A Nearly Normal Family(95)

“I mean they spent time together. That’s it! Amina didn’t have sex with Chris, if that’s what you’re implying.”

G?ran Leijon’s cheeks turn red and he takes a sip of water as Michael places a calming hand on Stella’s arm.

“I was in total shock when I found out…” Her voice trembles and Stella scratches near her lips. “When the police told me what had happened. I couldn’t believe it. I knew Chris had received threats, but for him to die … I still haven’t come to terms with it.”

Faces are slowly changing in the gallery. The journalists’ typing starts to slow. Behind me, someone’s whisper is a little too loud as he wonders what threats Stella is talking about. Is it the ex-partner? I close my eyes and breathe. The tunnel has widened a bit.

“Before the prosecutor asks her questions, perhaps you would like to tell us what you were doing on the night of August the thirty-first,” says G?ran Leijon.

His voice is gentle, his eyes empathetic and trust inducing.

“I worked at H&M until we closed at seven fifteen,” Stella says. “Then I went with some coworkers to the Stortorget restaurant. We hung out at the outdoor seating there for a few hours. It was probably around ten thirty when I went to get my bike.”

Michael has sunk back into his chair slightly and his shoulders have relaxed. This makes me feel relieved and worried at the same time.

“Just when I was about to get on my bike, I caught sight of Linda Lokind on the other side of the street. Chris’s ex, that is. She had followed me another time too. She’s pretty creepy, so I tried to call Amina, but she didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to do. That was when I tried to get hold of Chris.”

I tried to put myself in her shoes. What would I have done? It’s so easy to believe you know exactly how you would react in different situations, but I have learned, not least through my work, that such notions don’t mean a thing when the chips are down. It’s simply not possible to predict how you will handle certain situations.

Stella explains that Linda Lokind had been following and harassing her for several weeks. She was scared; she knew Linda was unstable and perhaps even dangerous. That was why Stella slipped into Tegnérs, mostly to surround herself with people while she waited for Amina or Chris to respond.

“They never did, so once I had calmed down a little, I decided to bike home. I only made it to Kyrkogatan, the intersection by the library. And there stood Linda Lokind again.”

The lay judges are startled and a buzz goes through the gallery. The only person who doesn’t seem affected in the least is Jenny Jansdotter. She is sitting ramrod straight, perfectly still, as if she’s just waiting for her chance to crush Stella.

“I was terrified,” Stella says, and she explains how she darted into the pub Inferno, right at that intersection.

She hid in the back of the pub and hoped Linda Lokind wouldn’t follow her.

“Amina still wasn’t answering and I couldn’t get hold of Chris, so I decided to bike to his place. It was all such a nightmare. I didn’t know what to do.”

Stella’s breathing is the only sound audible in the room. All eyes are on her.

“They weren’t there,” Stella says.

Beside me, people turn their heads. Someone scrapes their shoe against the floor. A gal from the TV news chews her gum.

“I rang the bell and banged on the door. Then I pressed my ear up against it to listen, but they weren’t there.”

Stella lifts her water glass. Her hand is quaking and as she leans forward, her hair falls in front of her face.

Something seems off. What if she tells the whole story? Stella has always loved drama. She used to dream of becoming an actor, and here she has her stage, her audience, her big number. I desperately extend one arm toward her.

“I biked home. I biked home and went to bed,” she says, brushing her hair to the side. “I don’t know what happened after that.”





87


“With that, the prosecutor has the floor,” says the presiding judge.

Jenny Jansdotter doesn’t move. Every muscle in her severe face appears to be in deep concentration. The whole courtroom is waiting for her.

Then she gives a start and turns toward Stella.

“Who wasn’t there?”

Her voice is sharp and authoritative, not at all in keeping with her stature.

“What?”

“You just said ‘They weren’t there.’ Who were you referring to?”

Stella makes a gesture that’s meant to seem blasé.

“Chris,” she says. “Christopher Olsen. He wasn’t in his apartment, so I went home.”

“But you didn’t say ‘he.’ You said ‘they.’ Plural. More than one person. Who was it, besides Chris Olsen, that wasn’t there?”

Stella shoots a quick glance at Michael.

“Amina, I guess.”

“Amina Be?i??”

Stella nods.

“I must ask you to respond verbally to the prosecutor’s questions,” says G?ran Leijon. “For the sake of the recording.”

Stella glowers at him. Her upper lip trembles.

“Yes,” Stella says, her voice exaggeratedly loud.

When I turn my head, I discover that the bearded journalist is watching me. He hastily turns away as soon as our eyes meet.