Hidden in Snow (The ?re Murders, #1)(91)

Harald remembers one morning a few months ago, when they were lying in bed after a night together in a mountain cabin he’d borrowed. It was a rare treat to wake with her beside him. They had made love slowly and gently in the early light. She rested her head on his arm, and the warmth of her body spread to his.

Somehow they started talking about Fredrik. Mira was afraid he would find out what was going on.

Fredrik never forgives an injustice, she said with a shudder that hinted at something darker than the usual ability to bear a grudge. And he never forgets.

Harald sits up in the guest bed. His body feels heavy, and his joints are aching. The combination of too little sleep and the booze he turned to yesterday has produced a horrible pounding in his skull.

He makes the effort to get dressed, but his shirt smells.

He goes to the bedroom to fetch a clean one; the room is in darkness, and he can just make out Lena’s silent figure beneath the covers. After a few seconds his eyes grow accustomed to the gloom, and he sees that she is lying on her side with her eyes closed.

She has totally checked out from everyday life.

He ought to wake her, make her have a shower and eat something, but he doesn’t have the energy. Instead he gathers up his clean clothes and heads for the bathroom.

He is standing in the shower when the emotional reaction catches up with him. His daughter is dead, and it is his fault. If he hadn’t started the affair with Mira, then Fredrik wouldn’t have taken his revenge.

Tears pour down his cheeks, mixing with the hot water.

He sobs silently, his body shaking. In the end he must grab a hold of the shower rail to stay upright.

It doesn’t help. He sinks down into a crouching position, letting the sobs take over.

Eventually they die away. He stands up, increases the water temperature, and allows it to sluice his face. It scalds his skin, and the bathroom fills with steam.

Fredrik cannot get away with this.

Harald clings to that thought.

Whatever happens, Fredrik must be punished.

OceanofPDF.com





99

Daniel is in the changing room at the police station, brushing his teeth. He grabbed a few hours’ sleep under a blanket in the restroom, and he has just tried to shake off the tiredness by splashing his face with ice-cold water.

Shame is not so easy to wash away.

He deeply regrets his outburst but has no idea how to explain himself or how to fix things. He has texted Ida, asking her to forgive him, but it feels both pathetic and inadequate. He can’t face the thought of calling her—it’s too soon.

Maybe he should just stay away for a while, give her some time to get over what happened?

He gargles and spits, prepares to start the day. His heart is heavy; it’s a whole day since he saw Alice, and that is entirely his fault.

If only he could control his temper. The eruptions of rage when he was young were one thing, but now he’s an adult and ought to get a grip.

Alice will never need to be afraid of arguments at home.

That’s what Daniel promised himself when she was born, and yet last night happened. His daughter is only three months old, and he has already had a complete meltdown.

He wonders if his grandfather felt the same deep shame whenever he lost control?

Daniel has heard people say that it must be nice to let your anger take over, to release all your emotions so that you can move on.

They have no idea.

It is terrifying to be so furious that you can’t remember what you’ve said to someone else—especially when it’s someone you love.

He is normally a calm person—restrained, even. It isn’t possible to work as a police officer if you can’t control your temper. Months can go by without his anger spilling over, but when it happens everything goes black. He becomes a different person, one he neither recognizes nor likes.

He turns off the faucet and wipes his mouth with a couple of paper towels, rubbing so hard that his top lip hurts.

He barely recalls what he yelled at Ida. He just remembers the overwhelming feeling that he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as her. Not for one more second.

And the realization that he had to get out of there before he did something even worse.

He leans over the washbasin and stares with distaste at his reflection in the mirror.

He is not going to be like his grandfather.

Or his father.

The door opens, and Anton comes in carrying his sports bag in one hand and his saxophone case in the other. He is an hour early and immediately grasps what is going on.

Yesterday’s clothes in a crumpled heap on the bench, the toothbrush on the edge of the basin. He is tactful enough not to comment on Daniel’s disheveled appearance.

“Everything okay at home?” he asks.

Daniel gets on well with Anton; sometimes they go for a beer together. But the situation with Ida is too personal. He can hardly explain last night’s outburst to himself, let alone a colleague.

He shrugs, summons up a smile.

“See you at the briefing,” he says, disappearing into the toilet.

OceanofPDF.com





100

Kalle is at the kitchen table, chewing listlessly on his sandwich. Mimi has an untouched glass of milk in front of her. “When is Ludde coming home?” she asks.

Harald swallows. He still hasn’t been able to bring himself to tell them that the dog is dead.