Page 126 of The Living and the Dead

“I know you were friends when you were young,” Vidar went on. “That you were close. If heisalive, he might have contacted you, or tried to. That’s why I’m here. I want to try to help him.”

“Help him.” She was breathing harder now, as if she needed air. “I can show you his gravestone.”

“Felicia.” Siri took over now. “We wouldn’t be sitting here if it wasn’t important.”

Vidar looked at Felicia’s hands, quiet around her mug.

“What are these reasons you’re talking about?” she said again, having collected herself.

“There is evidence that he may have been involved in Filip Söderström’s death.”

94

In a small corner of Sander’s mind, their reunion proceeded just as he’d imagined during all those desperate moments of fantasizing about it. Big smiles, laughter, hugs. Two cups of coffee on the table in his yard on Backavägen, or in town, all the questions that finally had answers.

Sander tried to ascertain whether the same thing was happening inside Killian as well, but it didn’t seem like it. Instead, Killian’s words echoed through him like a phantom bell.The stories I could tell, the life I’ve lived. More than twenty years had passed. How can you explain twenty years of events in a way that makes that length of time make any sense? It’s impossible. All those little moments, occasions, emotions, the high resolution of the myriad experiences that leave their mark on every individual.

Killian simply sat with his backpack next to him on the floor of the basement, across from Sander, listening to the conversation Felicia was having with the police above their heads.

His expression was inscrutable.

—

They had lingered at the graveside for a long time. Sander watched the clouds gathering and asked for another beer. Killian handed one over.

“Felicia and I,” Sander tried, but he didn’t know how to continue. It was like he was confessing to a great betrayal.

“I know,” Killian said bluntly.

“You do?”

“She told me.”

A cold flicker in his belly, an old tension returning.

“So you saw her?”

“After the funeral.”

The clouds moved in. A sudden chill made Sander shudder. He thought of Olivia and the kids.

“Maybe we should get going,” he said. “I should be getting on the road to Kivik.”

Killian watched him with what looked like suspicion. “So you’re going?”

“I can drive you to her place first.”

He had, on Killian’s request, parked in a nearby clearing and accompanied him the last little bit to Felicia’s. She seemed relieved to see Killian, who gave her a quick hug but avoided eye contact.

Sander found himself in a house where whatever was going on was something he hadn’t been aware of. He was on the outside of it, but even so he was compromised, involved in something he didn’t understand. He looked at the two of them, standing by the kitchen table. As if Killian and Felicia were somehow back in the old days: they were young, in control of their own future, and nothing was going to happen to them.

The spell was broken when Felicia looked out the window with a start.

“What is it?” Killian asked.

“They’re coming. The police are coming.”

95