“And why would somebody want to kill you?” Olivia Lundkvist asks.
“As it says in the text message, she has my lost daughter . . .”
“So you also have a daughter?”
“I told you that the last time we met,” I say. “She disappeared twenty-one years ago. It’s the same person. The woman who kidnapped my child drove into Milo believing he was me. She wants to stop me, make me stop.”
The detectives exchange glances. Olivia Lundkvist picks up the phone again and reads.
“But that’s not exactly what it says here, is it?” she says, looking at me. “It doesn’t say anywhere here that she kidnapped your daughter twenty-one years ago?”
“No, not in so many words,” I say. Impatient now. “Read it. It says she wants to see me dead. It says that I should let them be, because she’s mine now. She writes that I put all my children in danger, then she must know something about my daughter, too, right?”
“I’d like to ask you about that. In what way have you put your son in danger? Can you tell me about that?”
I clench my jaw. Feel like I might just fly into a fit of rage.
Henrik squeezes my arm. “What is the purpose of these questions?” he says. “We are reporting that our son has been run over. That my wife has been threatened. In addition, we have confirmation that she was the target. You read the text. Shouldn’t you focus on that? Or do you not take that seriously?”
“Of course we take it very seriously,” Mats Hedin says with a smile I don’t like. “But unfortunately, Stella, we have to ask where you were last Friday.”
Both of them look at me. Henrik, too.
“Last Friday?” I say. “I have no idea what I did last Friday.”
“I’ll help you remember,” Olivia Lundkvist says. “You tracked down Isabelle Karlsson. Do you remember now? Or do you need more detail? You were outside her home, even though you’d been instructed to stay away. You were so upset you threw yourself onto her on the street outside her door.”
That was that Friday. My last desperate attempt.
“I was there, but I didn’t throw myself on her.”
“According to our information, you behaved in both an aggressive and confused way.”
“I was not aggressive. Absolutely not.”
“But you were confused?”
“I might have been out of balance.”
Olivia Lundkvist puckers her lips. “And what time did this happen?”
“Around eleven, twelve, I think.”
“And what did you do the rest of the day?”
“First, I went home for a while. Then to Milo’s school, maybe around three. Went out with Henrik for a bit in the afternoon.”
Olivia Lundkvist looks at Henrik.
“Sound right?”
“Yes,” he replies.
“And later that night? Between, say, six and ten?”
“Then I was at home.”
“Can you confirm that?” Olivia Lundkvist looks at Henrik again.
I know he can’t, and I start to get a sinking feeling in my stomach.
“What is this about?” he wonders. “Do we need to contact our lawyer?”
“You are free to do as you please,” Olivia Lundkvist replies. “But it will make things easier if you cooperate.”
“I wasn’t home,” says Henrik. “I dropped off Stella around four-thirty, five, I think. Went directly to an event at work. There are at least twenty-five, thirty people who can confirm where I was.”
“No need,” Olivia Lundkvist says. “Did you party?”
Henrik looks at her steadily. “Why? Is that illegal now?”
“When did you get home?” she asks.
“Late. I may have a taxi receipt somewhere.”
“Half past three,” I say. “I drove to a friend’s. Shortly after Henrik came home. You can ask her when I got there. Pernilla Dahl.”
“Why did you go there?” Olivia Lundkvist asks.
“We had a fight.”
“What was the fight about?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? In my experience fights are almost always about something. But maybe that’s not the case for the two of you?”
“There was a misunderstanding,” I say, looking at Henrik. He smiles. I look at the police. “Just a silly misunderstanding.”
“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” Mats Hedin says. “What kind of misunderstanding are we talking about here?”
“I thought my wife had met someone else. I was jealous,” Henrik says. “That wasn’t the case. I was wrong. Satisfied?”
Mats Hedin squirms, and Olivia Lundkvist looks scornfully at Henrik.
“So between half past four in the afternoon and maybe four the next morning nobody can confirm where you were?” Mats Hedin says to me.
“No. Why do you want to know this?”
“Isabelle Karlsson has been reported missing,” Olivia Lundkvist says.
“Missing? But I know where—”
“Wait.” Detective Olivia Lundkvist holds up her hand. “Isabelle has been missing from school. Which has apparently never happened before. She hasn’t updated her status on Facebook. There has been no social media activity since last Saturday. She hasn’t answered her cellphone for several days. Her boyfriend and roommate are convinced something has happened to her.”
Olivia Lundkvist leans forward and studies me.
“According to Isabelle’s boyfriend, she was worried someone was stalking her. You’ve had a report filed against you for just that reason. Besides her mother, you are the last one to see Isabelle. Which you have just confirmed. You might as well tell us. Or do we have to take you down to the station?”
“We’re done here,” Henrik says. “This conversation is over. If you have any further questions, please take them up with our lawyer.” He is about to stand up, but I put a hand on his arm.
“I know where she is,” I say.
“Oh, really?” Detective Olivia Lundkvist leans back. “Then I think you better tell me.”
“I called Kerstin Karlsson yesterday and—”
“Why?” Olivia Lundkvist interrupts. “You were supposed to keep your distance and not contact them. Not under any circumstances.”
“But can’t you hear what I’m saying? Isabelle is in Borlänge. With Kerstin Karlsson. She’s the one you need to talk to.”
“We have already spoken to Isabelle’s mother,” Mats Hedin says. “And Isabelle is not there.”
“Kerstin is lying. She is there,” I say. “I spoke to her. She sounded drugged. Call your colleagues in Dalarna. Send them immediately before Kerstin disappears with my daughter. Again.”
“Isabelle is Kerstin’s daughter, as far as we know. But we know you have another opinion.”
“Is this how you do your police work? You have a missing person, and I know where she is. Isabelle is in Borlänge, on Faluvägen. Look it up.”
“You need to calm down,” Mats Hedin says. “You’re the one who has a complaint against them. Nobody else. And if I were you I’d try to remember that. You’re also a hairsbreadth from being under suspicion for the disappearance of Isabelle Karlsson. There is nobody else who has such a strong motive. Who’s already shown such excessive interest in her.”
I stand up and raise my voice. “My daughter was kidnapped. My son has been run over. Do something. Before it’s too late.”
“Now I need you to calm down,” Olivia says, pointing to the chair. “Sit down.”
I continue to stand. The two officers look at me as if they’re ready to arrest me.
“You’re the ones who need to settle down,” Henrik says. “Our son was almost killed. My wife has been under enormous pressure. Your attitude just makes everything worse.”
“We have a job to do,” Mats Hedin says. “Please sit, Mrs. Widstrand.”
“We’re finished with this,” I say and stay standing. “You can go now.”
“We want you to stay here in town. Make yourselves available.”
I don’t respond.
“Did you understand what my colleague said?” Olivia Lundkvist raises her eyebrows.
“I’d like to go be with my son now. If there’s nothing else?”
“We’ll be in touch,” Mats Hedin says. He rises and leaves the room. Olivia Lundkvist follows, but stops in the doorway.
“People like you are always hard to deal with,” she says.
“Like me?”
“People who think they know better than everyone else.”
I go over to her. “I don’t give a shit if you like me or not. All that matters now are my children.”
Detective Olivia Lundkvist’s face isn’t far from mine. For a moment, I think she’ll reply with another sharp comment, or maybe just drag me down to the station. But then I see a smile at one corner of her mouth.
“Okay,” she says, turns around, and leaves.
Stella
Henrik takes me in his arms. We stand in the middle of the room for a long time, holding each other. I lean against his chest, feel his breath in my hair. So much has happened lately we’d need to talk about it for days, weeks. But at this moment we don’t need words.
Milo returns to the room and lies down in bed. I sit next to him and tell him about his big sister. I tell him she’s alive.