A Nearly Normal Family(39)

“That your report won’t lead to anything but a closed preliminary investigation.”



* * *



On Friday morning, two weeks after Chris Olsen’s murder, I woke up later than usual, disoriented and unsure what time it was or whether I’d slept for an hour or a whole night. When I hobbled down the stairs, Ulrika was leaning against the kitchen island in a terrycloth robe, her hair freshly washed. Two cups of coffee were steaming in front of her.

“The ME’s report is in,” she said. “They have established the time of Christopher Olsen’s death as between one and three A.M.”

My heart leaped.

“That means…”

Ulrika nodded.

“Cause of death, blood loss from penetrating trauma,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Two lacerations and four stab wounds.”

Whoever killed Christopher Olsen hadn’t just stuck him with a knife. It could hardly have been self-defense. Someone had stabbed him multiple times. There must have been tons of blood.

I thought of Stella’s stained blouse. Sure, Stella could become angry when she lost control. And it could happen quickly. But surely she couldn’t kill another human being.

“This kind of excess violence typically indicates that it was personal,” Ulrika said. “It’s likely that the perpetrator felt strong hatred toward the victim.”

“Like a vengeful ex-girlfriend?”

“For example.”

Ulrika blew on her coffee.

“Michael and I also talked about the apartment.”

“What apartment?”

“The one for overnights in Stockholm. We can move in next week. We won’t have to bring anything but the necessities.”

I burned my tongue on the coffee.

“Already? But … shouldn’t we think this all the way through?”

“I’ve made my decision,” she said curtly. “I can’t turn down this case.”

“But surely you’re not saying that we should leave Stella?”

“We’re not allowed to see her anyway! There’s nothing we can do before the trial.”

“You’ve already given up!”

“On the contrary, Adam. I’ve devoted my whole life to criminal justice. You’re going to have to trust me.”

I approached her. I got so close that I could feel the warmth of her breath.

“Let me go!” she said.

I looked down and discovered that my hands had grabbed her by the forearms.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Ulrika backed away.

“You’re becoming … I feel like I don’t know you.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“We have to stick together, honey. We’re a family.”

I squeezed my fists against my thighs.

“I’m doing everything I can to keep this family together. You’re the one shutting me out.”

“Michael is a skilled defense attorney,” said Ulrika. “He’s got a strategy, but he can’t reveal all the details to us. We have to trust him. He’s already broken his vow of confidentiality, don’t you understand that?”

“I don’t trust Blomberg.”

“We have to, Adam.”

She was close to tears.

“What if she did it?” I said. “What if it was Stella?”

Ulrika turned her face away and I stepped close to her again.

“You got rid of her phone. And her top. Why did you do that? Do you think Stella killed that man?”

She placed both of her hands on my chest. Tears were streaming down her face.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Ulrika shook her head.

“You’re crazy. You went to her house. Linda Lokind. You went into her apartment, Adam.”

“Well, the police aren’t doing anything. Someone has to do something!”

“I’m doing something too. Lots of people are doing things, Adam. But not like this. There are better ways.”

She dried her tears. I hadn’t seen her cry very many times, and guilt was tearing up my insides.

“Alexandra texted me yesterday,” she said. “Is it true that you waited for Amina outside the arena?”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Did you follow Amina and ask her a bunch of questions?”

“That’s not what happened.”

I couldn’t believe Amina had told her mother. At the end of the day this was good news, because now she would have to confess everything, whatever she was keeping from us. There was no way Alexandra would let her keep mum. It was obvious that Amina was sitting on information that could determine Stella’s future.

“You can’t keep on like this,” said Ulrika.

“What am I supposed to do? My daughter has been accused of murder!”

I thundered out to the entryway and tore my coat from the hook. I flung open the door and let it slam behind me.





36


I walked through town like a boiling cauldron. Staring at my shoes, my feet pounding the ground. I was starting to feel afraid of myself.

Late that afternoon, Ulrika called. I was standing on a gravel path in Lundag?rd Park with no idea of how I got there or where I was heading.