Some Kind of Peace (35 page)

Vijay leans forward in the biting wind, his thin coat fluttering behind him like a tattered sail. We’ve left his office at the department and are now walking along Brunnsviken toward Haga Park. It is a beautiful day. For the first time in two weeks, the sun is shining. The sky is light blue and thin, veil-like clouds are quickly moving north. The only disturbance is the powerful gusts of wind that almost make us fall down on the narrow path. The snow has melted away and left smooth, wet patches of ice behind. I lose my balance for a moment and Vijay takes hold of my arm.

“Be careful, Siri!”

His reaction sounds so ominous that I start laughing. He has told me to be careful on so many occasions recently that it feels like they are all flowing together. This time I can actually do as he says. I concentrate on where I set my feet.

I told Vijay about Peter Carlsson. Not using specifics, I sheathed his story in veils of mist, changed facts and details so that he will not be recognizable. I am still tormented by the thought of breaching confidentiality and hurting an already vulnerable man. I cannot say anything to the police without having more to go on, but at the same time, I cannot get rid of my fear that it just may be Peter—I can’t get his descriptions of violence and death out of my head. My fear has escalated after what Aina said about Peter’s car. I feel like a gigantic wave has washed over me, making me lose composure and control. And for that reason, I have to talk with Vijay.

“What do you think, Vijay?”

He throws up his arms and I am close to losing my balance again.

“What do we know about the man we’re looking for?”

Vijay’s question is rhetorical and I let him continue.

“We think he is middle aged, well educated, has plenty of money. He
is well organized. Easily offended. And very, very driven. He is a man with a mission.”

Vijay stares out over the dark-blue water of Brunnsviken, where the waves are topped with foam. He looks resolute and worried, but I don’t know what is really bothering him.

“We also think he had some kind of nonsexual relationship with Sara. For some reason, he chose not to be intimate with her. The patient you told me about actually doesn’t match the pattern. He does not seem to have any personal connection to you. It is hard to find a tenable motive. True, he has some knowledge about the practice and he knows at least one of your patients personally. But what really makes me hesitate is the complexity of his problems. A man with the type of compulsive thoughts you describe is not really credible as the perpetrator, assuming he’s not manipulating you during your sessions. To my ears, it just sounds like compulsive thoughts. His fear is that he might lose control and for some reason start doing crazy things that he really doesn’t want to do at all. More or less like new mothers who hide all the medicines and hazardous things in the house because they get compulsive thoughts about harming their babies. He’s afraid of harming what he holds dear. But you’ve already thought about all this, right?”

Vijay turns to me and I nod in response. Of course this is something I have already thought about. I think about the conversations Sven and I had about Peter Carlsson at the end of August. That feels like ages ago.

“So,” Vijay continues, “the alternative is that this man has simply faked his symptoms. That he thought up this whole story to scare you. And to get close to you. That he gets a kick out of being able to trick you. People with this type of personality disorder enjoy feeling intellectually superior. And the man who killed Sara harbors a strong, exaggerated hatred toward you. A hatred so great that he doesn’t hesitate to hurt others to get at you. He killed Sara Matteus. He… stuffed your cat… that is
horribly
sick. Deceiving you would be yet another way of humiliating you. Of getting at you.”

I close my eyes and see Peter Carlsson’s face before me. His blue eyes and combed hair, his manicured nails, the silk tie. I remember him as a
very unhappy man. His suffering felt genuine, his shame and his tears, but also his eagerness when I hit the mark with my questions. I cannot believe that Peter Carlsson is Sara’s murderer. As if Vijay can read my mind, he continues.

“You can’t know, Siri. It is impossible for you to know for sure. I’ve met murderers who were part of search parties looking for missing children they themselves had killed. Perpetrators who fooled experienced police officers. You just can’t know for sure.”

“But what should I do?”

My question remains hanging in the air between us.

Vijay says nothing at first, but then turns toward me. “Have you talked to Markus about this?”

“Markus has been removed from the investigation.”

I look away to avoid Vijay’s eyes. I wait for a comment or a question, but he remains silent. Instead, I feel his hand stroking my coat sleeve. Vijay understands that this is not the time to ask questions.

“Maybe you should talk to him anyway. Even if he isn’t working on this case, he’s still a policeman. You are still talking to him, aren’t you?”

I nod to confirm that I am—more than ever before.

“What do we really know about Sven? About why he had to resign and all that,” I ask quietly, without looking up at Vijay.

I had considered bringing up this subject with him earlier. He works at the university, socializes in academic circles, and ought to know more about the inside gossip than Aina or I do.

Vijay seems baffled. “Sven? Sven Widelius?”

“Is it true that he was kicked out of the university?”

“Oh,
that
old story.” Vijay grins and lights a cigarette. “Sure, he got kicked out. He had an affair with a student, a psychology major. It probably wouldn’t have been any big deal if he wasn’t also her supervisor for her thesis. Besides, there was a rumor going around that the girl wasn’t stable.”

“Not stable?”

“Depressed, vulnerable. I don’t know, people say a lot of crap.”

“What happened?”

“Someone tattled to the department chair. I don’t know who, I guess no one really knows. There was speculation that it could have been one of the girl’s classmates. The whole thing was hushed up. Sven got severance pay, stopped doing research, and started devoting himself entirely to his private practice. The girl disappeared, I don’t know what happened to her.”

Vijay stops talking and looks pensive.

“Although this is something you should already know, Siri. At least in part.”

“Me? How so?”

“You were students together, she was in your study group. Anna Svensson.”

“Anna Svensson?”

I remember a shy girl who joined our study group at the end of the eighth semester and with whom I tried to strike up a conversation a couple of times, but we never really got to know each other.

“I didn’t know her, and I don’t remember any gossip about her either. I was busy writing my thesis during those final semesters.”

“You’re probably right,” Vijay answers. “There wasn’t any gossip back then. What I know I only found out later. And from the faculty, not the students. At any rate, Sven took it really hard. Birgitta was close to leaving him, and his career was in ruins. He had his sights set on a position as professor in clinical psychology. Why are you asking me about this?”

I don’t know how to answer. I don’t want to suggest that I sometimes have thoughts about Sven and the remote possibility that he might be involved in all this. I realize that this would sound more paranoid than is permissible.

“He just seems down. I thought maybe he was dissatisfied about something, his marriage or his career or… you know…”

“Yes, I know.”

Vijay coughs and changes the subject. “So you’re still working at the practice as usual?”

“Sure, but less than before. Why?”

“Have you moved out of your cottage?”

“Yes, yes. I’ve moved. After that thing with Ziggy… I wasn’t up to staying.” I can tell my voice sounds small and thin, like a child’s.

“But I’m thinking about moving back as soon as I can.”

Vijay is silent and cowers in the wind, takes a deep inhale, and flicks away the cigarette butt. Then he shoves his hands deep into his coat pockets and looks at me for a long time before he continues.

“I don’t think you’ve realized what a risk you’re exposing yourself to. This guy is serious, Siri. He’s dangerous. I don’t think he only wants to harm you, only wants you to suffer. I think he wants to kill you.”

He falls silent and looks at me again. Slowly and with emphasis he repeats the last sentence.

“I think he wants to kill you.”

It is evening and the office is empty. I have stayed behind to take care of various administrative tasks that have been piling up. At least this is what I told Aina and Sven. My real plan is to go through Sven’s patient case notes about Peter Carlsson. I know this is unethical, possibly even a violation of confidentiality, but I have to know.

I sit at the reception desk with the paper copies of the case notes spread out in front of me, like a game of solitaire. Unlike me, Sven seldom records conversations on tape. I don’t really think he has anything against filming his sessions, but I suspect the procedure is a bit too time-consuming and detailed to suit him. Sven is careless and disorganized and doesn’t want to work more than necessary on administrative tasks. On the other hand, he is a brilliant clinician, and I hope that some of this will be reflected in his notes.

Despite my conviction that I am doing the right thing, I can’t bring myself to start reading. Vijay’s words have frightened me more than I want to admit. Vijay is a level-headed man. There is nothing theatrical or emotional about him. During all the years I have known him, I have never seen him agitated before, until today. I realize that he is right. I have to be more careful. My decision to stay in the house so long suddenly seems incomprehensible. How could I have been so stupid? It’s as if I wanted to avoid acknowledging that I really was being threatened. That I really
am
being threatened. I take the topmost papers from the pile and start reading.

The first note contains a few short lines about Peter Carlsson’s change of therapist and the circumstances of that change. Then there are case notes from two additional sessions neatly written out.

          
Reason for contact:
Patient comes to the practice for an initial assessment interview with the undersigned. For further description of the circumstances around transfer from the patient’s former therapist, Siri Bergman, see the previous note.

          
Current:
Patient is a thirty-eight-year-old man who comes to the office due to sexual compulsive thoughts with sadistic components. Has never had any previous contact of a psychological/psychiatric nature. He says that he is very bothered by these thoughts and explains that they basically affect all aspects of his everyday life. He experiences them as very frightening, giving rise to strong anxiety. Pat. explains that these thoughts started in his late teens, at the time he was in his first sexual relationship with a woman. Already early in the relationship intrusive thoughts occurred about harming his girlfriend. He tried then to actively dismiss these thoughts but states that this was not particularly effective. Pat. decided to break off the relationship out of fear that he would harm his girlfriend. He has thereafter avoided relationships with women out of fear that the compulsive thoughts would return and eventually lead to his actually harming someone. During the spring, however, pat. met a woman. He says that he is very much in love with her but that he is incapable of approaching her sexually out of fear that he will harm her. He describes their relationship as warm and loving. His girlfriend insists, however, that the couple should also have a sexual relationship. Pat. has told his girlfriend that he has problems with his sexuality and promised to seek help. He has not told her the true nature of his problems. Pat. emphasizes that he is not an aggressive man and that he has never harmed anyone deliberately. He completely denies that these thoughts are pleasurable for him.
His wish is now to get help so that these intrusive thoughts go away.