The Gallows Bird by Camilla Läckberg

kitchen. Sofie seemed to want to follow, but Kerstin seemed instinctively to sense that what they were going to discuss wasn’t suitable for her ears, because she shook her head almost imperceptibly. For a second Sofie looked as though she were going to ignore the dismissal, but then she shrugged and went to her room and closed the door. In time she would be told all about it, but for now Patrik and Martin wanted to speak with Kerstin in private.
    Patrik got straight to the point as soon as they had all sat down.
    ‘We’ve found a number of . . . irregularities surrounding Marit’s accident.’
    ‘Irregularities?’ said Kerstin, looking from one officer to the other.
    ‘Yes,’ said Martin. ‘There are certain . . . injuries that may not be attributable to the accident.’
    ‘May not?’ Kerstin said. ‘Don’t you know?’
    ‘No, we’re not positive yet,’ Patrik admitted. ‘We’ll know more when the medical examiner’s final report comes in. But there are enough questions to make us want to have another talk with you. To hear whether there’s any reason to believe that someone might have wanted to harm Marit.’ Patrik saw Kerstin flinch. He sensed a thought fly through her mind, a thought that she rejected at once. But he had to find out what it was, he couldn’t ignore it.
    ‘If you know of anyone who might have wanted to harm Marit, you have to tell us. If nothing else so that we can exclude that person from suspicion.’ Patrik and Martin watched her tensely. She seemed to be wrestling with something, so they sat quietly, giving her time to formulate what she wanted to say.
    ‘We’ve received some letters.’ The words came slowly and reluctantly.
    ‘Letters?’ said Martin, wanting to hear more.
    ‘Ye-e-es.’ Kerstin fidgeted with the gold ring she wore on her left ring finger. ‘We’ve been getting letters for four years.’
    ‘What were the letters about?’
    ‘Threats, filth, things about my relationship with Marit.’
    ‘Someone who wrote because of . . .’ Patrik paused, not knowing how to phrase it, ‘because of the nature of your relationship?’
    ‘Yes,’ Kerstin admitted. ‘Somebody who understood or suspected that we were more than just friends and who was . . .’ Now it was her turn to search for words. She decided on ‘offended.’
    ‘What sort of threats were they? How blatant?’ Martin was now writing everything down.
    ‘They were quite blatant. Saying that people like us were disgusting, that we went against nature. That people like us should die.’
    ‘How often did you get these letters?’
    Kerstin thought about it. She kept twisting her ring nervously round and round. ‘We got maybe three or four a year. Sometimes more, sometimes less. There didn’t seem to be any real pattern. It was more as if somebody sent one when the mood came over them, if you know what I mean.’
    ‘Why didn’t you ever file a police report?’ Martin looked up from his notebook.
    Kerstin gave him a crooked smile. ‘Marit didn’t want to. She was afraid that it would make matters worse. That it would turn into a big deal and our . . . relationship would become public knowledge.’
    ‘And she didn’t want that to happen?’ asked Patrik, then remembered that was precisely what Kerstin and Marit had argued about before Marit drove off that evening. The evening when she didn’t come back.
    ‘No, she didn’t,’ Kerstin said tonelessly. ‘But we saved the letters. Just in case.’ She got up.
    Patrik and Martin stared at each other in astonishment. They hadn’t even thought to ask about something like this. It was more than they’d dared hope. Now maybe they would find some physical evidence that might lead them to the person who wrote the letters.
    Kerstin came back with a thick bundle of letters in a plastic bag. She dumped them out on the table. Patrik was afraid to destroy any more evidence. Enough damage had already been done through handling in the post and by Kerstin and