I hold his hand. No, I squeeze it, embrace it, cling to it.
I have to tell him.
108
For a long time I feared that Adam would give away the whole thing. He would never allow me to carry out my plan if he knew what was going on. It was uncharacteristic enough that he had likely hidden the bloody blouse and then lied to the police about what time it was when Stella had returned home. I couldn’t let him find out any further details.
He had begun to suspect Amina that very Saturday. After our lunch at her parents’， he hinted that Amina had been lying about spending Friday night with Stella. I’d been forced to put up several smoke screens.
When we returned home from the police station late Saturday night, I lingered out on the street to speak with Michael, who had given us a ride home. He believed that Stella would soon be released, but I had read the messages on her phone and feared that the situation was quite a bit more complicated than we knew. As we waited for further information, I tried to insinuate to Adam that Stella was in need of an alibi. I couldn’t say too much; he must under no circumstances suspect that I knew more than I was letting on, but I hinted that he was the only one who could exonerate Stella by claiming that she had come home earlier than she actually had done. Of course, I could have lied to the police myself to give Stella an alibi. But the statement would hold much more weight if Adam did it. Who dares to question the honesty of a pastor who has spent his entire life campaigning for the truth?
Furthermore, I strongly preferred not to testify. It wouldn’t be particularly exceptional for me to lie under oath considering everything else I had done; my professional honor no longer exists anyhow. At the same time, it was important for me to follow the entire trial as an onlooker. I wanted to see it all. I suppose it has to do with feeling in control.
It was impossible for me to sleep on that Saturday night; the thoughts tore through my mind like galloping horses, but after a few hours I discovered that Adam was sinking deeper and deeper into his chair. He blinked several times, his head drooping to his shoulder, and I sat perfectly still without making a sound until deep snores came rattling from his throat.
Then I quickly tiptoed up to my office and called Amina. She was agitated and almost incoherent. We decided to meet as soon as we had the opportunity, but that very night she had to call Adam and confess that she had lied. She must not continue to claim she had been with Stella on Friday night.
Adam, however, was not so easily mollified. He has always been good at uncovering lies, and he could tell that Amina was hiding something. In fact, there are only two people who know how to lie to Adam. One is Stella; the other is me.
On the Thursday after the murder, Amina called me again. Thus far everything seemed to be going as we’d hoped, but suddenly Amina was frantic and out of breath on the line. Adam had been waiting for her outside the arena, trying to squeeze her for information. She was sure he knew. Somehow, Adam had figured out that Stella and Amina were involved in Christopher Olsen’s death.
I had never intended to reveal to Adam that I, too, was awake when Stella arrived home that night, but as his behavior became increasingly desperate I realized something had to be done. This was also the point at which I had the idea of moving to Stockholm.
I love Adam. Our relationship has sometimes been shaky, to say the least; it has crashed and burned, but they say that broken vases last the longest. Two people who have gone through everything we have together, who have come through an ordeal like ours in one piece, belong together in a way that is hard for others to comprehend.
In Stockholm we would be able to build something new from the ground up. At the same time, the preliminary investigation was dragging on, and I had to find a way to get Adam out of Lund before disaster struck. Although in the end I was forced to confess to him that I was the one who made sure Stella’s phone disappeared, and although he must have realized I was the one who had taken care of the stained blouse, I succeeded in getting Adam to follow through with his lie and give Stella an alibi.
* * *
The moment I discovered that Stella had left her phone at home, I realized that something was wrong. Stella never forgets her phone. With each passing minute, my worry grew. In the end I saw no other way out than to read through her texts.
I read Stella’s last, desperate message to Amina in horror. For a fleeting minute I considered showing Adam, but I quickly realized that would be disastrous.
I was sitting on the sofa, my eyes glued to Stella’s phone, when Michael called.
“I’m so sorry, Ulrika, but the police have Stella in custody.”