at the ceiling. The glow from the round lamp was weak and there were dead flies inside the glass globe. How would they punish her now? She wasnât meant to touch her neck. Thatâs what they had said. The wound had to heal completely. If you touched it, it would look much worse. Ugly.
She slid down to the floor with her back against the wall. The break was soon over; she couldnât stay much longer in the toilet. How long had she been on the island? A month? Perhaps several months. The trees had at any rate lost all their leaves. She had thought that the golden-brown leaves were so lovely. At home she had never seen a tree that changed color like that. Every time she stood to attention in the yard, she wished she could cast herself into the piles of golden leaves. But she never could. She was only allowed to fight. All the time. Against the wiry boy Minos. And even against Danilo. He was bigger and stronger than she, so she hadnât been any match for him. He tried not to hit her too hard, but eventually he had to. If you didnât fight, you got beaten, beaten a lot, so Danilo hit her. At first he tried to be careful, a light thump and a slap. But then the man with the ugly scar had lifted him up so violently by his hair that he pulled some clumps out.
She had tried to defend herself; she had attacked Danilo with kicks and blows, but nothing helped. In the end Danilo had punched her so hard with his fist that he split her lip. It was swollen for three days. Then it was time for the next fight. This time she was pitted against another boy who was one year younger than her. When he deliberately aimed a blow at her painful lip, she became furious and slammed the boy on his ear so hard that he collapsed onto the floor. She kept on kicking and punching him until the man with the scar stopped her. Then he smiled. He pointed at his eyes, his throat and his crotch.
âEye, throat, crotch,â he had said. Nothing else.
The girl heard the bell ring. It was time for the next lesson.
She wrung out her wet sleeve as tightly as she could. The water dripped onto the floor and formed a little puddle. She stretched out her hand to rip off some paper and wiped up the water. Then she got up and flushed the paper down the dirty toilet.
She rolled up her sleeve a little to hide the bloody stains, unlocked the door and went out.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
PETER RAMSTEDT SOUNDED grumpy when Henrik Levin phoned. His lawyerly voice was sharp and direct. Twice he repeated that he absolutely didnât have time to be present at a new interview with Kerstin Juhlén and especially not at this afternoon at the time the chief inspector had proposed.
âSince my client is particularly anxious that I be with her and I am at the moment in court, it would be more suitable if we come in this evening or tomorrow morning,â said Ramstedt.
âNo,â said Henrik.
âI beg your pardon?â
âNo,â said Henrik. âIt is not suitable this evening or tomorrow morning. I donât know if you realize it, but we are in the middle of a murder investigation and we need to talk to Kerstin Juhlén now.â
There was silence at the other end. Then the lawyerâs voice could be heard again. He spoke extremely slowly and resolutely.
âAnd I donât know if you realize it, but as her legal representative I must be present.â
âFine, in that case you both better be here at eleven this morning.â
Henrik ended the call.
* * *
At two minutes to eleven the lawyer came into the interview room to join Kerstin and the others. His face was bright red. He put his briefcase on the floor with a deliberate thud and sat down next to Kerstin. He gave Henrik and Jana an arrogant smile, put his cell phone in the pocket of his striped jacket. Then the interview began.
Henrik started by asking some direct simple questions about Hans Juhlénâs financial situation, which Kerstin answered in a soft voice.
She slid down to the floor with her back against the wall. The break was soon over; she couldnât stay much longer in the toilet. How long had she been on the island? A month? Perhaps several months. The trees had at any rate lost all their leaves. She had thought that the golden-brown leaves were so lovely. At home she had never seen a tree that changed color like that. Every time she stood to attention in the yard, she wished she could cast herself into the piles of golden leaves. But she never could. She was only allowed to fight. All the time. Against the wiry boy Minos. And even against Danilo. He was bigger and stronger than she, so she hadnât been any match for him. He tried not to hit her too hard, but eventually he had to. If you didnât fight, you got beaten, beaten a lot, so Danilo hit her. At first he tried to be careful, a light thump and a slap. But then the man with the ugly scar had lifted him up so violently by his hair that he pulled some clumps out.
She had tried to defend herself; she had attacked Danilo with kicks and blows, but nothing helped. In the end Danilo had punched her so hard with his fist that he split her lip. It was swollen for three days. Then it was time for the next fight. This time she was pitted against another boy who was one year younger than her. When he deliberately aimed a blow at her painful lip, she became furious and slammed the boy on his ear so hard that he collapsed onto the floor. She kept on kicking and punching him until the man with the scar stopped her. Then he smiled. He pointed at his eyes, his throat and his crotch.
âEye, throat, crotch,â he had said. Nothing else.
The girl heard the bell ring. It was time for the next lesson.
She wrung out her wet sleeve as tightly as she could. The water dripped onto the floor and formed a little puddle. She stretched out her hand to rip off some paper and wiped up the water. Then she got up and flushed the paper down the dirty toilet.
She rolled up her sleeve a little to hide the bloody stains, unlocked the door and went out.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
PETER RAMSTEDT SOUNDED grumpy when Henrik Levin phoned. His lawyerly voice was sharp and direct. Twice he repeated that he absolutely didnât have time to be present at a new interview with Kerstin Juhlén and especially not at this afternoon at the time the chief inspector had proposed.
âSince my client is particularly anxious that I be with her and I am at the moment in court, it would be more suitable if we come in this evening or tomorrow morning,â said Ramstedt.
âNo,â said Henrik.
âI beg your pardon?â
âNo,â said Henrik. âIt is not suitable this evening or tomorrow morning. I donât know if you realize it, but we are in the middle of a murder investigation and we need to talk to Kerstin Juhlén now.â
There was silence at the other end. Then the lawyerâs voice could be heard again. He spoke extremely slowly and resolutely.
âAnd I donât know if you realize it, but as her legal representative I must be present.â
âFine, in that case you both better be here at eleven this morning.â
Henrik ended the call.
* * *
At two minutes to eleven the lawyer came into the interview room to join Kerstin and the others. His face was bright red. He put his briefcase on the floor with a deliberate thud and sat down next to Kerstin. He gave Henrik and Jana an arrogant smile, put his cell phone in the pocket of his striped jacket. Then the interview began.
Henrik started by asking some direct simple questions about Hans Juhlénâs financial situation, which Kerstin answered in a soft voice.
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