reported Christopher Olsen for abuse and rape in order to get revenge?

“Isn’t it generally true that domestic abusers go free more often than not?” I asked.

“It can often be a challenge to find evidence that will hold up in court,” Agnes Thelin admitted. “But in this particular case, there were so many uncertainties that I advise you to take Lokind’s statements with some reservation. Unfortunately, I can’t say any more than that.”

She didn’t have to. She was sure that Linda Lokind had been lying about Christopher Olsen. I, too, was convinced that Linda was hiding something.

“But that doesn’t really change anything. If Linda Lokind was prepared to direct false accusations against her former partner, she might very well have resorted to violence as well. Can’t you see that?”

Agnes Thelin tried to hide a sigh behind one hand.

“I hear what you’re saying, Adam.”

I clenched my teeth. She heard what I was saying but wasn’t planning to do a thing about it.

“When did you last talk to Stella on the phone?” she asked.

What did that have to do with anything?

“I don’t really recall. We hardly ever talk on the phone. I’ve stopped calling; she won’t answer anyway. It has to be text or Messenger.”

“You said you had contact via text on Friday night.”

“No, not contact. I sent a text, but I didn’t get a response.”

“Are you sure of that?”

I kept my answer to myself. Had the police managed to re-create Stella’s texts? Or would it come to seizing my phone and searching it? There was certainly no reason to be caught in a lie that might not even turn out to be important in the long run.

“I don’t actually recall. Maybe she responded; maybe not.”

The chief inspector cleared her throat.

“When did you last see Stella’s phone?”

Huh? I turned away to keep from showing my surprise. Hadn’t the police found Stella’s phone? I’d assumed it was confiscated when they searched our house.

“I’m sorry. I don’t remember.”

Agnes Thelin jotted down a note in her file.

“Have you seen the phone since Stella was apprehended?”

What did this mean? Where could Stella’s phone be, if the police hadn’t found it?

“No,” I replied.

Agnes Thelin let a sigh escape through her nostrils.

“This is important now, Adam. Do you remember what Stella was wearing when she came home Friday night?”

Sweat sprung to my underarms.

“Is this an interrogation? Do I even need to answer your questions?”

Thelin just looked at me.

“I’m useless at that stuff. My wife is always annoyed; I never notice when she buys new clothes.”

Agnes Thelin gave a forced smile.

“But you talked to Stella when she came home? You saw her clothes?”

“Yes, sure.”

“And you didn’t notice anything different? Stains, or something like that?”

I was sweating even more.

“It was dark. I don’t really recall…”

Not remembering, of course, is not the same thing as lying. I was trying to squeeze myself through every loophole I could find. Meanwhile, Thelin paged through her documents, her fingers tense.

“When did you first hear of Christopher Olsen?”

“Last Saturday,” I said honestly. “When I found out you had taken Stella into custody.”

“So you’d never heard his name before?”

I rubbed at my eyes.

“Not that I know of.”

“It’s a simple question, Adam. Had you heard of Olsen before, or not?”

“No, I hadn’t.”

“So Stella never mentioned his name. Did she ever talk about someone who might have been Olsen? A boyfriend? Did you know that she was seeing someone?”

“Stella didn’t have a boyfriend. Ask anyone! As I understand it, she only met up with Christopher Olsen on a few rare occasions. Why would she want to hurt him? It’s not logical.”