“Police!”
He threw himself at me.
It all happened so fast—the room spun and shards of glass flew about us like a sudden snowfall. In the next instant I was on the floor with my cheek against the wood and could no longer breathe. It felt like I’d been run over by a car—my back had to be broken—and pain stabbed between my ribs like knives.
“Adam Sandell?” the policeman said in a booming voice.
All I could produce was a whimper.
“Adam Sandell?” he said again and again until I finally managed to confirm that it was my name.
Not until I was yanked up off the floor did I realize that there were two of them. The other officer was standing next to Linda, looking at me with disdain as he took out his handcuffs.
“Do you have any weapons on you?” he asked.
“Weapons? Are you nuts?”
“No sharp objects?”
I was frisked and advised that I would be coming along to the station for questioning. When I asked if I was under suspicion of anything, I was met only with vague excuses. I had to wait until we arrived at the station.
My pleas to loosen the handcuffs were met with silence. The car pulled up behind the police station and I was led across the parking lot like a criminal, flanked by the oversize officers.
41
I had to wait for half an hour before Agnes Thelin entered the small interrogation room. She placed my keys and wallet on the table.
“We’re going to keep your phone for forensic analysis,” she said, waving an order from the prosecutor.
“Forensic analysis? What crime have I been charged with?”
Agnes Thelin put on an expression of concern, as if she truly cared about me.
“Linda Lokind contacted us back when you came to her apartment for the first time, Adam. She was scared. You ingratiated yourself with her under false pretenses.”
“I only happened to be wearing my clerical collar that day.”
“You claimed to represent Margaretha Olsen.”
I couldn’t deny that, although I thought it was a fairly minor overstep. Definitely not the sort of thing that justified the brutality of those officers.
“We decided that Linda should contact us immediately in case of your return,” Agnes Thelin continued.
So that’s why it had taken her so long to unlock the door.
“But why am I sitting here? Why did they apprehend me? I haven’t broken any laws.”
“You swung a vase at my colleague.”
“Swung? Is that what he claims?”
“He doesn’t claim anything. There were four of you in that room.”
“But you have to question Linda Lokind again. She confessed to me that all her accusations against Christopher Olsen were true. He assaulted her again and again, and she thought about ways to get revenge.”
“I can’t discuss details of this investigation, Adam. You have to trust we’re doing our job.”
“How could I trust you? My little girl is locked up despite the complete lack of evidence!”
“We just received new results from the lab. The crime-scene technicians have discovered small irregularities on the soles of Stella’s shoes, and they match the print from the scene of the crime. We are sure that print came from Stella’s shoe.”
“That can’t be true.”
“Of course it’s true.”
“But it could have ended up there any time at all. Stella has an alibi!”
Agnes Thelin made her hands into a pyramid under her chin. Her eyes were a little shiny, but her gaze was steady and firm. I realized that I wasn’t going to get anywhere. She had made up her mind. She and Jansdotter the prosecutor had decided that Stella was guilty and that I was a common liar. Nothing I said would change their attitude.
“How are you doing, Adam? You’ve been overstepping a lot of boundaries recently.”
I pressed my hands to my temples to get rid of the constant pounding.
“DA Jenny Jansdotter has filed a police report on you,” Thelin went on, taking a piece of paper from the pile on her desk. “You attacked her on the street, shouting and acting threatening.”
“Attacked? Threatening?”
My vision flickered. I fumbled around on the table for something to drink. My mouth was full of dust. The light was so bright I had to squint.
“Adam?”
“I want a lawyer.”
* * *
Contrary to my expectations, it actually felt like a relief when Michael Blomberg lumbered through the door and sat down next to me.
“Trust me,” he said, placing one huge paw on my shoulder.