The Fire Witness (39 page)

Flora stumbles to her feet as she stares at the screaming mouth and is just about to call for the detective when she really does see the girl.

She’s climbed into the cupboard and is trying to shut the door behind her, but it won’t close while she’s inside. It swings open. The girl is standing still and her hands are in front of her face. Then her fingers glide open and she looks at Flora with one eye.

Flora stares at the girl.

She’s saying something but Flora can’t make out the words.

Flora walks closer and says, “I can’t hear what you’re saying.”

“I’m pregnant,” the girl says. She takes her hands away from her face. She touches the back of her head in surprise, brings her hand back, and stares at the blood. She sways. Blood has started to flow from her head down her back and onto the cupboard floor.

She opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, her head shakes and her thin legs give way.

Joona hears something crash in the room next door. He rushes in and sees Flora lying on the floor in front of a cupboard that has fallen over. She sits up and looks at him in confusion.

“I saw her. She’s pregnant.”

Joona helps Flora to her feet.

“Did you ask what happened?”

Flora shakes her head and looks at the cupboard.

“Nobody is allowed to see anything,” she whispers.

“What are you trying to say?”

“Miranda said she was pregnant.” Flora is crying now and starts to walk away.

She dries her tears, looks back at the fallen cupboard, and abruptly leaves the room.

Joona takes Flora’s coat from the chair and follows her. She’s already halfway up the stairs to the street.

144

Flora is sitting on the steps in front of Carlén Antiques. She’s buttoning her coat. Color is coming back to her face, but she says nothing. Joona has his cell phone to his ear and has just called Nils Åhlén, the head of forensic medicine at Karolinska Hospital.

“Wait a sec,” Joona hears The Needle say. “I’ve just gotten a smartphone.”

There’s static in Joona’s ear.

“Yes? What can I do for you, Joona?”

“I have a short question,” Joona says.

“By the way, Frippe’s in love,” The Needle says in his nasal voice.

“How nice,” Joona says.

“I’m afraid that he’ll be miserable if things don’t work out,” The Needle continues. “You know what I’m saying?”

“Yes, but—”

“So what was your question?”

“Was Miranda Eriksdotter pregnant?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You remember, the girl who—”

“I remember everyone,” The Needle says.

“You do? You never told me that.”

“You never asked.”

Flora has gotten to her feet and is smiling anxiously.

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Absolutely,” The Needle says. “She couldn’t even get pregnant.”

“She couldn’t?”

“She had large cysts on her ovaries.”

“All right. Now I know. Thanks. Oh, and say hi to Frippe.”

“Will do.”

Joona ends the conversation and looks at Flora. Flora’s smile starts to fade.

“Why do you do things like this?” Joona asks in a serious tone. “You told me the murdered girl was pregnant, but she couldn’t even get pregnant.”

Flora gestures back to the door to the basement. “I remember that she—”

“But it isn’t true,” Joona says. “She wasn’t pregnant.”

“I meant to say,” Flora whispers. “I meant to say she thought she was pregnant. She wasn’t pregnant, but she thought she was. She believed it.”

“
Jumala
,” Joona swears in Finnish. He starts to walk along Upplandsgatan toward his car.

145

The food is just a touch too expensive. Daniel is embarrassed as he looks through the wine list. He asks Elin if she wants to choose, but she shakes her head with a smile. He clears his throat weakly and asks the waiter about the house wine, but before he gets an answer, he changes his mind and asks the waiter to recommend a red wine. The young man looks through the wine list and offers three wines in three different price categories. Daniel chooses the cheapest, saying that the South African pinot noir would be perfect.

The waiter thanks him and takes the menus and the wine list. There’s a family eating at another table.

“You didn’t have to invite me for dinner,” says Elin.

“I wanted to,” he says, smiling.

“It was very nice of you,” she says. She sips some water.

A waitress comes and changes their silverware and wineglasses, but Elin continues to speak as if she’s not there.

“Vicky’s lawyer has resigned from the case,” she says in a low voice. “But my family lawyer, Johannes Grünewald, has agreed to take it on.”

“It will all work out,” Daniel says in a calming manner.

“There won’t be any more interrogations because she’s confessed,” Elin says. She clears her throat carefully. “I can also see how Vicky’s background fits. Foster homes, institutions, running away, violence—everything points to her. Still, I don’t believe she’s guilty.”

“I know,” Daniel says.

Elin lowers her face as her tears start to run. Daniel gets up and gives her a hug.

“Sorry I keep talking about Vicky,” she says, shaking her head. “It’s just that you’ve said that you don’t believe she did it. I mean, otherwise I wouldn’t have … But it seems as if you and I are the only ones who believe she’s innocent.”

“Elin,” he says, “I don’t believe anything at all. It’s just that the Vicky I knew was not capable of this.”

“May I ask you a question? Tuula seems to have seen Vicky and Miranda together,” Elin says.

“That night?”

“No, earlier…” Elin falls silent and Daniel holds her shoulders and tries to catch her eyes.

“What is it?”

“Vicky and Miranda played some game, where they held their hands over their face,” Elin says. “I don’t want to tell the police because that would add to their evidence.”

“But Elin—”

“Perhaps it doesn’t mean anything,” Elin says quickly. “I’m going to ask Vicky when I have a chance. She should be able to explain what they were doing.”

“What if she can’t?”

He falls silent as the waiter returns with the bottle of wine. Elin dries her tears and Daniel returns to his seat. He places his napkin on his knee and then tastes the wine. His hand shakes.

“Good,” he says, a little too quickly.

They are silent while the wine is poured. They thank the waiter and look carefully at each other when they’re left alone.

“I want to foster Vicky again,” Elin says in a serious tone.

“Are you sure?”

“Do you think I’m not up to it?” She smiles.

“It’s not that, Elin,” he says. “Vicky is suicidal. She’s gotten better but she still has a great deal of self-destructive behavior.”

“Does she cut herself?”

“She cuts herself and she overdoses. In my opinion, she’ll need twenty-four-hour care.”

“So you wouldn’t recommend me?”

“She needs professional help,” Daniel says. “I mean, I don’t think she got enough care at Birgittagården, actually. We didn’t have the money for it, but—”

“What does she need?”

“People to care for her around the clock.”

“And therapy?”

“I only had one hour a week with each student, sometimes two. It was much too little if you—”

Elin’s cell phone rings and she excuses herself as she looks at the display. It’s Johannes Grünewald, so she answers right away.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“I’ve looked into the matter and the prosecutor has decided that the girl will be arraigned without further interrogation,” the lawyer replies. “I’m going to talk to the court about the time for arraignment, but we’ll need a few more hours.”

“Will Vicky accept help from us?”

“I talked to her and she’s hired me as her lawyer.”

“Did you mention me?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Did she say anything?”

“Well, she said … They’ve medicated her and—”

“What did she say about me?”

“Nothing at all.”

Daniel can see a wave of pain pass over Elin’s beautiful face.

“Meet me at the hospital,” she says. “It’s just as well to talk to her directly before we go much further.”

“Good.”

“How soon can you get there?”

“Twenty minutes at the earliest, it should—”

“Good, I’ll see you there,” she says, and ends the call. She looks at Daniel, who has a questioning look.

“Okay then,” she says. “Vicky has taken Johannes on as her lawyer. I have to go now.”

“Now? But we haven’t eaten yet!”

“I know … I’m sorry.” She gets up. “Maybe we can meet for dessert later on.”

“Of course,” he says with a weak smile.

“Would you like to come with me to Söder Hospital?”

“I don’t think I’m up to it,” he replies.

“I don’t mean that you should see her,” she says swiftly. “I was thinking of myself. I would feel calmer if I knew you were waiting outside.”

“Elin, it’s just … I haven’t come so far that I can think about Vicky … I need more time. Elisabet is dead and even if Vicky didn’t do it—”

“I understand,” Elin says. “It wouldn’t be good for you to see her.”

“Or maybe it would,” he says. “Maybe it would help me start to remember. I just have no idea how I would react.”

146

Vicky turns her face away when Saga enters the room. White straps around her ankles and wrists and a belt across her chest tie the girl to the bed.

“Take away the straps,” Saga says.

“I can’t do that,” the nurse says.

“It’s a good thing that they’re scared of me,” Vicky says.

“Have you been kept like this all night?” asks Saga as she sits down on the chair beside the bed.

“Yeah.”

Vicky is lying with her face turned away.

“I’m going to meet your new lawyer,” Saga says. “There’s going to be an arraignment later today and he needs the transcript of the interrogation.”

“I just get so angry sometimes.”

“The interrogation is over, Vicky.”

“Can’t I talk?” She turns her head to look at Saga.

“It would be best if you asked your lawyer for his advice first before you—”

“But if I want to,” she says.

“You can talk, but it won’t be recorded,” Saga says calmly.

“It’s like a strong wind,” Vicky tells her. “Everything just … It thunders in my ears and I go along so I don’t fall over.”

Saga looks at the girl’s bitten fingernails and then repeats in a calm, almost indifferent voice, “Like a strong wind.”

“I can’t explain. It’s like one time … They hurt Simon really bad. He was a little boy. We were in the same foster home,” Vicky says. Her mouth is trembling. “The big boy in the family, he was their real son, he was mean to Simon. He’d torture him. Everybody knew. I even talked to the social worker about it, but nobody cared.”

“What happened?”

“I came into the kitchen. The big boy had forced Simon’s hands into a pot of boiling water and the mom was there and she wasn’t doing anything. She looked totally afraid. I was seeing all of it and I got really strange and suddenly I found myself hitting them and cutting them up with a piece of glass.”

Vicky pulls at the straps. Her body is tense, but she calms down when there’s a knock at the door.

A gray-haired man wearing a dark blue suit enters the room.

“I’m Johannes Grünewald,” he says as he shakes hands with Saga.

“Here’s the latest transcript,” Saga says, and hands him a folder.

“Thanks,” Johannes says. “I don’t have to read it right away. I managed to get the arraignment moved to tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t want to wait,” says Vicky.

“I understand, but I still have some work to do on your case,” he says, smiling. “And there’s someone I want you to meet before we start going through all sorts of questions.”

Vicky looks up and her eyes grow wide as she sees the woman who heads straight for her without stopping to greet the police officers. Elin Frank’s eyes are shimmering and nervous. Her lips tremble as she realizes the girl is strapped to the bed.

“Hello,” Elin says.

Vicky looks away as Elin gently unfastens the straps.

“May I sit down?” she asks. Her voice is thick with emotion.

Vicky’s gaze becomes hard and she does not say anything.

“Do you remember me?” asks Elin.

Elin’s throat hurts from the words she can’t force out and the sobs she can barely control.

A church bell starts ringing somewhere in the city.

Vicky touches Elin’s wrist and then withdraws her finger.

“We have the same bandages.” Elin smiles. “You and me.”

Vicky turns her face away.

“I don’t know whether you remember me,” Elin says. “You stayed with me when you were a little girl. I was just a temporary foster mother, but I’ve never stopped thinking about you.”

She takes a deep breath. Then her voice breaks: “I know I betrayed you, Vicky. I wasn’t up to taking care of you.”

Elin is studying the girl in the bed: her messy hair, her worried forehead, the dark rings around her eyes, the wounds on her face.

“I know that to you I’m nothing. Just another person in a long line of people who’ve let you down.” Elin has to stop speaking and swallow hard before she can continue.

“The prosecutor wants you in jail, but I don’t think that jail is the right place for you. It’s not good for anyone to be locked up.”

Vicky shakes her head. The gesture is barely noticeable, but Elin sees it and her voice is intense as she says, “It’s really important that you listen to what Johannes and I have to tell you.”

147

There’s an arraignment room on the ground floor of the National Police building. It’s a simple conference room with chairs, a desk, and a table of lacquered fir. About twenty journalists have already collected in the glass-enclosed foyer and TV vans are parked on Polhemsgatan.

The hard rain of the previous night has streaked the triple-paned windows of the arraignment room, and wet leaves are stuck to the white window frames. A uniformed policeman is standing by the wall next to the door, and the judge, an older man with bushy eyebrows, sits behind the desk.