In Bad Company (Sandhamn Murders) Read online

  ALSO BY VIVECA STEN IN THE SANDHAMN MURDERS SERIES

  Still Waters

  Closed Circles

  Guiltless

  Tonight You’re Dead

  In the Heat of the Moment

  In Harm’s Way

  In the Shadow of Power

  In the Name of Truth

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2018 by Viveca Sten

  Translation copyright © 2021 by Marlaine Delargy

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Previously published as I fel sällskap by Forum in Sweden in 2018. Translated from Swedish by Marlaine Delargy. First published in English by Amazon Crossing in 2021.

  Published by Amazon Crossing, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Amazon Crossing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781542021838

  ISBN-10: 1542021839

  Cover design by Damon Freeman

  For Tamara,

  who survived the Holocaust and

  found a new life in Sweden

  CONTENTS

  MAP 1

  MAP 2

  Monday, March 28, 2016

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  Tuesday

  CHAPTER 4

  Bosnia, February 1992

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  Bosnia, March 1992

  Wednesday

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  Thursday

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  Friday

  CHAPTER 15

  Bosnia, April 1992

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  Bosnia, June 1992

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  Saturday

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  Bosnia, September 1992

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  Bosnia, December 1992

  CHAPTER 35

  Sunday

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  Bosnia, January 1993

  Monday

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  Bosnia, February 1993

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  CHAPTER 47

  CHAPTER 48

  CHAPTER 49

  Bosnia, March 1993

  CHAPTER 50

  CHAPTER 51

  CHAPTER 52

  Tuesday

  CHAPTER 53

  CHAPTER 54

  CHAPTER 55

  CHAPTER 56

  Bosnia, March 1993

  CHAPTER 57

  CHAPTER 58

  CHAPTER 59

  CHAPTER 60

  CHAPTER 61

  CHAPTER 62

  CHAPTER 63

  CHAPTER 64

  Bosnia, April 1993

  CHAPTER 65

  CHAPTER 66

  CHAPTER 67

  CHAPTER 68

  CHAPTER 69

  CHAPTER 70

  CHAPTER 71

  CHAPTER 72

  CHAPTER 73

  Bosnia, April 1993

  CHAPTER 74

  CHAPTER 75

  CHAPTER 76

  CHAPTER 77

  CHAPTER 78

  Wednesday

  CHAPTER 79

  CHAPTER 80

  CHAPTER 81

  CHAPTER 82

  Bosnia, May 1993

  CHAPTER 83

  CHAPTER 84

  CHAPTER 85

  CHAPTER 86

  CHAPTER 87

  CHAPTER 88

  Bosnia, May 1993

  CHAPTER 89

  CHAPTER 90

  CHAPTER 91

  CHAPTER 92

  CHAPTER 93

  CHAPTER 94

  CHAPTER 95

  Bosnia, May 1993

  CHAPTER 96

  CHAPTER 97

  CHAPTER 98

  CHAPTER 99

  CHAPTER 100

  Thursday

  CHAPTER 101

  CHAPTER 102

  Bosnia, May 1993

  CHAPTER 103

  CHAPTER 104

  CHAPTER 105

  CHAPTER 106

  CHAPTER 107

  CHAPTER 108

  CHAPTER 109

  CHAPTER 110

  Bosnia, May 1993

  CHAPTER 111

  CHAPTER 112

  CHAPTER 113

  CHAPTER 114

  CHAPTER 115

  CHAPTER 116

  Bosnia, May 1993

  CHAPTER 117

  CHAPTER 118

  CHAPTER 119

  CHAPTER 120

  CHAPTER 121

  CHAPTER 122

  Friday

  CHAPTER 123

  CHAPTER 124

  Bosnia, May 1993

  CHAPTER 125

  CHAPTER 126

  CHAPTER 127

  CHAPTER 128

  CHAPTER 129

  CHAPTER 130

  CHAPTER 131

  CHAPTER 132

  Bosnia, May 1993

  CHAPTER 133

  CHAPTER 134

  Bosnia, May 1993

  Monday

  CHAPTER 135

  CHAPTER 136

  CHAPTER 137

  EPILOGUE

  SUPPORT FOR VULNERABLE WOMEN

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR

  Monday, March 28, 2016

  CHAPTER 1

  Mina Kovač scrutinized the draining board. It was spotless, but still she gave it another wipe just to be on the safe side. She’d mopped all the floors and vacuumed the whole house, using the little nozzle to make sure there wasn’t a single crumb left in a corner. The bathroom smelled of lemons.

  Her precious little boy had slept for an unusually long time, thank goodness, so she’d been able to get the cleaning done in peace. She glanced over at the window. Dino didn’t usually bring Andreis home before seven, but she couldn’t help checking.

  Dinner had to be ready when he opened the door. She’d done most of the preparation: two top-quality steaks with baked potatoes, Béarnaise sauce, and a green salad.

  His favorite meal.

  Recently Andreis had become more unpredictable than ever. She tried so hard not to irritate him; sometimes she didn’t even know why he got mad. She stayed in the background, determined to take up as little space as possible. When Lukas woke, she picked him up immediately so that his crying wouldn’t disturb Andreis.

  There were many late meetings and phone calls; he would take off with Dino in the middle of the night, giving no explanation.

&n
bsp; She didn’t dare ask what was going on.

  Mina went into the living room and bent over the old crib her father had brought down from the loft and freshened up. Lukas was lying on his back snoring contentedly, just as she must have done back in the day. His incomprehensibly small hands rested on the cover, fingers spread like starfish. His latest cuddly toy, a pale-blue rabbit from Grandma and Grandpa, lay beside him.

  She wished she had time to pick him up, press her lips against his downy head, settle down in the armchair and feed him. But it was better to let him sleep, then she could give the guest bathroom another wipe before Andreis arrived home.

  A sound from the front door made her jump. Was he back already? It was only six o’clock. She hurried into the hallway and opened the door. She let out a long breath when she saw her father on the porch.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I happened to be in the area. Can I come in?”

  Mina hesitated.

  “Is he home?”

  She didn’t need to explain, but she found the whole situation embarrassing. “He’ll be back in an hour,” she said, unable to meet her father’s gaze.

  “I just wanted to see Lukas; it’s been a while. I’ll only stay a few minutes; I’ll be gone before Andreis gets here.”

  Mina nodded. “Come in. Lukas is in the living room; he’s been asleep for hours, bless him.”

  Her father slipped past her. She really wanted to make him a cup of coffee, sit down, and chat for a while, but she knew it was a bad idea. There wasn’t enough time.

  “He’s such a sweetheart,” her father said when he came back. “He’s got your eyes and mouth. Do you think his hair will be as fair as yours?”

  Mina managed a faint smile. She also thought Lukas took after her, even though Andreis insisted he looked like his own father.

  “We’ll see,” she said. “Love to Mom.”

  She hoped it didn’t sound as if she were hurrying him along. Her father patted her cheek and opened the front door. Then he stopped. Turned around with a pleading look in his eyes.

  “Couldn’t you come and stay with us for a few weeks? I’m sure Andreis has a lot to think about right now. Wouldn’t it be more peaceful for you and Lukas?”

  Mina knew that her parents worried about her. Things had gotten worse; it was impossible to hide the bruises.

  “Mom and I . . . we think about you all the time.”

  They’d tried to get her to move in with them when Andreis was in jail, but she’d known he would have regarded it as a betrayal, and she would have paid the price when he came out. Her father’s persistence was making her uncomfortable. She couldn’t help looking over his shoulder at the street, but thank God it was still empty.

  “We’ll talk about it some other time,” she said.

  “Andreis is no good for you—you know that!” He raised his voice, but Mina didn’t have the strength to reassure him. All her energy went into protecting Lukas. And herself.

  “Please, Dad. Not now. I’ve got so much to do.”

  Her father rubbed his forehead. New lines had appeared on his face over the past few years; she had to remind herself that he was only fifty-five. His graying hair needed cutting.

  “Mom isn’t well,” he said reluctantly.

  Mina went cold all over. “What do you mean?”

  “There’s a problem with her heart.”

  “No, not Mom!”

  The words came out as a reflex. Mom had to be there. Always. Even if it was difficult, sometimes impossible to meet up, Mom was her last refuge. Mom and Dad were there for her, whatever happened.

  She could go home.

  “You probably haven’t noticed, but she gets kind of breathless. It’s gotten worse lately. She’s been given a priority referral to the Southern District Hospital; she has an appointment next week.”

  Mina wanted to cry. If only she could grab Lukas and go home to Skuru with her dad. There was nothing she’d rather do. But it was impossible—why didn’t he understand?

  “I’ll call her soon,” she promised, digging her nails into the palms of her hands to maintain her self-control.

  “Can’t you come over and see her? She’d be so pleased if you brought Lukas. How about tomorrow? Or Wednesday?”

  The hope in her father’s voice was just making things worse. She couldn’t let him see how stressed out she was. Lukas would wake up any minute, and before that she had to get the potatoes in the oven and marinate the steaks. She hadn’t even set the table yet.

  “I’ll try,” she said, even though she knew it wasn’t going to happen. “Bye, Dad. Drive safely. I really must get on now.” She kissed his cheek and closed the door.

  Lukas was whimpering quietly. Mina grabbed the detergent and a cloth and hurried toward the guest bathroom. With a bit of luck Lukas would go back to sleep for a little while so that she could finish her chores.

  CHAPTER 2

  Thomas poured meatballs into the frying pan. The “best before” date was the previous day, but he hadn’t had time to go shopping.

  The pan hissed and spat, and he suppressed a curse as hot oil caught his hand.

  He’d had a crap day at work. The reorganization of the police force just wouldn’t settle, causing one colleague after another to walk away. This afternoon he’d found out that Kalle Lidwall, one of the people he’d worked with the longest, had decided to leave the force in favor of a security firm. Their civilian assistant, Karin Ek, had also resigned when the investigative department in Nacka had been absorbed into the Serious Crimes Unit in Flemingsberg. She’d said she just couldn’t cope with the commute.

  Elin was sitting on the sofa watching TV, something with happy children jumping from a sunlit jetty into the water. Thomas tried to ignore the noise; he didn’t need reminding that this would be Elin’s first summer on the island of Harö without her mother.

  He opened the refrigerator and took out a can of low-alcohol beer. He needed to talk to Pernilla about the summer, how they were going to divide up the vacation and who would spend which weeks with Elin. He’d already sent several text messages with various suggestions, but she hadn’t come back to him with a concrete answer, just vague indications that she’d think about it.

  His cell phone rang; the display showed Pernilla’s number.

  “Hi, it’s me.”

  She sounded as if she had a cold. He knew her so well, and yet he didn’t know her at all. He still didn’t understand how they’d ended up in this situation.

  “I just wanted to say good-night to Elin,” she said. There was a brief pause. It was Pernilla’s turn to have Elin tomorrow; they usually swapped over on Mondays, but Thomas and Elin had been away for the Easter weekend. “I have to call your cell since she doesn’t have one of her own,” she added.

  Thomas suppressed a weary sigh. Yet another point on which they couldn’t agree. Pernilla wanted to give Elin a phone, but Thomas thought an eight-year-old was way too young. Pernilla argued that it was impractical for her to be unable to contact her daughter directly, but as far as Thomas was concerned that was just an excuse, a strategy to avoid admitting that she was often held up at the office. If Pernilla made an effort to get home on time, then their daughter wouldn’t need a phone. Simple.

  “What are we doing with Elin over the summer?” he asked, more brusquely than he’d intended.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I need to schedule my vacation—didn’t you get my text messages?”

  “Do we have to talk about this now?”

  “Human resources has already reminded me more than once. I need to give them an answer.”

  “Thomas, I don’t know what I’m doing yet.” She broke off and coughed, then blew her nose. “It’s hard to make plans right now—there’s a lot going on.”

  It was like pressing a button. Thomas couldn’t stop himself. “It’s always hard for you to make plans, Pernilla. But I also have a job that needs forward planning.”

  “I don’t wa
nt to argue, but I won’t be able to tell you definitely until the middle of May. We have a major product launch in September. I can’t make predictions at the moment.”

  Thomas squeezed the beer can so hard it buckled. Elin looked over at him, and Thomas forced a reassuring smile.

  “Can’t you show some understanding for once?” Pernilla continued, as if he were the one being unreasonable.

  The angry silence grew, until Thomas had had enough. He made a huge effort to keep his tone neutral. “OK, so this is what we’re going to do. I’ll book my vacation beginning July 1, so that Elin can make the most of the summer here on Harö. At least she’ll be able to spend time with her grandparents.”

  The message was crystal clear: Even if her mother’s not around.

  “You can’t do that.”

  Pernilla sounded upset, but he didn’t care. He’d tried to find the best solution, but he couldn’t be responsible for her disorganized life. Sometimes you just had to make a decision. “You give me no other option,” he said.

  “You don’t get to dictate what happens!”

  “I’ve been trying to negotiate with you for over a month. What else am I supposed to do?”

  “For fuck’s sake, Thomas—you’re behaving like a child!”

  He couldn’t talk to her anymore without saying something that he couldn’t take back. He went over to the sofa; Elin was laughing at an animated figure doing dumb stuff for the hundredth time.

  “I’ll pass you over to Elin,” he said. “It’s Mom, sweetheart—she wants to say good-night.”

  Elin took the phone, keeping her eyes fixed on the screen as she spoke to her mother. She didn’t appear to have noticed the bad atmosphere or the heated discussion between her parents.

  At least he hoped she hadn’t, even though he still felt guilty. He didn’t want Elin to hear them quarreling.

  He went back into the kitchen, poured the beer into a glass, and put the buckled can in the recycling bin. He was so tired of the constant sniping. Every conversation ended the same way.

  The only form of communication that seemed to work these days was text messaging. They usually managed to agree when they exchanged short sentences, but as soon as they attempted to speak on the phone, it all went wrong.

  He’d been too hard on her, he knew that, but did she have to snap right back at him every time? Why did this keep on happening?

  He poured the pan of pasta into the colander with such force that boiling water splashed onto his foot.

  “Shit!”

  This time he couldn’t help himself.

  CHAPTER 3