sometimes pleading with him, sometimes shouting at him in anger. But now that he’d said the words out loud, she realized how unrealistic that would have been. Harald might not be the most brilliant of men – that was a fact she’d accepted long ago. But he loved to work, and to work hard. That was all he knew how to do, and he couldn’t live any other way. So maybe he was right. Maybe they’d done the best they could, in the circumstances.
‘What do we do now?” she asked, again putting her hand over Harald’s.
‘We leave them alone for a while. Later, once we’re off this island, we’ll find some sort of solution. It’ll all work out.’
They drank their coffee in silence. There was nothing more to say.
Martin gave a start as another rumble of thunder sounded overhead. He’d always been afraid of thunder. It was embarrassing, now that he was a grown man, but there was something about the flash of lightning that illuminated everything with its horrible glare, and then the waiting … the waiting for the boom that he knew would follow. Silently he began counting after the lightning lit up the kitchen. One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three … ‘Pow!’ Martin flinched. Bernard had sneaked up behind him and was now smiling at him with that nasty expression of his. ‘Sorry. Did I scare you?’ He laughed. The real thunder rumbled, sounding more distant.
‘Not at all,’ said Martin dismissively.
‘When’s lunch?’ asked Bernard, turning to Kerstin and Börje. He made the question sound as though he was speaking to servants.
‘In half an hour,’ replied Kerstin, before going back to her work preparing the food.
‘Good. That means we have time to talk.’ Bernard motioned to Martin, who reluctantly followed him out of the kitchen. No matter how unpleasant Martin found the man, he had to admit that Bernard did possess a great deal of authority. It would be hard not to obey Bernard Liljecrona.
‘What’s this about?’ asked Martin in an attempt to regain control.
Bernard cast a glance at Harald and Britten, who were sitting at the far end of the dining room, but he didn’t reply. With long strides he headed for the office, and for a moment Martin thought that Bernard was intending to sit down behind the desk and start interrogating him. Fortunately, he sat down in the visitor’s chair instead, giving Martin a challenging look.
Against his will, Martin found his curiosity piqued. He took his seat behind the desk and raised his eyebrows, signalling for Bernard to tell him what was on his mind.
‘You saw what just happened,’ said Bernard, his voice dry and matter-of-fact.
‘You mean the … fight between you and Matte?’ Martin wondered where this conversation was headed. He had his suspicions.
‘Yes. You saw how Matte attacked me. And it was more or less unprovoked.’
Martin questioned how ‘unprovoked’ it had really been, but he remained silent, waiting for Bernard to continue.
‘This is nothing new. Matte has had certain … problems.’ Bernard paused for a moment, then went on. ‘Harald and Britten have done their best to keep it under control, to hide it – and Ruben did his part, too. But the truth is, Matte has always been unstable. He’s even been locked up a few times … And, well … If I were looking for the most likely murderer in this group of people …’ He threw out his hands.
Martin sighed. He’d been hoping that Bernard would give him something more substantial. The fact that Matte had psychological problems was not news, and it did nothing to move the investigation forward.
‘Do you have anything more concrete to tell me?’ said Martin wearily.
‘What do you mean, “more concrete”? He tried to strangle me! What could be more concrete than that? It was attempted murder, goddamnit!’
‘I’d say that calling it “attempted murder” is going a bit far. And even if it were, there’s nothing to link this incident to Ruben’s
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