A large expanse of lawn stretched out before them. They stopped to look around.
‘I have some wonderful memories of this place,’ said Patrik. ‘We used to come here on school outings a few times a year, and in the summertime when I was at sailing camp. I’ve kicked a lot of balls across that lawn. And played a lot of games of rounders.’
‘I know. Who hasn’t been to camp out here? Strange how it’s always been called the summer camp.’
Patrik shrugged and started up the path towards the house. ‘I suppose the name stuck. It was only a boarding school for a short time, and nobody wanted to name the place after old man von Schlesinger who lived here before.’
‘Oh, right. I’ve heard about that lunatic,’ said Martin, cursing as a branch slapped him in the face. ‘Who owns the place now?’
‘I assume the couple who live here own it. After what happened in 1974, it’s been administered by the local council, at least as far as I know. Too bad that the house has been allowed to fall into such disrepair, but it looks like they’re starting to fix it up.’
Martin peered up at the scaffolding that covered the entire front of the building. ‘They seem to be putting a lot of work into it. I hope the fire didn’t cause too much damage.’
They made their way to the stone stairway that led up to the front door. The Fjällbacka Volunteer Fire Brigade were gathering up their equipment, going about their work in a calm, methodical manner. They must be sweating buckets in those heavy uniforms, thought Patrik. The heat was already oppressive, in spite of the early hour.
‘Hi!’ Östen Ronander, chief of the fire brigade, came over and nodded a greeting. His hands were black with soot.
‘Hi, Östen. So what happened here? Annika said you suspect the fire might have been deliberately set.’
‘It certainly appears that way. But we’re not qualified to make that judgement, from a technical point of view. We’re hoping that Torbjörn will get here soon.’
‘I phoned him on our way over, and they expect to be here in …’ Patrik glanced at his watch, ‘about half an hour.’
‘Good. Want me to show you around, in the meantime? We’ve tried not to disturb anything. The owner had already put out the flames with a fire extinguisher by the time we arrived, so we’ve just made sure that nothing is still smouldering. There wasn’t really much else we could do. Take a look over there—’
Östen pointed to the front hall. On the other side of the threshold the floor was scorched in a strange, irregular pattern.
‘Must have been some sort of flammable liquid, don’t you think?’ said Martin, peering at it.
Östen nodded.
‘I’d say somebody poured the liquid under the door and then ignited it. Judging by the smell, I reckon it was petrol, but I’m sure Torbjörn and his boys will be able to tell us for sure.’
‘Where are the people who live here?’
‘They’re sitting out back, waiting for the medics, who unfortunately have been delayed because of a traffic accident. They both seem to be suffering from shock, and I thought they could use some peace and quiet. I also thought it would be best if we didn’t let them tramp about inside the house before you had a chance to secure any evidence.’
‘Good thinking.’ Patrik patted Östen on the shoulder and then said to Martin. ‘Shall we go and have a talk with them?’
Without waiting for a reply he headed towards the back of the house. As they turned the corner they spotted a few pieces of patio furniture a short distance away. The chairs and table were shabby, as if they’d been subjected to years of all kinds of weather. Sitting at the table were a man and a woman, both in their mid-thirties, looking lost. When the man caught sight of Patrik and Martin, he stood up and came to greet them, holding out his hand, which was hard and callused, as if accustomed to working with tools.
‘Tobias Stark.’
Patrik and Martin introduced themselves.
‘We don’t understand what happened. The firemen said something about arson. Could that be right?’ said Tobias’s wife, who had come over to stand next to her husband. She was slender and petite. Even though Patrik was only of average height, she barely reached to his shoulder. She seemed delicate and fragile, and she was shivering in spite of the heat.
‘That’s not necessarily true. We don’t yet know anything for certain,’ said Patrik, wanting to reassure them.
‘This is my wife Ebba,’ Tobias told them. Then he wearily rubbed a hand over his face.
‘Why don’t we sit down?’ said Martin. ‘We’d like to hear a little more about what happened.’
‘Sure, we can sit over there,’ said Tobias, pointing to the patio furniture.
‘Who discovered the fire?’ asked Patrik when they were seated. He was studying Tobias, who had a dark patch on his forehead. Like Östen, his hands were black with soot.
Noticing the direction of Patrik’s gaze, Tobias glanced down at his hands. It appeared he hadn’t realized until now how dirty they were. He spent a few moments wiping his palms on his jeans before he answered the question.
‘I did. I woke up and noticed a strange smell. As soon as I realized that there was a fire downstairs, I tried to wake Ebba. It took a few minutes because she was sound asleep, but finally I managed to get her out of bed. Then I ran to get the fire extinguisher. There was only one thought in my mind: to put out the fire.’ Tobias spoke so fast that he was out of breath, and he had to pause for a moment.
‘I thought I was going to die. I was absolutely convinced of it,’ said Ebba, picking at a cuticle. Patrik gave her a sympathetic look.
‘I took the fire extinguisher and sprayed it like crazy at the flames in the front hall,’ Tobias went on. ‘At first nothing happened, but I kept on spraying, and all of a sudden the flames went out. But there was still a lot of smoke. There was smoke everywhere.’ Again he had to stop to catch his breath.
‘Why would anyone … I don’t understand,’ said Ebba vaguely, and Patrik suspected that Östen was right: she was in a state of shock. That would also explain why she was shivering as if she were freezing. When the medics arrived, they were going to have to pay special attention to Ebba and also make sure that neither she nor Tobias was suffering from smoke inhalation. Many people didn’t realize that smoke could be deadlier than the actual fire. Drawing smoke deep into the lungs could have consequences that didn’t show up until later.
‘Why do they think the fire was deliberately set?’ asked Tobias, rubbing his face again. Patrik assumed that the man hadn’t had much sleep.
‘As I said, we don’t know anything for sure at the moment,’ he replied evasively. ‘But there are certain indications. I don’t want to say more until the technical experts have been able to confirm our suspicions. Did either of you hear any noises in the night?’
‘No. As I mentioned, I didn’t wake up until the fire was already burning.’
Patrik nodded towards a house a short distance away. ‘Are the neighbours at home? Would they have noticed if there were any strangers about?’
‘They’re on holiday. We’re the only ones on this part of the island.’
‘Is there anybody who might want to do you harm?’ Martin chipped in. He often let Patrik take charge of the questioning, but he always listened attentively and watched the reactions of the people they were interviewing. And that was just as important as asking the questions.
‘No. Not as far as I know.’ Ebba shook her head.
‘We haven’t lived here long.