The Scent of Almonds: A Novella (6 page)

‘It doesn’t appear that the rest of the family shared your opinion.’

Matte snorted. ‘The others just got dollar signs in their eyes whenever they thought about Grandpa. Even my father. All they ever cared about was taking more and more money from him. Nobody was interested in getting to know him.’

‘So the flat that Bernard mentioned …’

Matte sighed wearily. ‘Grandpa and I had an agreement. I was allowed to live in a flat that he owned while I was studying at the university. He never signed the property over to me. I leased it from him, that’s all.’

Martin paused before saying in a low voice, ‘Do you have any idea who might have done this?’

A few seconds passed before Matte reacted. Then he merely shook his head and said, ‘No. I have no idea.’

Martin had the feeling that Matte wanted to say more, so he persisted:

‘Are you sure? Do you have any suspicions about who might have wanted to kill your grandfather?’

‘No. None,’ replied Matte in a firmer voice. ‘It’s true that everyone took advantage of him, but to go from that to murder … No, I can’t imagine anyone doing that.’

Martin gave him a searching glance before concluding, ‘In that case, I have no more questions at the moment.’

‘No more questions?’ said Matte in surprise. ‘But there must be other things that—’

‘I do have a number of things I plan to ask all of you in the hope of getting to the bottom of this matter. But right now I’m primarily interested in forming a general picture of how things stood. I’ll get to back to you later.’

Matte stood up but didn’t immediately leave the office. He paused in the doorway, as if he wanted to say something else. Martin waited, but in the end Matte simply turned around and left.

Martin wondered what other questions he should have asked.

Matte felt his legs shaking as he exited the office. There was something in the red-haired police officer’s expression that left him feeling stripped naked. As if he’d been revealed for the fraud that he was. The familiar sense of panic began churning in the pit of his stomach. It started as a tiny rumbling, but he knew that it would only grow in strength if he didn’t stop it. When he was younger, he’d had no choice but to allow the wave of panic to surge through him, faster and faster until it practically suffocated him. Now, he’d learned how to handle it. He had the tools, as the psychologist would have told him. So he took a few more steps over to the wall and leaned his back against it as he slowly sank to the floor in a seated position. He rested his forehead on his knees and closed his eyes. The important thing was to focus on the point in the middle of the darkness. He could make the point grow, and then it would force him to get his breathing under control. In and out. In and out. One calm breath after another. One breath at a time until his pulse no longer threatened to run away with him. The darkness behind his eyelids soothed him. And today he had company in that darkness. Deep inside that point that was growing and growing he saw his grandfather. Ruben was waving to him. Giving him a wink. Showing him that everything was okay. Everything was as it should be.

A few minutes later, Matte got up. For the time being, the attack was over.

‘When do you suppose we’ll be able to get out of here?’ Vivi’s lower lip quivered.

‘As I’ve already told you, not until the storm dies down.’ Martin couldn’t suppress the impatience in his voice. How hard could it be to understand? It was impossible to cross the water to the mainland at the moment. Then he instantly felt guilty. The woman sitting in front of him looked as if she were on the verge of falling apart, without him making matters worse by being rude.

‘It’s bound to clear up soon,’ he said kindly, handing her a tissue which she gratefully accepted.

Then he went on: ‘I understand that this must be a terrible strain for you. For all of you.’

‘Yes, it is,’ sobbed Vivi as she wiped her eyes with the tissue. ‘It’s starting to feel like too much for me, this whole situation. I have delicate nerves, you see.’

Martin nodded sympathetically. ‘I promise to proceed as gently as possible. But it’s important that we find out who did this.’

‘Yes, yes, of course,’ said Vivi and she blotted her eyes. The tissue was streaked with mascara.

‘How much did you know about your husband’s …’ Martin searched for the right word. ‘… activities?’

Vivi began crying even harder, pressing the tissue to her eyes. Her other hand fumbled nervously at her throat.

‘Nothing. Nothing at all. To think that he could …’ Her voice broke and she seemed to give up the battle to save her make-up. Two streaks of mascara formed on her cheeks.

‘No, I had absolutely no idea.’ She crushed the tissue in her hands, which now rested on her lap. Martin subjected her to a penetrating look, but he was inclined to believe her. He dropped that line of questioning and moved on to another topic.

‘How was your relationship with Ruben?’

Vivi stopped crying, then said, ‘We … well, I wouldn’t say that we had much of a relationship with him. Ruben never thought very highly of me. In fact, he more or less ignored me. Besides, he always made me nervous.’

‘Nervous?’ said Martin.

‘Yes. He had such an air of authority. And Gustav was always so stressed when they were together, so eager to please his father. I suppose his feelings got transmitted to me, so … Yes, I think nervous is the correct word.’

‘Do you have any theories as to who might have had reason to kill your father-in-law?’

Again Vivi’s hand reached for her throat. ‘No, no. I can’t imagine that anyone would do something like that. It’s unthinkable. Utterly unthinkable!’

‘And yet someone did murder him,’ said Martin, cocking his head to one side.

Vivi merely shifted uneasily in her seat without replying. Either she couldn’t or wouldn’t answer the question.

Martin was about to continue when a noise made both of them turn to look at the door. Agitated voices and the sound of crashing furniture could be heard from the library. Martin jumped to his feet. Seconds later he entered the room to see Matte and Bernard in a stand-off, and apparently Matte had gained the upper hand. He had Bernard backed up against the wall, and was holding his cousin’s shirt in an iron grip as he shouted at him. Saliva flew, but Bernard didn’t dare reach up to wipe it off his face.

‘Shut the fuck up, you bastard! Do you hear me? Shut up!’ Matte’s face was white with rage, and with each word, he pressed Bernard harder against the wall. They were standing right next to the Christmas tree, which had started to sway ominously.

‘Bernard didn’t mean …’ Gustav looked bewildered as he stared at his son and nephew.

‘Gustav, what’s going on?’ cried Vivi as she came rushing into the library behind Martin.

‘Your son was accusing my son.’ Britten’s voice was as cold as ice as she turned to look at her sister-in-law. Then she turned back to Matte and began pleading in a much gentler tone:

‘Matte, please, stop this. Let Bernard go. Don’t pay any attention to what he says. He’s an idiot. You know that.’

‘What the hell are you saying about my son?’ Gustav roared at Britten.

‘You heard what I said, Gustav. It’s no secret that your son is a first-class idiot!’

‘I can’t believe you’d say such a thing when your own son is a mental wreck! If it weren’t for Ruben, he’d still be locked up in that place. And obviously that’s where he belongs.’

Gustav and Britten were glaring at each other like two combatants. Standing next to them, Matte continued to hold Bernard in a firm grip as if oblivious to what was going on around him. The rest of the Liljecrona family seemed to be frozen in place.

Martin realized that he had to take action. In his most authoritative voice, he shouted: ‘Everybody calm down!’ Then he strode over to Matte and pulled him away from Bernard. It was surprisingly easy. All the air seemed to seep out of Matte the moment Martin took his arm, and he collapsed onto the nearest armchair.

Bernard rubbed his hand over his chest. The front of his shirt was severely wrinkled, and he was undoubtedly going to have bruises on his neck. Since Martin hadn’t heard what prompted the quarrel, he didn’t know whether Bernard had deserved such treatment or not.

‘All right now. Everybody calm down,’ Martin repeated.

‘He should be locked up! What a fucking lunatic!’ snapped Bernard, glaring at Matte. But Lisette’s brother was no longer paying attention to him. He sat in the chair, hunched forward, with his head in his hands and his eyes staring into space.

Britten went over and knelt down next to his chair. Gently she stroked Matte’s back as she spoke to him quietly, trying to soothe him.

‘My God, that man has never been right in the head!’ declared Bernard as he straightened his tie.

‘Take it easy,’ said Gustav, motioning for his son to move further away from Matte. Bernard complied but continued to stare angrily at his cousin.

‘I know that you’re all under a great deal of pressure,’ said Martin, looking around the room, ‘but we need to try and make the best of the situation. I’m sure that we’ll be able to reach the mainland very soon, but until then I suggest that everyone remain calm.’ He stared pointedly at the two men who had been fighting before repeating what he’d already said. ‘Everybody needs to stay calm. Okay?’

Bernard reluctantly nodded agreement, but Matte appeared not to have heard. He abruptly stood up and dashed out of the library, heading upstairs to his room. Britten was about to run after him, but Harald put his hand on her arm to stop her.

‘Let him go. He needs to be alone.’

‘It’s just so typical!’ Lisette was standing at the other end of the room. ‘Matte always has to make a scene.’

‘Lisette, shouldn’t you be defending your brother? You heard what your dear cousin said to him. It’s only natural he would react the way he did.’ Britten gave her daughter a furious look.

‘Well, Bernard was right. He’s a total nutcase.’ Lisette’s voice rose shrilly, and Martin thought to himself that she was becoming less and less attractive by the minute.

‘Lisette!’ cried Britten, halting any further comment from her daughter.

Martin took the opportunity to repeat his admonition, this time directing the words at his girlfriend.

‘As I said, everybody needs to calm down. All this bickering isn’t helping. We have to try to get through the hours until we’re able to make contact with the mainland.’

The look that Lisette gave him revealed that she wasn’t going to be particularly pleasant to be around. Not that it mattered. Once they got out of here, he had no intention of seeing her again.

Martin turned his back on all of them and went to the kitchen to get some coffee. Right now he was sick and tired of the whole Liljecrona family.

Lisette watched, seething, as Martin left the room. How dare he reprimand her like that! And her mother too! But both of her parents had always pampered Matte. Showering him with attention – at Lisette’s expense. ‘You’re managing so well on your own. We need to give Matte a little help …’ So Matte came first with them. And when, during his first year at university, all his fears and insecurities got too much for him and he fell apart completely, she might as well have been invisible. All they could talk about was ‘poor Matte’, who couldn’t handle the pressure of studying and needed time to ‘rest’. Even Grandpa Ruben had been worried. Matte had been his favourite from the start. It was all so unfair.

Lisette exchanged glances with Bernard across the room. He was the only one who understood. They’d spent many evenings together, drinking wine as they both harped on the faults of their parents. On a few occasions they’d ended up in bed together. But that was not something they ever mentioned; they were first cousins, after all. Which was a shame, because Lisette had always thought they were made for each other. He was a real man, to his very fingertips. Unlike Martin, who had turned out to be incredibly … insipid. Not that she could ever have been happy living on a policeman’s salary. It was laughable – she received more in pocket money from her father.

She couldn’t help smiling to herself as she thought about her assignation with Bernard earlier. Martin had almost caught the pair of them, but they had managed to sneak away in the nick of time.

‘Lisette, I wish you could be more considerate of Matte.’

Britten had suddenly appeared at her side, and Lisette gave a start at the touch of her mother’s hand.

‘Matte, Matte, Matte – I can’t stand to hear another word about him. Why do you always have to defend him? Didn’t you see how he attacked poor Bernard?’

‘
Poor Bernard
,’ snorted Britten. ‘I wish you’d be more objective when it comes to your cousin. Didn’t you hear what he said to Matte? Of course I don’t condone the way Matte attacked him. Violence never solves anything. But I do understand why he reacted the way he did. What Bernard said was so inappropriate.’

‘Inappropriate! Do you think it was more appropriate for Matte to try and strangle Bernard?’ Lisette’s voice rose even higher, and everyone turned to look at her and Britten. Harald cast an apologetic glance around as he hurried over to his wife and daughter.

‘Shh … Let’s stop all this quarrelling. Get a hold of yourselves,’ he pleaded. Lisette enjoyed seeing her father look so uncomfortable. He was a cowardly man who would go to any lengths to avoid conflict. Britten had been left to handle any serious issues with the children while Harald had conveniently kept out of the way. Even now his eyes were nervously shifting about. Lisette looked at him with contempt, the same contempt she felt for the entire family. Her only consolation had been the prospect of inheriting Grandpa Ruben’s money and giving them all the finger. Then she could fulfil her dream to live on the Riviera and enjoy every day as if there were no tomorrow. Forget about all the studying and simply … live!

She gave Harald and Britten a cold glare. Then she turned on her heel and left the room with only one thought in her head: she had to get out of here. And soon.

Börje and Kerstin were busy preparing lunch when Martin walked in.

‘Would you mind if I had some coffee?’ he asked, nodding towards the coffee maker on the worktop.