looked at them. Pale, with a red nose.
“I don’t know that there’s much I can say.”
“We want to hear about your relationship with Helena,” said Johan. “How well did you know her?”
“She was my best friend, although we haven’t spent much time together over the past few years,” she said in her soft Gotland accent. “We went through all the school years together, and we’ve known each other since kindergarten. After the ninth grade we ended up in different classrooms, but that didn’t stop us from spending just as much time with each other as before. During that period we lived in the same row-house neighborhood in Visby, on Rutegatan near the Ericsson company. Or rather, Flextronics nowadays.”
“Did you still spend time together when you got older?”
“Helena’s family moved to Stockholm about a year after high school. That was the summer she turned twenty, by the way. I remember because she had a big party here on Gotland for her twentieth birthday. They moved to Danderyd. But we still kept in touch and called each other several times a week, and I used to go to Stockholm to visit her. She always came back here in the summer. They still had their summer house near Gustavs.”
“What was Helena like as a person?”
“She was almost always happy. Lively, you might say. Extremely extroverted. It was always easy for her to meet new people. She was an optimist. She saw the bright side of everything.”
Emma stood up hastily and left the room. She came back at once with a glass of water and a roll of paper towels.
“What about Helena’s boyfriend?” asked Johan.
“Per? He’s really great. Sweet, considerate, and he adored Helena. I’m positive that he’s not guilty.”
“How long have they been together?”
Emma took a gulp of water. She’s amazing , thought Johan.
“It must be almost six years now, because they started seeing each other the same summer that I got married.”
“So things were good between them?” Johan went on, at the same time that he felt a touch of disappointment when she mentioned her marriage. Of course she was married. Big house and a sandbox and little tricycles in the yard. You idiot , he told himself. Stop thinking about her as your next conquest!
“Yes, I think so. Of course, now and then she would get tired of him, and she’d wonder whether she was really in love. I guess most people feel that way after they’ve lived together for a long time. But I think she had made up her mind that he was the one. I know that several times she said that if she ever had children, it would be with Per. He made her feel secure.”
“Could we ask you a few questions in front of the camera? We’ll only use the parts that you think are okay.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”
“How about if we give it a try? If you think it’s too uncomfortable, then we can stop.”
“All right.”
Peter brought in his camera. He didn’t bother with a tripod or extra lighting. The situation was touchy enough as it was. Johan moved over to sit on the sofa next to Emma. He could smell the scent of her newly washed hair.
The interview went well. Emma talked about Helena and their friendship, about her own fear and about how her life had been shaken as a consequence of the murder.
“Let me give you my card in case you happen to think of anything else you want to say, or if you just want to call me about something,” said Johan before they left.
“Thank you.”
She put his card on a chest of drawers without looking at it.
When they reached the stretch of gravel outside the house, Johan took a deep breath.
“What a woman,” he groaned, and turned around to look at Peter, who was walking right behind him with the camera on his shoulder.
“The prettiest one I’ve seen in a long time,” his colleague agreed. “What a charming accent. And those eyes. And what a body. I’m a goner.”
“You, too? Too bad she’s married and has
“I don’t know that there’s much I can say.”
“We want to hear about your relationship with Helena,” said Johan. “How well did you know her?”
“She was my best friend, although we haven’t spent much time together over the past few years,” she said in her soft Gotland accent. “We went through all the school years together, and we’ve known each other since kindergarten. After the ninth grade we ended up in different classrooms, but that didn’t stop us from spending just as much time with each other as before. During that period we lived in the same row-house neighborhood in Visby, on Rutegatan near the Ericsson company. Or rather, Flextronics nowadays.”
“Did you still spend time together when you got older?”
“Helena’s family moved to Stockholm about a year after high school. That was the summer she turned twenty, by the way. I remember because she had a big party here on Gotland for her twentieth birthday. They moved to Danderyd. But we still kept in touch and called each other several times a week, and I used to go to Stockholm to visit her. She always came back here in the summer. They still had their summer house near Gustavs.”
“What was Helena like as a person?”
“She was almost always happy. Lively, you might say. Extremely extroverted. It was always easy for her to meet new people. She was an optimist. She saw the bright side of everything.”
Emma stood up hastily and left the room. She came back at once with a glass of water and a roll of paper towels.
“What about Helena’s boyfriend?” asked Johan.
“Per? He’s really great. Sweet, considerate, and he adored Helena. I’m positive that he’s not guilty.”
“How long have they been together?”
Emma took a gulp of water. She’s amazing , thought Johan.
“It must be almost six years now, because they started seeing each other the same summer that I got married.”
“So things were good between them?” Johan went on, at the same time that he felt a touch of disappointment when she mentioned her marriage. Of course she was married. Big house and a sandbox and little tricycles in the yard. You idiot , he told himself. Stop thinking about her as your next conquest!
“Yes, I think so. Of course, now and then she would get tired of him, and she’d wonder whether she was really in love. I guess most people feel that way after they’ve lived together for a long time. But I think she had made up her mind that he was the one. I know that several times she said that if she ever had children, it would be with Per. He made her feel secure.”
“Could we ask you a few questions in front of the camera? We’ll only use the parts that you think are okay.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”
“How about if we give it a try? If you think it’s too uncomfortable, then we can stop.”
“All right.”
Peter brought in his camera. He didn’t bother with a tripod or extra lighting. The situation was touchy enough as it was. Johan moved over to sit on the sofa next to Emma. He could smell the scent of her newly washed hair.
The interview went well. Emma talked about Helena and their friendship, about her own fear and about how her life had been shaken as a consequence of the murder.
“Let me give you my card in case you happen to think of anything else you want to say, or if you just want to call me about something,” said Johan before they left.
“Thank you.”
She put his card on a chest of drawers without looking at it.
When they reached the stretch of gravel outside the house, Johan took a deep breath.
“What a woman,” he groaned, and turned around to look at Peter, who was walking right behind him with the camera on his shoulder.
“The prettiest one I’ve seen in a long time,” his colleague agreed. “What a charming accent. And those eyes. And what a body. I’m a goner.”
“You, too? Too bad she’s married and has
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