The Man Who Watched Women (73 page)

The perfect man.

She had judged him too quickly. She was slightly ashamed of herself. She would make it up to him when he got home. There could be other reasons for his sudden departure and overnight absence. There had to be other reasons. She thought back over the events of the previous evening as her untouched cup of tea grew cold. He had seemed stressed when he left, that was for sure. Perhaps there were problems, either at work or in his private life. Obviously she wished he would talk to her if there was something bothering him, but some men insisted on being stoical and coping on their own. They found it terribly difficult to ask for help. But he didn't need to ask Ellinor. She would help anyway, if only she knew how.

She began systematically going through everything they had done together yesterday. Was there a moment when he had acted differently? Tried to hide something?

She remembered the supermarket carrier bag she had found. She thought it contained important papers, but when she asked him about it he had gone quiet. In fact he had remained quiet for a while. He had seemed very pensive, and had looked a little bit sad. As if the contents of the bag were a burden to him, as if he was wondering whether to share it with her. Perhaps he had been asking himself whether he had any right to drag her into his problems, but had then decided against the idea. He had asked her to throw the bag away. In a casual tone of voice. As if it meant nothing to him. Nothing at all. Putting up a facade. Which she could now see right through. He wanted to protect her. They would have to talk about that when he got back. She didn't need protecting. She was far more capable than he thought. But she loved the fact that he had tried.

With a little smile on her lips she went into their bedroom and fetched the bag. She pushed her untouched breakfast to one side and started to empty the contents of the carrier bag onto the table.

Forty-five minutes later she had read every word.

Twice.

It was all to do with someone called Valdemar Lithner. He had done a number of foolish things. Illegal things, as far as she could make out. This made sense; Sebastian sometimes worked with the police. Was Lithner someone they were going to pick up? Someone they had been investigating, and now they had passed all the information on to Sebastian so that he could work on a psychological evaluation of the suspect? A ‘profile'? Could well be.

But in that case, why had he asked her to throw away the contents of the bag?

Perhaps it just wouldn't stand up in court. Maybe it wasn't enough to take Valdemar Lithner into custody or arrest him or whatever it was they did.

But if that was the explanation, why had Sebastian seemed stressed about it all? Why hadn't he just told her the truth? Explained what it was and why there was no point in keeping it any longer?

No, it didn't make sense. Admittedly Ellinor had no legal training, but she was pretty sure that the papers she had in front of her would be enough to put Valdemar behind bars for quite some time.

So it must be something else.

Did this Lithner know that he was in trouble? Had he threatened Sebastian and the other police officers, forcing them to drop the case? She thought she had heard him say ‘Hinde' on the phone yesterday, but it could just as easily have been ‘Lithner'. The names sounded similar, and she hadn't been listening all that carefully. What if something had happened to Sebastian? Was that why he hadn't come home? She pulled herself up short. Ellinor Bergkvist wasn't a woman who allowed her imagination to run away with her. Among the documentation was a piece of paper with a name and a mobile number; presumably this was the man who had put it all together. She picked up her phone. It wouldn't do any harm to find out a bit more. Knowing the facts would reassure her.

A man answered almost immediately. ‘Yes?'

‘Good morning,' Ellinor said. ‘I'd like to speak to Trolle Hermansson.'

‘Who's calling?' the man wanted to know.

‘My name is Ellinor. I work at the Åhléns department store. The items Trolle ordered have arrived.'

She couldn't help smiling. This was exciting! Sebastian would be proud of her. She was almost like a real police officer.

There was silence at the other end of the line.

‘Hello? Who am I speaking to?' Ellinor asked.

‘This is the police.'

‘Is Trolle there?'

Silence. She had a feeling the man was hesitating. Trying to make a decision.

‘He's dead.'

She hadn't expected that.

‘I see … When did he die?'

‘A few days ago. So I don't think anyone will be collecting whatever it was he ordered.'

‘No, of course not. Thank you. My condolences,' she said, ending the call. She didn't feel in the least bit calmer. Quite the reverse. The man who had put together most of the material in front of her was dead. And Sebastian had told her to destroy it. It seemed that Valdemar Lithner would never be called to answer for his transgressions. Unless of course she helped Sebastian out.

If Valdemar Lithner was threatening her man, she had to act.

That was the least she could do.

Thanks to Norstedts. To Eva, Linda, Sara and everyone else who works with us and our books in various ways. We always feel so welcome and well taken care of. Particular thanks to Susanna Romanus and Peter Karlsson for your great support and constant encouragement.

Thank you also to Dr Anders Lindberg who happily listens to all our peculiar questions and not only answers them, but also comes up with suggestions and ideas. Everything that is medically accurate in the book is down to you; everything that isn't is our fault.

We would also like to extend special thanks to Rolf Lassgård for all the help and inspiration he has given us in the creation of Sebastian Bergman. You have been with us all the way, Rolf, and in every way.

And of course we must thank our families, who have had to put up with the fact that sometimes we have spent more time with Sebastian than with them.

Michael would like to thank Caesar, William, Vanessa and his beloved Astrid for all the love and for the words here and now. Thank you – you mean everything to me.

Hans would like to thank Lotta; I'm so lucky to have you. Sixten, Alice and Ebba, you make me proud and happy every single day. You're the best in every way, and I love you!

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

Epub ISBN 9781473535350
Version 1.0

Published by Century 2015

1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

Text copyright © Michael Hjorth and Hans Rosenfeldt 2012

Translation copyright © Marlaine Delargy 2013

Michael Hjorth and Hans Rosenfeldt have asserted their right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the authors of this work.

This edition first published in Great Britain by Century in 2015

Century
20 Vauxhall Bridge Road
London SW1V 2SA

First published as
Lärjungen
by Norstedts, Sweden in 2012

English translation first published in Australia and New Zealand as
The Disciple
by Pier 9, an imprint of Allen & Unwin, in 2013

www.randomhouse.co.uk

Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be found at:
www.randomhouse.co.uk/offices.htm

The Random House Group Limited Reg. No. 954009

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN: 9781780894553 (hardback)
ISBN: 9781780894560 (trade paperback)