Part 26 (1/2)

Schorner orders the others to keep quiet as he draws his pistol and approaches the hut.

It is only when he does this that Kerttu becomes vaguely aware that Viebke will feel that she has betrayed him. That had not occurred to her before. It had all been a sort of adventure.

Schorner and the other soldiers walk cautiously towards the hut. They go inside. After a short while they come out again.

”There's n.o.body here,” Schorner says disapprovingly.

He looks accusingly at Kerttu.

She opens her mouth to defend herself. She was here only yesterday with Viebke and met the Danes. Nice chaps, all three of them.

At that very moment they hear voices not far away in the woods. Laughter. It is the Danes. Schorner and the others hurry back into the trees. Dragging Kerttu with him, he whispers that she should lie down and keep quiet.

Here they come, walking through the trees. Viebke and the Danes. He is so handsome with his curly hair and happy laugh. They have been fis.h.i.+ng. Viebke is carrying a pike and three perch. He has threaded a switch of willow through their gills. He is holding a pipe in his other hand. The Danes are carrying fis.h.i.+ng rods made of birch branches.

Kerttu's spirits rise when she sees Viebke. Then her stomach ties itself in a knot.

Sonja on the switchboard transfers the incoming call to Martinsson's mobile.

Martinsson has been out for a walk with the dogs. The afternoon sun is exuding warmth. Tintin and Vera are strutting around, exploring the parking area in front of the house. Vera is digging away eagerly at the woodpile, sending wet soil and moss flying in all directions. Some poor field mouse is no doubt sitting petrified underneath all the wood, its heart pounding, convinced that its end is nigh. Tintin waltzes off towards the paddock where the neighbour keeps his horses. They are used to dogs, and do not even condescend to glance at her. She finds a lovely pile of horse manure, guzzles down half of it, then rolls around in what is left. Martinsson decides not to intervene. She can put both dogs in the shower when they eventually come inside. Then they can lie in front of the fire to dry. She considers ringing Krister Eriksson and telling him how his pretty miss behaves the moment his back is turned. Joking about having made up her mind that she needs a holiday so that she can become a dog.

No sooner has she registered the thought than the phone rings. At first she thinks it is Eriksson sensing that she has been thinking about him, but then she realizes that it is the police switchboard. After Sonja tells her she has a call, Martinsson hears a man clearing his throat.

”Er, hi. It's Hjalmar Krekula. I want to profess,” he says.

Then corrects himself.

”Confess.”

”I see,” she says.

h.e.l.l and d.a.m.nation, she thinks. No tape recorder handy, nothing.

”It was me who killed them. Wilma Persson. And Simon Kyro.”

There's something wrong. Martinsson can feel it in her bones. She can hear that he is in his car. Where is he going?

Thoughts as quick as swimming vipers.

”O.K.,” she says calmly. ”I'd like to record this. Can you come to the police station?”

Holding the receiver away from her face, she swallows. He must not hear that she is worried or afraid.

”No.”

”We can come to you. Are you at home?”

”No. This will have to do. I've said it now. So now you know.”

No, no. He must not hang up. She can see a little boy in front of her, his eyes red with crying.

”No, that won't do,” she says. ”How do I know that you're telling the truth? People ring us to make confessions all the time.”

But he has already hung up.

”s.h.i.+t, s.h.i.+t, s.h.i.+t!” she yells, making the dogs pause and look at her.

But as soon as they realize that she is not angry with them, they continue about their business. Vera has found a pine cone and laid it at Tintin's feet. Backing off a few paces, she has crouched down. Come on, she is saying. Let's have a game. See if you can grab it before I do. Tintin yawns demonstratively.

Martinsson tries to ring Anna-Maria Mella, but there is no answer. ”Ring me right away,” she tells the answering machine.

She looks at the dogs. Vera has soil and clay on her legs and belly. Tintin has applied horse-s.h.i.+t perfume to her neck and behind her ears.

”Filthy swine,” she says to them. ”Criminals. What the h.e.l.l do I do now?”

The moment she says that, she knows. She must drive to his house. So that he does not. So that he does not. The dogs. She will have to take them with her. Despite the filthy state they are in.

”You're coming with me,” she says to them.

But no. n.o.body answers the door when she gets to Hjalmar's place. Martinsson trudges all the way round the house through the wet snow, peering in through the windows. She knocks on them as well. But she decides that he is not at home. And his car is not there.

Anni Autio. Maybe she will know.

n.o.body opens the door at Anni's house either.

A flock of ravens is circling above the house, round and round.

What's the matter with them? Martinsson wonders.

The door is unlocked, so she goes in.

Anni is lying on the kitchen sofa. Her eyes are closed.

”Sorry to disturb you,” Martinsson says.

Anni opens one eye.

”Yes, well . . . the door wasn't locked, so . . . I'm looking for Hjalmar Krekula. You're his aunt, aren't you, Anni? Aren't you? Do you know where he is?”

”No.”

She closes her eye again.

If I were him, Martinsson thinks, I'd run away to my cottage.

”Does he have a cottage somewhere?”

”If I tell you where it is, and I can draw you a map, will you leave me in peace? I don't want to hear his name ever again. I don't want to speak to anybody. Help me up. You'll find pen and paper on the countertop, by the scales.”

What if I get there too late, Martinsson thinks as she drives like a madwoman along the E10 and then turns off along the Kuosanen road down to the River Kalix. What if he has shot himself? What if he is lying on the floor in a pool of blood? If the back of his head has been shot away? If he does not have any face left? That could be what is in store for me. It could be.