After she left the room and closed the door, something happened that hadn’t occurred in years.
Knutas wept.
KNUTAS OPENED THE door to his house on Bokströmsgatan, filled with a sense of doom. He was overwhelmed by despair. For weeks Nils had kept quiet about having been a witness to the assault. Knutas didn’t know whether it was his role as a father or as a police officer that had prevented Nils from confiding in him. Or which was worse.
He had tried to phone Lina, but he got only a busy signal on the landline, and she hadn’t answered her mobile.
He hung his jacket in the front hall without calling out his customary ‘hello’. The TV was on in the living room. It was some kind of quiz show. Lina was sitting in a corner of the sofa with the reading lamp on, the newspaper spread open on her lap. She glanced up when he stepped into the room.
‘Hi, sweetheart,’ she said gently. ‘Come over here and sit down.’
He realized at once that she’d seen the Regional News report.
‘Where’s Nils?’
‘Upstairs in his room.’
‘Have you talked to him?’
‘No. I wanted to wait for you.’
Knutas shouted at the top of his lungs: ‘Nils!’
‘Calm down,’ Lina urged her husband. ‘This isn’t easy for him either.’
Knutas chose to ignore her. He was glaring at the stairs. He heard a door slowly open, and then a voice said: ‘What is it?’
‘Come down here.’
‘But I’m doing my homework.’
‘Get down here this minute!’
Nils appeared at the top of the stairs. His face was pale, his expression serious, his curly red hair more tousled than usual. His T-shirt was wrinkled and there were holes in the knees of his jeans.
‘What is it?’
‘Don’t play dumb with me. Come down here.’
Knutas immediately regretted the harsh tone he’d taken, but it was too late now.
Knutas led the way into the living room, turned off the TV and sank down on to the sofa next to Lina. He motioned for Nils to sit on the armchair across from them. Anger overtook the sorrow he felt at not having the right expertise to deal with the situation. He felt as if he were adrift on an ice floe, floating on some distant, ice-cold and bottomless sea.
‘Can you explain to me and your mother why you haven’t said a word to us this whole time about being a witness when Alexander was assaulted? Yet the minute a reporter waves a microphone in your face, you spill out the whole story as if you were getting paid to talk.’
Nils gave him a defiant look. His eyes were filled with contempt.
‘Neither of you ever asked me about it.’
The words were so unexpected that Knutas was left speechless. He cast a glance at Lina. She merely shook her head and then hid her face in her hands.
‘But we’re always asking you how you are and what’s going on. You never want to tell us anything, but we keep trying—’
‘You’re always so busy with your own stuff. You don’t really care how I am or what I have to deal with! You just pretend to take an interest, but the only thing that’s important to you is that fucking cop job of yours!’
Knutas was shocked. He was utterly unprepared for such an accusation. He’d been naive enough to think that Nils would be remorseful and apologize.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You don’t care about me. All you ever talk about is yourself and your sodding investigations, and I don’t give a shit about them. Why should I tell you anything? You pretend to care about me and Petra, but the only effort you ever make is to drag us along once in a while to do something you think is fun. Like when we went to the golf course. We just went along for your sake, even though you acted like you were the best father in the world who was doing something really great for his kids.’
Knutas felt his cheeks flush with indignation, but he forced himself to remain calm.
‘I think you have to agree that you’re being unfair. OK, I admit that there are times when I talk a lot about my work, but that’s only when I’m in the middle of an important case. And that’s not really surprising, is it? And think about all the fun things we’ve done together over the years. You don’t really think it was all for my sake, do you? All those excursions we’ve taken you on, ever since you and your sister were kids? I can’t even count how many times we’ve been to Kneippbyn and Vattenland. We’ve gone to Legoland and to the Astrid Lindgren theme park, and I’ve even gone riding on Iceland horses with you and Petra – and you know how scared I am of horses. Have you really forgotten all those things? I think you ought to show a little gratitude once in a while and not be so bloody sullen and selfish all the time. Your mother and I are doing the best we can!’
Nils stared at his hands, not once looking at his father. He said in a low voice: ‘It’s not Mamma that I’m mad at. She has always come through for us. Unlike you.’
Knutas looked at his son in bewilderment. He couldn’t believe his ears. He swallowed hard. No one else spoke as he searched for words.
‘I really don’t understand what you mean, Nils. I never come through for you? How can you say that?’