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Back Bad Apples Save as PDF
Chapters (65)
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  65. Acknowledgements

He looks agitated. ‘I can’t say more at the present time, Tuvs. Not yet. I’ll let you know when there’s an official statement.’

I get escorted out of the graveyard. A journalist from Falun turns up and Thord tells him the entire site is out of bounds.

Who the hell would dig up a dead body that’s been underground for decades? Why?

I drive to the town square.

Julia, the receptionist, waves to me from outside the pharmacy.

Her red hair glows orange in the sun.

34

‘Julia,’ I yell.

‘I’m sorry, I’m late for work,’ she says, with an apologetic look on her face. ‘Catch up later?’

I get back into my parked Hilux and connect my laptop to my phone. This is my new reality. I need to work from Visberg each week, depending on what story is my priority. I have no office here. There’s no budget for one even though rent is cheap. And there is no Starbucks or Espresso House. The Grill doesn’t open until lunch. So this is my office space.

I can’t even imagine what would drive someone to excavate a grave. Being in a churchyard at night with a spade, digging down deeper and deeper. The spade edge hitting something solid. Scraping away the remaining earth. Lifting the coffin lid. The grave I just came from – did they take something out of the coffin? A watch or precious item? A body part? For what? A DNA sample? Would there be any DNA left?

I email Sebastian with a list of research he can do, if and when he has time. Lena keeps nagging me to include him more, so I will. Research grave-robbing, pretty-boy. Knock yourself out.

I check in with Thord but the Chief picks up and he ends the call before I can ask if he has a statement on the grave disturbance.

Outside, a kid in an all-in-one zip-up suit picks up an apple almost as big as his head. The skin is brown and crinkly. As he holds it I can see liquid ooze from a tear at the base of the fruit. The kid’s next to a bench where I saw two masked locals having sex on Pan Night. The kid holds the apple in between his mittens. He holds it close to his face. He opens his mouth and his teeth look just like Emil’s. And then the kid’s mother grabs the apple and throws it on the grass and it bursts. Half a dozen wasps fly out of it and the kid starts crying.

I lock up and walk over to the gamer cafe. No idea if Mind Games is open or closed so I try the door and it creaks open. Smells musty inside. Teenagers and takeout food and poor ventilation. Smells like home.