said.
‘Not that sort of secret,’ Elsie said with conviction. ‘If either of the girls had been on drugs, we would have known about it.’
Fredrika and Joar looked at each other, silently agreeing to change tack. The daughter was dead; there was no point discussing it further. And Jakob’s state of health would be better assessed by a doctor than an elderly couple who happened to be his acquaintances.
‘All right,’ said Fredrika. ‘If we disregard the most obvious line in this enquiry, namely that Jakob was the perpetrator, who else could have done it?’
There was silence.
‘Did Marja and Jakob have any enemies?’
Elsie and Sven looked at each other in surprise, as if the question had caught them unawares.
‘We’re all agreed that they’re dead,’ Joar said mildly. ‘But if it wasn’t Jakob, who was it? Were they involved in any kind of dispute, as far as you could tell?’
Elsie and Sven both shook their heads and looked down at the floor.
‘Not as far as we could tell,’ Elsie said wanly.
‘Jakob’s work with refugees made him quite a prominent figure, of course,’ said Fredrika. ‘Did that ever create problems for him?’
Sven straightened up instantly. Elsie tucked back a lock of grey hair that was hanging down over her pale cheek.
‘No, not that we ever heard,’ said Sven.
‘But it was an issue he felt very strongly about?’
‘Yes indeed. His own mother came from Finland, and then stayed here. I’m sure he saw himself as being of immigrant stock.’
‘And what did his work comprise, exactly?’ Joar asked with a frown, sitting back down in the armchair.
Elsie looked shifty, as though she did not know what to say.
‘Well, he was involved with all sorts of organisations and so on,’ she replied. ‘He gave lectures to lots of groups. Was very good at it, at getting his message across, just like when he was preaching.’
‘Men and women of the Church sometimes hide illegal migrants,’ Joar went on, with a lack of subtlety that surprised Fredrika. ‘Was he one of those?’
Sven took a gulp of coffee before he answered and Elsie said nothing.
‘Not as far as we were aware,’ came Sven’s reply at last. ‘But yes, there were rumours of that kind.’
Fredrika glanced at her watch and then at Joar. He gave a nod.
‘Well, thank you for letting us take up your time,’ he said, and put his visiting card on the table. ‘We shall probably need to come back and speak to you again, I’m afraid.’
‘You’re welcome to come whenever you need to,’ Elsie said quickly. ‘It’s important to us, being able to help.’
‘Thank you for that,’ said Fredrika, and followed Joar into the hall.
‘By the way, do you know where we can get hold of the couple’s other daughter, Johanna? We’ve done all we can to contact her, so she doesn’t hear about her parents’ death from the media,’ said Joar.
Elsie blinked, hesitated.
‘Johanna? She’ll be on one of her trips abroad, I imagine.’
‘You don’t happen to have her mobile phone number?’
Elsie pursed her lips and shook her head.
They had put on their coats and were on their way out when Elsie said: ‘Why didn’t they cancel?’
Fredrika stopped, half a metre from the door.
‘Pardon?’
‘If the girl had died of an overdose,’ Elsie said, her voice tense, ‘why didn’t they cancel the dinner party? I talked to Marja yesterday, and she sounded her usual calm, cheerful self. And Jakob was playing his clarinet in the background, the way he often did. Why were they behaving like that if they knew their own deaths were only hours away?’
BANGKOK, THAILAND
The darkness had wrapped Bangkok in a blanket of night by the time she gave up. She had been to no less than three internet cafés in the naïve hope that one of her two email addresses would work, but in vain. The system just kept telling her she had typed in either the wrong user name or the wrong password, and should try again.
She was dripping
‘Not that sort of secret,’ Elsie said with conviction. ‘If either of the girls had been on drugs, we would have known about it.’
Fredrika and Joar looked at each other, silently agreeing to change tack. The daughter was dead; there was no point discussing it further. And Jakob’s state of health would be better assessed by a doctor than an elderly couple who happened to be his acquaintances.
‘All right,’ said Fredrika. ‘If we disregard the most obvious line in this enquiry, namely that Jakob was the perpetrator, who else could have done it?’
There was silence.
‘Did Marja and Jakob have any enemies?’
Elsie and Sven looked at each other in surprise, as if the question had caught them unawares.
‘We’re all agreed that they’re dead,’ Joar said mildly. ‘But if it wasn’t Jakob, who was it? Were they involved in any kind of dispute, as far as you could tell?’
Elsie and Sven both shook their heads and looked down at the floor.
‘Not as far as we could tell,’ Elsie said wanly.
‘Jakob’s work with refugees made him quite a prominent figure, of course,’ said Fredrika. ‘Did that ever create problems for him?’
Sven straightened up instantly. Elsie tucked back a lock of grey hair that was hanging down over her pale cheek.
‘No, not that we ever heard,’ said Sven.
‘But it was an issue he felt very strongly about?’
‘Yes indeed. His own mother came from Finland, and then stayed here. I’m sure he saw himself as being of immigrant stock.’
‘And what did his work comprise, exactly?’ Joar asked with a frown, sitting back down in the armchair.
Elsie looked shifty, as though she did not know what to say.
‘Well, he was involved with all sorts of organisations and so on,’ she replied. ‘He gave lectures to lots of groups. Was very good at it, at getting his message across, just like when he was preaching.’
‘Men and women of the Church sometimes hide illegal migrants,’ Joar went on, with a lack of subtlety that surprised Fredrika. ‘Was he one of those?’
Sven took a gulp of coffee before he answered and Elsie said nothing.
‘Not as far as we were aware,’ came Sven’s reply at last. ‘But yes, there were rumours of that kind.’
Fredrika glanced at her watch and then at Joar. He gave a nod.
‘Well, thank you for letting us take up your time,’ he said, and put his visiting card on the table. ‘We shall probably need to come back and speak to you again, I’m afraid.’
‘You’re welcome to come whenever you need to,’ Elsie said quickly. ‘It’s important to us, being able to help.’
‘Thank you for that,’ said Fredrika, and followed Joar into the hall.
‘By the way, do you know where we can get hold of the couple’s other daughter, Johanna? We’ve done all we can to contact her, so she doesn’t hear about her parents’ death from the media,’ said Joar.
Elsie blinked, hesitated.
‘Johanna? She’ll be on one of her trips abroad, I imagine.’
‘You don’t happen to have her mobile phone number?’
Elsie pursed her lips and shook her head.
They had put on their coats and were on their way out when Elsie said: ‘Why didn’t they cancel?’
Fredrika stopped, half a metre from the door.
‘Pardon?’
‘If the girl had died of an overdose,’ Elsie said, her voice tense, ‘why didn’t they cancel the dinner party? I talked to Marja yesterday, and she sounded her usual calm, cheerful self. And Jakob was playing his clarinet in the background, the way he often did. Why were they behaving like that if they knew their own deaths were only hours away?’
BANGKOK, THAILAND
The darkness had wrapped Bangkok in a blanket of night by the time she gave up. She had been to no less than three internet cafés in the naïve hope that one of her two email addresses would work, but in vain. The system just kept telling her she had typed in either the wrong user name or the wrong password, and should try again.
She was dripping
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