Free Shadow by Karin Alvtegen Page B

– there were many options. It was a wonderful house. Built in 1906 with nine rooms and two kitchens, one on each floor. Three thousand square metres and within walking distance of the water. When Jan-Erik had moved back from the States, he had found his parents living on separate floors. He’d always had a feeling that it was because of Annika’s death, but like so much else he had never asked. After the car crash her bedroom had been converted into Alice’s kitchen. His parents had successfully done their best to avoid running into each other, except on public occasions when they presented themselves as a couple welded together, or at an occasional family dinner with Jan-Erik and Louise. But they never did get divorced. That was simply not done in the Ragnerfeldt family.
    During Jan-Erik’s childhood Gerda Persson had been the only person in the house who could always be counted on. She didn’t say much, but there was a sanctuary in her silence. He knew it was safe and would not suddenly explode.
    Marianne took a little sip of her coffee.
    ‘I’d like to begin by saying that naturally I’ve read all of Axel Ragnerfeldt’s books. They’re really quite wonderful. Please tell him that from me and thank him for all the amazing reading experiences.’
    ‘Oh yes, we most certainly shall do that. I’m sure he’ll be extremely thrilled.’
    Jan-Erik glared at his mother and cleared his throat loudly when he saw the crimson on Marianne’s cheeks.
    ‘Pappa has suffered a massive stroke, and we don’t really know how much he understands of what we tell him. That’s all that Mamma meant.’
    ‘I see. How sad, truly sad. I didn’t know that.’
    Jan-Erik hoped that the look he’d given his mother would keep her quiet. Marianne took out a black notebook and pen from her bag.
    ‘In any case, I’m here in my capacity as estate administrator first to try and track down any of Gerda Persson’srelatives who might be entitled to her inheritance. Secondly, I’m here to arrange her funeral if no one else shows up to do so, and so far no one has. Do you know if she had any family?’
    Jan-Erik left that question to his mother. He had no idea.
    ‘No. I don’t know very much about Gerda Persson. I haven’t had any contact with her since the early eighties. I should think there must be someone else who is better suited to answer these questions.’
    ‘Yes, that may be true. Unfortunately it’s not always the case, and then we have to make the best of the situation.’ Marianne was fighting back.
    Jan-Erik felt even more depressed about the way the conversation was going. Alice stroked her hand over the burgundy velvet sofa cushion. He had never got used to seeing all this furniture here in the flat. It belonged at home on the top floor of the house in Nacka, and no matter how much he had helped her move it around, it still looked lost here. As if the furniture longed for home and refused to settle in.
    ‘She was from Öland originally, I think, or maybe it was Kalmar. At any rate I know she had a sister, but she died in the late fifties, I believe it was. You were still small then.’
    Jan-Erik nodded.
    ‘I remember that she took a week off to take care of the funeral. Her sister was also unmarried, if I’m not mistaken.’
    ‘But no other siblings that you know of?’
    The tip of Marianne’s pen rested on a line in the black notebook.
    ‘No, none that she mentioned, at least.’
    ‘And no children?’
    ‘No.’
    Marianne shifted position and leafed through some pages.
    ‘I got one response to the death notice in the paper, a Torgny Wennberg who said he would come to the funeral.’
    ‘Torgny Wennberg?’
    His mother’s voice was marked by suspicion.
    ‘Yes. Did you know him?’
    Alice snorted. ‘I wouldn’t say I know him. He was a detestable man who constantly came to visit Axel to bask in his glory. He had managed to get a few novels published that no one read, but he thrived on hobnobbing with more