“A paternity test certainly proves something. And reporting a rape would stir things up a bit I should think.”

“He said, she said—and like I said, there’s no evidence. You’ll never pin anything on me.”

“Very possibly, but it’ll damage your reputation, and I think that’s something you’d like to avoid. Just pay and the problem will go away. Otherwise I’ll have to take steps that you won’t like.”

“That sounds like a threat. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“I have a pretty good idea of that, actually,” Sandra said truthfully. “I know much more about you than you think.”

“I think it’s about time we wrapped up this call,” Hallin said with an edge to his voice. “Drop this. Now. That’s my genuine advice to you.”

“No chance,” Sandra said coolly. “Now can I speak to your dear wife?”

“You ugly, fat, fucking slut,” Hallin said as a parting shot, and Sandra could hear him frothing at the mouth as he spat out the words.

Then he slammed the phone down. But judging by the description, at least he still remembered her, Sandra noted with a sad smile.

39. Jeanette

39

Jeanette

IT WAS HOT and sunny, and there were a lot of people out and about today—the tourists had already started to stream onto the island. Midsummer was approaching and it was obvious that the posh schools in the fancier parts of Stockholm had closed their doors for the season.

Jeanette was sitting between Lubbi and Kat, watching people rushing past. Everyone seemed to be in such a hurry—they seemed to have important things they needed to do before the next important thing they needed to do. The Stockholmers brought the urgency and stress of the subway with them all the way to Gotland. It was only as Medieval Week approached that they usually began to calm down somewhat, just as their holiday was almost over.

“The nine-to-fivers, the nine-to-fivers are funny to observe,” Lubbi sang, to the tune of Små Grodorna.

Kat laughed loudly. Jeanette gave a tepid smile, but at least she recognised the reference, which she was pretty sure Kat didn’t. She was too young to remember Stefan Jarl’s old documentaries about Swedish society and customs.

Jeanette felt a bit depressed at the thought that she was no longer one of the nine-to-fivers, but one of the misfits, as they were known. When she thought about it, there was a hint of approval in the very words. A certain degree of respect for the people who had chosen an alternative lifestyle, as it could also be termed. Despite it not being something you chose, but a state that you ended up in because you lacked the capacity to make thought-through choices that were good for you in the long-term.

“Those mainlanders are so stressed they’ll go to an early grave,” Jeanette said.