We Know You Remember (93)

“They were dating,” she said. “On and off for quite a while, but it ended before Lina disappeared.” She paused, both to catch her breath and in order to speak calmly and normally. “I didn’t know until I saw his name in the old preliminary investigation. I was only nine back then. No one told me anything.”

“And you didn’t think to mention this?”

“I did, but we weren’t meant to be looking into Lina’s case and there were no outstanding suspicions against him; the case was solved.”

Excuses, evasion. The truth was that it had been on her mind ever since. GG studied her. As a detective, she thought. He’s not looking at me like a colleague right now.

“You know you have the right not to say anything,” he said. “I can get someone else to go through the material right now, if you’d prefer.”

Eira tried to moisten her mouth.

“Magnus was only interviewed because of their relationship,” she said. “While it was still considered a missing-person case, before anyone knew whether a crime had been committed.”

“And then they narrowed in on Olof Hagstr?m?”

“Mmm.” She couldn’t bear the fact that he was studying her so solemnly. “In the interviews, Magnus said he was home that night. The interview leader didn’t take it any further.”

“You know we have to question your brother, don’t you? For the murder in Lockne.”

“I understand.”

What do you think? she felt like screaming. Do I look like a complete idiot?

“We haven’t managed to find a phone contract for him,” GG continued. “And we tried to track him down at the address where he’s registered in Kramfors, but the woman we spoke to said he doesn’t live there anymore.”

“He’s got another girlfriend now,” said Eira, giving GG her details. “But she called me last night. He’s not there either.”

She mentioned Ricken’s name, but they had already checked with him.

“Can you think of anywhere else?” asked GG. “Anywhere he might be?”

Eira tried to smile, but it became more of a struggle not to cry.

“Is this where I’m supposed to say that there’s a secret lake? Somewhere my brother used to take me fishing?”

“For his own sake.”

“Magnus was never home. He disappeared for days at a time and only occasionally showed up to sleep or to steal from the kitty. I don’t know. I have no idea where he is.”





Chapter 53





Something touched his arm. There were lights, there were shadows; nothing was still.

Small dots danced in front of his eyes.

Olof wanted to scratch his arm, but he couldn’t move. He wanted to tell whoever was holding his hand to go on their way. In the past he would have roared, but no sound came out.

Where am I? Can anyone tell me?

They leaned in over him. He wanted to tell them to go, to leave him in peace, but instead they gripped him and talked and said:

Olof? Can you hear me?

Olof?

Jesus Christ, it was itchy.





Chapter 54





Eira bought a bag of sweet buns before driving over the bridge and turning off towards Klockestrand.

The summerhouse was roughly where she remembered it, just slightly farther back from the road and not quite so close to the river. She saw her former colleague come around the corner of the building.

“I’ll be damned, I wasn’t expecting to see you.” Eilert Granlund greeted her the way people used to in the past: no unnecessary hugs, just a simple hand in the air.

Like the majority of people on that side of the river, he was overly fond of his veranda, which was well on its way to outgrowing the house itself.

“Every year I decide it could be a bit bigger,” said Eilert. “You need a project, you know? To keep you from dying early.”

He had a thermos of coffee ready, and Eira took the buns out of the bag. Eilert’s wife came over to say hello before returning to the flower bed she was building.

“What about you, how’s your project going?”

“I’m back on patrol,” said Eira.

“Did it all go to pot?”

“No, no.”

“But?”

“That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Shoot, baby,” said Eilert, tucking into one of the cinnamon buns. “But first how about a little leak about the man you found in Lockne?”

“I thought you hated the police leaking information?”

“To journalists, yes, but it’s different if it’s to an old fogey who doesn’t talk to anyone but the snails in his garden.”

Eilert’s laugh was as loud and bullish as she remembered it. The corridors had been much quieter since he retired.

Eira told him about the Dr. Martens boot. That was the kind of thing he liked, details that demonstrated the skills on the force. He even demanded to listen to Nirvana to really understand what grunge was.

“If your bloke was playing this at full volume,” he said, “then I can understand why someone in Lockne might have lost their patience.” Another salvo of laughter.

“I’ve been reading the preliminary investigation into Lina’s disappearance,” said Eira.