Page 77 of Hidden in Memories
“Do you really think Lehto could be involved in Aada’s death?”
“I can’t answer that,” Hanna says. “But it’s unfortunate if Aada witnessed the killer leaving the scene of the crime. He might have decided he needed to get rid of her.”
Daniel thinks she could well be right. The consequences of this conclusion are terrifying. He closes his eyes for a second. It says a great deal about the perpetrator’s character.
They are dealing with someone who not only kills in a burst of rage, but someone who is sufficiently cold blooded to take other lives if necessary.
He is prepared to kill in order to save his own skin.
62
A knock on the door makes Bengt Hedin glance up from his computer screen. He has been hiding in his office all day, canceling all his meetings and pretending to be busy.
He would have preferred to stay home, but doesn’t want to do anything that could be perceived as suspicious. He forced himself to come into work this morning, tried to act like nothing had happened. After that detective showed up yesterday, Bengt feels as if everyone is wondering, even though he did his best to play down the visit over afternoon coffee.
As soon as the cop left, Bengt started googling their powers, checking to see whether they had the right to go through his assets without his knowledge. The legal language was complex and hard to understand, and in the end he gave up, told himself he’d been careful. He hasn’t received a Swish transfer, or money paid directly into his personal account. Everything has gone into the family foundation, which Bengt alone administers. The police will never be able to track down that account—they’re not that smart.
He still feels uneasy.
He has already done so much to hide his tracks, crossed boundaries in a way that he would never have thought possible.
The adrenaline is coursing through his body, and he is worried about the mass media. They are always on the lookout. The second murder at Copperhill is big news, and the reporters seem to know far more than they should.
Bengt has read every word, breaking out into a cold sweat. How come they have access to so much information? What will he do if they find him?
He runs a sweaty hand through his hair. With every passing day he becomes more and more entangled. It feels like trudging through a bog, with his feet sinking deeper and deeper.
Another knock, and the door opens to reveal his fellow party member Gunilla Nymark.
“Do you have a moment?” she wonders, leaning on the edge of his desk.
Saying no is not an option. Gunilla is vice chair of the party on the council. She has held the post for a long time—he can’t afford to arouse her suspicions.
Her watery blue eyes are troubled in her narrow, slightly gaunt face.
“There’s a lot of talk about Charlotte Wretlind’s Storlien project,” she says in a challenging tone of voice. “Some people are saying things might not have been aboveboard. Now that the plans might be put on hold because of the murder, we’d like to revisit the process, make sure everything was done correctly.”
Bile surges up from Bengt’s stomach as soon as he hears Charlotte’s name. The hatred he feels toward her burns his throat.
If she hadn’t sought him out, he would never have finished up in this mess. It was her suggestion of “financial compensation” that landed him here. The way she tempted him with more money than he earned in an entire year, if he could just see his way to smoothing the procedure so she could buy the land and secure planning permission.
Bengt, who had served the public sector all his life, deserved his reward—that was how she put it. Why should he say no when everyone else was feathering their nest?
There was absolutely no risk, she assured him. Wasn’t it time for him to cash in too?
Charlotte ensnared him with her seductive talk. He felt seen, encouraged. And she was right—he had given up so many evenings and weekends to politics without anyone ever thanking him.
Then everything changed.
There were too many awkward questions, various officials started objecting, and he began to worry about the press conference. What if the truth came out?
He told her he wanted nothing more to do with it. And she had the nerve to threaten him with her fucking text messages. He was devastated.
Now she has gotten what she deserved.
It was her own fault, no one else’s.
Gunilla coughs discreetly, and Bengt realizes he was lost in his bitter thoughts.
